Here we are, back where it all started, Viva Las Vegas. Having
arrived and gotten settled we started right off the bat and
strolling through the Mirage found B.B. King’s Blues Club. It’s not
that often you see Southern food in Vegas, so we thought we would
give it a shot. Plus there is a live band doing some blues/soul
classics, how could you go wrong. While the band was warming up we
perused the menu and ordered the Catfish bites appetizer. Honestly,
I wasn’t expecting all that much as most joints connected to a
famous name often don’t deliver on the plate. The basket of catfish
nuggets upped the ante though. Moist and covered with a thin and
flavorful breading the nuggets alone were really good. The dip added
another radishy layer of flavor that upped expectations. I was so
excited I ordered a house shot called Boogie Woogie and about
then the Memphis All Stars Kicked in, belting out some soulful
accompaniment. |
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As the horn section backed up a Blues Boy hit
we started to notice the décor. The walls are littered with blues
memorabilia from Eric Clapton to Booker T. and the MGs. Each table
top was painted with an album cover from artists I knew and some I
had never heard of. We were sitting at the table of Guitar Slim’s
album, The Things That I Used To Do, you can see the picture.
Our server appeared disinterested in the evening’s events and
apparently had something else on his mind.
For entrees we purposefully chose two of the
identified King’s personal dishes, the pulled pork platter and the
chicken fried chicken. There is a reason B. B. looks the way he does
and is doing commercials for blood sugar meters. The pulled pork was
nice, tender and had a nice smoke ring. There appeared to be little
flavoring on the meat and the sauce was understated even though it
appeared dark and rich. Over all it was simple straight forward Q.
The slaw was passable but the baked beans were a complete throwaway,
I would definitely have done something different. The chicken was another story. Again a thin and tasty breading encircled very well prepared meat full of juices and flavor. The chicken was resting atop a white cheddar mac and cheese which was the greatest disappointment of the night. The pasta was disastrously overcooked and was about 30 of boil away from porridge. I can’t really recall the sauce; I was so distracted by the pasta…really too bad, considering how good the chicken was. |
The Real Highlight, Catfish Bites |
Workable Pulled Pork Platter |
Great Chicken Fried Chicken, Tragic Pasta |
At this point the band had won over the room, which was no small feat. Waiting for a cab at the airport I had begun to wonder if we had accidentally flown to Houston as we were surrounded by many shiny belt buckles and Stetsons. The rodeo is in town, Houston has come to us. It wasn’t much difference in the Blues Club as the boots and vests inhabited nearly half the tables. You might think the two wouldn’t go well together but the band could play and the cowboys were certainly interested in a good time and hit the dance floor in appreciation of the tunes. We would have joined them but we still had “work” to do. In a last gasp we tried the signature dessert, the banana bread pudding. Rich, custardy bread with slices of banana was soaked in a rum flavored sauce and made for a serious but not over sweet close to some southern comfort. Nice place, great music, blasé service and better than expected dining, that might sum up the Blues King’s club. |
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Ratings | |||||||
Food |
Service |
Ambiance |
What's Best |
What's Worst |
Overall |
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B- | C- | A | A | F | B- | ||
Catfish Nugglets | Pointless Pasta |