You’re welcome, Asian tour groups.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\nOne of the best selling points of Redneck Riviera is it doesn’t seem to take itself too seriously.<\/p>\n
The vibe is casual and often rowdy, the staff is friendly, and Redneck Riviera serves a niche clientele likely to stray from Toby Keith’s restaurant at Harrah’s and Gilley’s at Treasure Island to give this new honky-tonk hangout a try.<\/p>\n
Next, we move to Born and Raised.<\/p>\n
Born and Raised is an offshoot of an existing, locally-owned bar and pub. Named Born and Raised. Please try and keep up.<\/p>\nSt. Paddy’s Day seemed a good day to visit, hoochwise.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\nBorn and Raised at Grand Bazaar Shops is technically named “Born and Raised CRAFT PUB.” Seriously. The “craft pub” is capitalized in all the media and marketing materials.<\/p>\n
It’s as if Born and Raised suddenly contracted Tourette Syndrome.<\/p>\n
Born and Raised has a tiny footprint, even by Grand Bazaar Shops standards. The bar has seating for about 14 people inside, with another 12 seats just outside.<\/p>\nBorn and Raised is so small you could fit it in your pocket. But don’t. That’s shoplifting.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\nWhile other Born and Raised locations in Las Vegas serve food, the Grand Bazaar Shops outpost does not. Which is probably for the best, as we recently had our first encounter with Born and Raised’s food, and it fell firmly into the “Meh” category.<\/p>\n
Yes, “Meh” is a category. Other categories include “Mind-Blowing” (Pizza Rock, downtown), “Forgettable” (Beerhaus at The Park), “Regrettable” (The Still at Mirage) and “It’ll Do in a Pinch, Especially If We’re Wasted” (everywhere else on The Strip).<\/p>\nWe look forward to getting to know each and every Born and Raised cocktail personally.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\nBorn and Raised offers a menu of signature cocktails, each runs $13. There is also beer, although we have never personally had a beer, so we aren’t able to comment upon the breadth or quality of the selection.<\/p>\n
Finally, we get all up inside Giordano’s.<\/p>\n
Giordano’s is a name that may sound familiar. The chain is known for its Chicago-style stuffed deep dish pizza.<\/p>\nGiordano’s sits astride a Starbucks that once announced it would serve liquor. Never happened, to our chagrin, whatever a “chagrin” might actually be.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\nGiordano’s has gone malls deep into Grand Bazaar Shops, with what amounts to three locations. There’s the second floor main restaurant, another dining area and bar on the ground level (fancifully called the Grand Allee walkway), and there’s also a walk-up window.<\/p>\nThe Giordano surname has its roots in “Yarden,” the Hebrew name of the Jordan river. Yes, we have exhausted our supply of photo captions.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\nWe’re not going to sugarcoat it, Giordano’s is disappointing on any number of levels.<\/p>\n
First, the wait time if you order pizza is agonizing. It took nearly an hour to get our simple cheese pizza, and the restaurant was pretty much empty.<\/p>\n
During our wait, staff was sweeping up and mopping, one of our biggest pet peeves in any restaurant. (We were there two hours before closing time, but it was obvious employees were champing at the bit to close up shop.) Adding to the unpleasantness of our visit, staff members were moving chairs around the dining room not by lifting them, but by dragging them, lending the restaurant roughly the same welcoming ambiance as a smoke detector testing facility.<\/p>\nWe predict only one of the Giordano’s spaces will survive. It’s anybody’s guess which.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\nIt was only after our pizza arrived that the WTF began in earnest.<\/p>\n
Stuffed pizza isn’t actually pizza, it turns out. It’s 14 pounds of melted cheese ladled onto a flaky, flavorless crust. A layer of sauce sits on the cheese, clearly embarrassed to be part of such a bastardization of the world’s greatest food.<\/p>\nFun fact: The word “no” is the same in English and Italian. Apply liberally at Giordano’s.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\nWe’d love to say we’ll be back to try the thin crust pizza at Giordano’s, but why would we when there are so many other, far-more-worthy pizza offerings in the neighborhood? We’d hit Pin-Up Pizza<\/a> at Planet Hollywood, Martorano’s at Paris or The Pizzeria (also known as “Secret Pizza”) at Cosmopolitan 100 times before doing Giordano’s again.<\/p>\nSorry, but pizza is serious business, and what they serve at Giordano’s barely qualifies. It’s more like fondue, although that’s probably doing a disservice to fondue.<\/p>\n
Here’s a better look at the Giordano’s menu<\/a>, and here’s the pizza menu<\/a>, because you wisely don’t blindly trust the opinion of blogs when it comes to pies.<\/p>\nIf you love Giordano’s, we love hearing differing viewpoints. Or at least pretend to.<\/p>\nWhen it doubt, margarita.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\nIt’s great to see Grand Bazaar Shops bringing in new talent. The mall seems to churn through tenants (mall management would owe harsh penalties to Caesars Entertainment, owners of Bally’s, if Grand Bazaar Shops falls below a certain percentage of occupancy), but a few successful bars and restaurants could give some of the millions of people who walk by each year a reason to stop.<\/p>\n
It was recently announced<\/a> Philly Pretzel Factory is coming to Grand Bazaar Shops later in the year. We’re struggling to contain our excitement.<\/p>\nOur friends at Eater Vegas<\/a> say another restaurant will open across from Giordano’s patio bar, Blue Ribbon Fried Chicken. We’ve tried it, and we’re filing that one in the “Forgettable” category, too.<\/p>\nHey, not everything’s going to stick. Only time will tell which venues will thrive or expire. In Vegas, change is always on the menu.<\/p>\n