Tao at the Venetian

Las Vegas - OK it's Monday night, slow for some, but not quite for us. The trade show must be happening, new deals for the new year are being hatched and alliances are revived, and in a way, how else to do it but with a good, old meet up for a chug and a grub. Quite brusque, one may say, so I say it again, an evening at Tao, at the Venetian. This is not too bad for a Monday evening, coming to Tao for dinner. I lounged on the pool side at our hotel the entire day, trying to catch up on my homework. Trust me, I do my homework while on vacation. Psychopharmacology text is leisure reading, when required, over a glass of icy mojito. Did I retain anything? I thought so, judging by the scores from the previous weekend's reports. OK back to the Tao.


It is not so hard to find the Tao once you ascend the escalators of the Venetian from the Casino level. I guess they call it the Canal level where the floor was situated. It is left of the main doors leading from the piazza. As you enter Tao, you traipse across a series of water-filled stone tubs awash with rose petals and candle lights. The bar counter is on the main floor. Meeting associates for dinner (who by the way changed changed plans and insisted on 7:00 pm, eschewing the 7:30 dinner they proposed). I was the least perturbed by all these changes. It was TLO's call to make sense of it, which he did with so much grace by the way.


Ascending the stairs to the second level dining area, you are greeted by the sight of a rather large and contrived Buddha lording over the place. Excess appears to be the discreet word here. The music was loud, the waiters brash and the lighting garish in some places and dark where it matters. It was true to its identity, a club that serves food! I cannot, for the life of me, run out and decided to just chill and enjoy it. I sat with a person I am so fond of, Ms. D. It's been a couple of years since I last saw her and was excited to catch up with her.

The waiter soon arrived and announced the menu with a grand flourish, like a car salesmen at Nissan by the freeway. I was thinking out loud: do not talk about Asian food to a chino on your table, or you are in deep shit! Orders taken, servers away, we waited. The food arrived. I could not recall the exact items but I remembered a satay, some buns and dumplings, vegetable rolls and such. A white man's idea of Chinese food,. Hey, wait up! I am not being racist or discriminatory here, but the people behind Tao does not seem to have a slightest clue about good or at least passsable Asian food. A cod alone does not make Asian cuisine, period. The rest of the dishes were a blur. Then came dessert.

The dessert was meant to be shared among the people of the table. It was a huge fortune cookie- like contraption. From my vantage, it was a gross representation with a rather scandalous outgrowth, not necessarily typical culinary qualities! Worst of all, you had to pull out these pieces of paper as if you need your fortunes coming out of an orifice made of sweet dough! I felt like running but something told me it may be a divine experience for some, so I stayed, attempted to remain polite, blinking to assuage my little mind that this will be a blip in my week. Sorry I could not bear to take a picture of the lovely giant fortune cookie.

Tao was wonderful, but in a way, was also a bust. I do not care if it is the highest grossing restaurant in the Unite States, in terms of sales volume. I prefer my dinners to remain just that, a culinary experience, shorn of the car sales talk , bad lighting (although on the second thought, the crowd on the next table were a bit gorgeous in the dim light!).

photo credit: www.eaw.com/frontrow/2006/04/post.html retrieved, 7/24/07.

photo credit: http://z.about.com/d/govegas/1/7/r/P/grandcanalshop0027.JPG. retrieved 7/24/07.