Have you ever intentionally gone to a restaurant that you were almost sure you were gonna hate… just to see if you were right? This is what I was thinking when I went to the expensive, the extravagant, the pretentious, Hakassan! Naturally I made this dubious decision while in Las Vegas, and I figured that since an evening of room service would probably cost me about as much we went to Hakassan instead.

It’s new at the MGM. I’d be able to try something new and walk off the stupor of two yards of Mai Tai. This is a new restaurant built inside a mini mall teeming with over-hyped DJ’s and dance floors. Didn’t bother me; after all, I’m a diner not a dancer, and I’m not sure I’ve ever actually busted a move. The thumping background noise of a thousand drunk boogie-ers was actually quite soothing as were led through a multi-million dollar wooden tetris, pretty much guaranteeing that I’d never find the bathroom.

There are saffron martinis here folks, I kid you not. One of my favorite things made into one of my favorite things. I was torn by the desire to point out what the chef did wrong with this overreaching restaurant and my desire to consume tasty things…  Woe was me… Other drinks came topped with passion fruit pulp and lovely bits of citrus zest.

The menu, as it turned out, shocked me way before it ever had the chance to disappoint me: the first thing I saw was a $200 appetizer. I think I slammed my menu closed twice, contemplating running away. Of course my foodie bone got the better of me. Wanting to hate the man behind the menu, I couldn’t help feeling all warm and fuzzy toward such dishes as sesame prawn with foie gras (he had me at foie gras), and stir fry lotus root with royal trumpet. Ooo, never had that before… The meats did look inviting; there were too many to choose from, it took a good half hour to decide – which actually worked out nicely because it took the waitress a good half hour to get to us.  Silver cod with champagne and Chinese honey, stir fry lobster with sweet & spicy sauce. All too tasty. I wanted to try them all. The waitress informed us that would indeed be possible, since all the entrees were very small. She actually said that. I could bankrupt myself through the whole delectable menu. Nuts! They had discovered my Achilles heel!

Always my rock of reason, my husband and saner half kept me rational throughout the decision making process. We were informed by the waitress that, being an unconventional kind of place, we would be getting the entrees whenever they happen to be ready, because that’s the way the chef wanted it. Meaning that the appetizer you ordered may come out as dessert, your soup may be your entrée or you may pay and leave before you ever get anything.

Taking that chance, we reasonably ordered the Hakassan duck salad – so sublime in its layers and table tossed lightness that I thought I was drunk. We had the crispy duck with kumquats and mustard sauce, from which I think I ate all the wonderful crispy fatty skin without having the mind to share, scallops in Chinese chive and rice wine sauce. I actually became too full to think about dessert! I think that’s a first for me…

I didn’t get a chance to try the silkie chicken soup – you know, the medicinal Chinese soup made with the cool black boned black meated chickens?  With roots and ginger and wolfberries and the whole shebang? Well, it was $40 first of all, and secondly, it’s meant to be medicinal and purifying for the chi and spirit and I figured all that goodness would be entirely wasted on me during a trip to Las Vegas, am I right?  And what’s that soup even doing in Las Vegas anyway? Such a pure and angelic soup of pure heart and beauty should be in a mountain retreat in Bali, not smack in the middle of Sin City.

Perhaps the well-wishing chef, Ho Chee Boon, clearly a purest, failed to appreciate his audience of beer-blooded American high rollers and lucky losers, dappled with the occasional sake snob. I can see the man clearly in my mind, sitting on a cool mountain top, wearing his chef coat, willing food into creation using the four winds and a broad leaf as a plate. For that is where he belongs. His angelic foods are entirely wasted on mere mortals. If I were you, I’d get in there before he gets called back home to the clouds.