Photo credit: vegas.eater.com
While enjoying a meal at the Tavern inside the Fontainebleau, I confessed to a colleague that I hadn’t visited any buffets on the Las Vegas Strip since the Aladdin closed in 1997. Given my role as a food writer and my long-term residency in Las Vegas, that lack of experience was striking. My justification, however, lies in the overwhelming culinary landscape of the city. With a plethora of unique dining options and a flair for grandiosity, it’s challenging to sample everything the city has to offer. Las Vegas bursts with extravagant dining experiences — from flame-grilled steaks delivered in briefcases to delicate dishes like sweet potato medallions topped with crème fraîche and caviar.
If I crave high-quality seafood or a perfectly cooked prime rib, the city has restaurants specializing in those very delights. Nevertheless, my dining companion expressed astonishment at my ignorance of Las Vegas’s buffet culture, which initially attracted diners as a strategy to bring in gamblers. Before the pandemic, the Las Vegas Valley boasted over 70 casino buffets, yet only 13 have survived since.
Post-2020, the landscape of buffets had evolved significantly. Dining at buffets in Las Vegas has grown increasingly pricey, with some off-Strip establishments charging as much as $75 for weekday entry. Buffets morphed from being mere convenience options to unique culinary attractions. Before the pandemic, for instance, Caesars Entertainment featured buffet passes, allowing access to multiple locations for one price—offering an experience that resembled a theme park visit. The exclusive Sterling Brunch at Bally’s was known for its upscale atmosphere, charging over $100 for a meal. Additionally, the character of Las Vegas’s casinos has changed: The gaudy themes and cartoonish mascots of the past have largely vanished. The Aladdin has transformed into the sleek Planet Hollywood, and the original pirate show at Treasure Island is a thing of the past. Even the iconic Mirage volcano is set for demolition, making way for a new 700-foot guitar-shaped tower.
“Perhaps I should dedicate a week to sampling all the buffets,” I mused, half to appease my colleague and half because it felt like the right choice. This marked the inception of Eater Vegas’s buffet bonanza week: Over the next eight days, I would confine my dining to various Las Vegas buffets, accompanied by friends and perhaps the Egyptian god Anubis (more on that later).
What began as a seemingly straightforward way to explore the essence of Las Vegas’s notorious penchant for excess quickly became an enlightening expedition through what has become an 80-year-old tradition. My journey would take me past arrays of pre-scored crab legs perched on ice, suspiciously labeled “Asian cuisine” beneath glaring heat lamps, and meticulously arranged plates at the endless salad bar. Each plate I filled deepened my understanding of how Las Vegas buffets evolved from cheap entertainment to a defining aspect of the city.
Day One
I kicked off my buffet tour at Bacchanal in Caesars Palace, renowned as a premier buffet in Las Vegas, alongside the Buffet at Wynn, both known for exceptional food and exorbitant prices (dinners surpassing $100). On a busy Tuesday evening, I joined a crowd of about 1,400 diners at Bacchanal. Featuring nine open kitchens and seating for approximately 600, this expansive buffet serves an impressive 250 dishes, with seafood options being the highlight showcased in a glass display right at the entrance.
Bacchanal is a modern incarnation of the original Vegas buffet concept, which began with the Chuck Wagon at the El Rancho in 1946, where travelers could dine for just $1. My mission at Bacchanal, which opened in 2012, was to maximize my investment of $184.22 (including tax and tip) for both myself and my dining companion. To achieve that goal, I consulted Bacchanal’s executive chef Julio Castillo, who directed me straight to the seafood and carvery, emphasizing the buffet’s more expensive items—filet mignon and prime rib.
Following the chef’s advice, my first round consisted of a hearty portion of seafood, featuring icy Dungeness crab, warm snow crab legs, red lobster claws, and plump prawns. Each bite of this seafood medley was an indulgent delight. During my subsequent rounds, I sought out salmon nigiri, made-to-order short rib risotto, and creamy macaroni and cheese—an astonishing rendition that set a benchmark for all others.
Feeling overwhelmed by the culinary spoils, I finally headed to the dessert section. Navigating past a fallen plate, I gleefully selected a mochi doughnut, a cinnamon roll, and various mousses in pastel colors. I left Bacchanal satisfied with my seafood haul, feeling slightly daunted by the week of continued indulgence that lay ahead.
Day Two
Reflecting on a memorable brunch at the Buffet at Bellagio a decade earlier, my colleague and I set off to experience it for ourselves. The Bellagio buffet, which started serving all-you-can-eat meals in 1998, feels stuck in time, with dim lighting and an ambiance reminiscent of a basic cafeteria rather than an upscale buffet.
Equipped with signage confirming “coffee not available” at the beverage station, my enthusiasm waned even further as I examined the spread. Nevertheless, I maintained a positive outlook; isn’t a buffet simply an extravagant hotel breakfast? The waffle was underwhelming, lacking the expected lightness and texture. Among the more promising offerings, the prime rib stood out, and I treated myself to an enjoyable dessert assortment afterward.
Day Three
My next destination was the Buffet at Wynn, an airy space filled with diners enjoying an array of dishes beneath a grand glass atrium. For a steep price of $150.03 for two, we embarked on our culinary journey. The buffet’s layout featured beautifully arranged counters and a captivating cheese display. As lunch transitioned into dinner, I experienced a mix of the breakfast and dinner offerings, resulting in deliciously surprising finds, including a standout banana caramel cinnamon roll.
In pursuit of variety, I eventually spotted premium offerings, such as crab legs and prime rib, adding to my overall delight. However, the search for french fries persisted, though I later learned they could be requested.
Day Four
After my colleagues’ departure, I ventured solo to the Luxor. The elaborate decor boasted theatrical elements reminiscent of ancient Egypt, though I found the food lacking compared to my previous experiences. The ambiance offered a playful nostalgia, yet the cuisine did not quite live up to my expectations.
Despite this, the Luxor’s buffet attracts significant crowds, often featuring guests benefiting from complimentary entries through gaming. My experience culminated in a soft serve dessert that was undeniably vivid in color, leaving a quirky impression.
Day Five
Continuing my adventure at Wicked Spoon in the Cosmopolitan, I was joined by two friends experiencing their first Vegas buffet. The experience proved overwhelming, but I surrendered to the smorgasbord of choices. This buffet, characterized by small portion sizes, is known for its beautifully presented dishes. Despite challenges in maintaining consumption levels, I found an enjoyable treat in the form of pre-portioned crab legs, remarking how luxury comes in not having to labor over meals.
Confronted with guilt over the amount of food waste, I appreciated the Cosmopolitan’s efforts to redirect unsampled food to local farms for use as animal feed. My escapades through the buffet lines had concerning implications for waste, making me more aware of my impact.
After leaving the buffet, I noted the rise of food halls as a trend in modern casinos, replacing traditional buffets in new establishments like Resorts World. With preferences shifting post-pandemic, many casinos have opted for food hall formats that cater to evolving customer desires.
While the pandemic had an extensive impact on buffets, leading many to remain closed or transition their format, industry insiders point to a future where culinary models are adjusted to reflect market demands.
Day Six
At the MGM Grand buffet, I was thrilled to see others dining alone like me. I finally managed to find proper french fries, adding a welcome addition to my already eclectic plate. Realizing the true indulgence of buffets, I found satisfaction in my meal, despite again facing the missing coffee issue— prompting frustration that began to feel personal.
Day Seven
Venturing to the Palms, famous for its lobster nights, I faced the challenge of eating alone once more. Surrounded by families eager to maximize their enjoyment, I found myself self-conscious while focusing on devouring a hearty serving of lobster. However, my appetite waned due to previous buffet fatigue, and I watched as others made considerable headway on their feasts.
Day Eight
Planning a two-buffet day, I visited Excalibur and Circus Circus to conclude my journey. I experienced discontent with the environment and was met with a lackluster spread, leading me to question the worth of my buffet investment as the nostalgic charm I anticipated wasn’t realized.
Day Nine
Though I anticipated my buffet journey ending on Day Eight, the Bellagio resurrected its buffet for dinner service shortly after my wrap-up. Upon returning, I found the atmosphere vibrant and filled with diners eager for the allure of buffet dining. Engaging with fellow diners highlighted the intrinsic joy found in the buffet experience, characterized by hearts set on indulgence.
My updated dining experience reinforced the notion that in Las Vegas, where the entertainment landscape continues to evolve, excess remains a treasured commodity, and buffet dining becomes an emblematic celebration of this gluttony.
Source
vegas.eater.com