What happens in Vegas, stays on your waistline ¹

by Katrina • Food, Travel • Tags: Brunch, Restaurants, The Husband, Vegas

I’ve got some explaining to do.

Yesterday, I threw my last shred of self respect out the window and ventured into the Imperial Palace Hotel and Casino.

It was the one place in Vegas I vowed to never set foot in. My only excuse is that I was lured there by visions of girls dressed up as potatoes and bacon dancing in knee high boots to “Love Shack”, their faces illuminated by the faint glow of lava lamps.

At least that’s what I expected when Scott informed me he was taking me to Hash House a-go-go (located in Imperial Palace) for brunch.

The bad news? No breakfast themed go go dancers. The good news? Chicken and waffles.

I have to give Scott credit for seeing past their creepy tag line, (“Twisted farm food” Ewww. ) and insisting we give it a try as they’ve been featured on Man vs. Food.

It took a lot of bravery, but I made my way through the “I.P.” to Hash House, which actually looked kind of cool. Go figure. Too bad the wait for a table was at least an hour. I saw this as my chance to make a run for it, but quickly agreed to stay when Scott sent me to the nearest roulette table with a fresh Bloody Mary in hand. While I lost twenty dollars by the time our table was ready, the dealer was a Filipino Tina Turner, so really, it was a win. Somehow it just hurts less when she’s the one sweeping your hard earned money away.

Finally, it was time to eat. I quickly ordered the chicken and waffles, which clearly upset Scott.

: How dare you order what me and my iPhone were going to eat?!

He’s vehemently opposed to ordering two of the same thing, and I had stolen his (and iPhone’s) breakfast. Instead he requested the Andy’s Sage Fried Chicken Benedit, which wasn’t so bad as it was the dish featured on his beloved Man vs. Food.

When the waiter brought out our plates, they did not disappoint. I give you, exhibit A:

I didn't think chicken and waffles could ever be classy. I thought wrong.

What's this you ask? Why, it's fried chicken, bacon, spinach, tomato, fried spaghetti, scrambled eggs, chipotle cream sauce and two biscuits. Obviously.

…and exibhit B (the b is for bloated):

Shameful.

You don’t want to know what happened in between these two photos. Although it looked a little something like this.

Get angry with it.

We were very, very ashamed of ourselves. So ashamed that I had to record video evidence just in case we ever thought it might be a good idea to go back.

Well, at least I won something in Vegas.

PS…I had to replay this to Scott the next morning when he suggested we make a triumphant return to the Hash House.

I must say that dinner last night wasn’t much better…but Scott and I have promised to pretend it never happened, which means it can’t be discussed on the internet.

What can be discussed is the blueberry muffin I scarfed down this morning, which was quite literally the size of my head.

Someone may or may not have asked if I was pregnant today at the pool.

And that person may or may not have been my husband.

Relax, I’m just kidding.

But I’m pretty sure he was thinking it.

But seriously, does this mean I finally get to buy some of the cute Liz Lange maternity clothes at Target?