And it was delicious!
If you can't tell, that's tiramisu in a giant chocolate egg cup, made a little less fancy for the paper plates and Pepsi machine hanging out in the background.
This may make me sound like a giant nerd, but my favorite thing to do in Vegas is walk through the casinos. "Ooh-ing" at the Chihuly glass at the Bellagio, "Aah-ing" at the pirate ship outside
Treasure Island, hunting down every exotic animal on the strip. Lions at the MGM Grand. Tigers at the Mirage. Flamingos... at the Flamingo.
And it's fun to see how the casinos are different, but still the same. The ceilings feel close to your head (even if they aren't), and the lights are kept low, the better to tie your attention to the flash and jangle of the slot machines. And if you're committed to losing your quarters, you probably don't notice, or care, but if you're just walking the floors, it can feel a little claustrophobic.
Which is why stepping into the Paris is such a breath of fresh air. The ceiling is high, or it feels high, perhaps it's just painted to look high. It's still dark, but the street lamps hanging from the cast iron awnings that cover the tables and machines give the impression that you're gambling away on a Parisian sidewalk just after sunset, instead of midday in a Nevada desert.
We follow the path of fake cobblestones to the line of gift and snack shops, all done up stone facades and curly-cue signs to match the bright blue sky painted over our heads. We've been walking long enough for our feet to throb just a little, and our stomach to rumble just enough, that when we catch sight of dessert in the window, we decide to treat ourselves to an unbalanced meal. It is Vegas, after all.
(We did split a sandwich before hand, for our own piece of mind. And because the sandwiches looked delicious, but I didn't think to snap a picture. Sorry!)