My final entry, for no other reason than being completely and shamefully bored with this food blogging thing.

To celebrate commemorate, I'll showcase Gyenari, a place I've been frequenting pretty often of late (especially for lunch), as it has provided my friends and I many nights of fun which, I think, is the quintessential ingredient for any great meal.

I can't understand why any of you read this blog (my patois is boring and utterly devoid of any purpose), but thanks. And thanks to the team at MyModernMet, FemmeRationale, AeraWrite, fellow Foodbuzzer Gastronomy, and 3BuckBites dictator FrugalNosh for the plugs / links.

I've been terribly fortunate in the past year to have traveled as much as I have, seen all that I've seen and eaten all that I have. This site was never meant to continue ad infinitum and so, with new endeavors in my life quickly approaching, out with the old.

In other words, I'm folding up the chairs because, fuck it, I can.

Yes, The French Laundry does make for a memorable meal, but I don't think it's the tantric orgasm that many make it out to be. To be fair, however, I thought the meal was comparable to the one at Sona, but a pinch short of those found at Alain Ducasse or Pierre Gagnaire.

One noteworthy item: the pork belly. So goddamn good I knocked over my glass of water when my boner hit the bottom of the table.

I've said it here and I'll say it again--I've never had a bad meal at any Mario Batali joint, be it New York, Los Angeles and now, Vegas.

Carnevino is purely about meat--sure, you can can sides and appetizers, but beef and more beef are what this place excels at. If you have to get a side, opt for the mashed potatoes that--as only morbidly obese chefs can do so well--house an egg yolk for you mix through as well as strips of bacon used as garnish.

With a bottle of moderately priced wine, dinner should be about $150 - 200 per person with tip.

Or it could be $350 per person if you include the 8 glasses of scotch to help you cope with how you lost the next 4 months of rent as well as pawning your watch that you received for graduation and maybe even the gift you got your old man for Father's Day. Not that I know anything about any of that.

Greed? Check. Gluttony? You know it. Lust? Absolutely.

I think that summarizes dinner at Delmonico in the Venetian. Normally, I'm too wired and strung out to eat well in Vegas, but winning 8 straight hands at blackjack is the ultimate panacea.

My winnings had me gorging on the bone-in ribeye which, if you can't tell, I finished until I found myself gnawing at the bone. Surprisingly, the banana cream pie was almost as good as the meat: thick, moist and served chilled.

Like Kate Gosselin, except replace "thick, most and served chilled with "raging money-hungry bitch". That makes no sense--I probably could've segued that a little better.