Planet Dailies almost made me stop doing this series.
Planet Dailies Las Vegas is kinda dumpy.
I’ve been doing the late night/early morning dining blog posts for about a year now. I started out thinking I could hit the strip with $10 and get in and out of there without going over. That was naive to say the least.
The posts kinda “evolved” into a late-night eats thing without so much focus on the price. As it turns out, the food really sucks in the resorts late at night. My best experiences have been at the hotels Downtown, and independent restaurants which aren’t associated with a hotel.
Typically, off-strip hotels are the worst. I am one who goes around complaining about how the coffee shops are not the “go-to” they once were and how bad it sucks that you have to eat from a food court.
I’m starting to think that I’d rather eat Nathan’s wieners than the crap I’ve been getting lately on the graveyard shift. I had two sub-par breakfasts in a row this weekend, and the first one at Planet Dailies had a Hollywood price tag.
It lived up to its Hollywood reputation, i.e., The food I ate at Planet Dailies was over-priced, over-hyped garbage. The slickest menu design you’ve ever seen though.
The offending menu item in question was listed on the Planet Dailies menu as a “bacon chop.” I asked the waitress what a bacon chop is and she tells me it’s a pork chop like I’m an idiot and should have figured that one out. My bad.
The Planet Dailies bacon chop turned out to be an overcooked tiny ass pork chop served with three rubbery eggs, crappy ass french fries, and a single piece of large, bone-dry sourdough toast. No, there was no jelly or butter brought or offered.
The plate was obviously under the lamps for a minute.
In fact, servers, look at the picture. See the eggs? That’s total heat lamp burn, right?
This atrocity was brought to me by “Planet Dailies” c/o “Planet Hollywood Hotel and Casino.” is that an f-you on a plate, or what?
There is another Planet Dailies location. It’s in Los Angeles by the Farmer’s Market on West Third Street, because they are kinda like a place that might maybe could serve farm fresh food because there is a pork chop on the menu.
Read the description they wrote for themselves. They are all proud of themselves.
“A daily changing eatery with an inspiring design, innovative technology and a nod to Hollywood…Planet Dailies combines all this under one roof with an over-the-top food selection for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
Then they plaster this photo on the front page right under the websites media label.
Because I give two zuchinnis that a British pop sensation visited Planet Dailies.
Look, man. This load of dookie was a straight up insult and the waitress was even worse. I was numero uno on her pay no mind list, and I really wanted to go Joe Pesci on the airhead.
By the nineteenth “honey” or “sweetie” it might as well have been screeches from a wounded banshee. I was so wishing I had a revolver and a shovel. I mean it was the condescending tone and everything. Then how she tried to play it off as if I wouldn’t notice that she forgot about me. Grrrr.
She didn’t deliver my food, or my water refill. Just my check. She though that umpteen “How you doin’ hon?” would make up for it.
“Yes, sugar snatch, the food is as good now, as it was forty-five seconds ago, but if you’d open your eyes and stop trying to perform CPR on your tip, you’d see that my coffee cup is empty.”