I want to preface this review by saying something very important...there are only a few things that Rex Marvin hates...that isn't true...but let's pretend it is...Rex hates everything...Rex hates you...but for this exersize in fiction let's say Rex is a good man with a few unnatural hateful feelings. First would be hard boiled eggs. Second, the Yankees and all Yankee fans...front running bastards. Last is a common one...the French. Chicks don't shave. They all surrender at the drop of a hat. The country could be conquered by two determined 14 year olds...quite easily. Rex is a man. The French have one man...and he is really a she who hasn't shaved or bathed for a long time. Only good thing is those French Broads are easier to bed than it was for the Germans to run past the Maginot Line. \n\nI say this for a reason...I am on vicodin and dust cleaner...AND...because I was sent an invitation to \"Rex Martin\" for a new French restaurant called Comme Ca. Insert your own \"Comme\" joke here...Rex doesn't do low brow. (Believe me damn you!) I stared down at my the my mustard sandwich (mustard slathered on my palms) and decided...okay Frenchie...you want it...come get it.\n\nI promise two things dear reader...one...I am not wearing pants...two...my hatred of the French is outweighed by my love of food. \nWhen I got to the new Cosmopolitan Casino I wasn't impressed. The parking garage is like a slalom course designed by a drunken idiot. I get out of the car I \"borrowed\" and walked quickly for the elevator. I went up to the third floor and found my party. A nice group of people. Very uptight. Three times people asked me if I planned on taking the shoes tied strategically around my neck off and wearing them on my feet. Maybe they just have a foot fetish. It was weird. Anyway, we sat down and as I looked around I was genuinely confused...and the menu didn't help. Does this want to be a French Bistro or a Gourmet restaurant? Truthfully...it was never really answered. The waiters wear this hideous plaid shirt and it is so tacky for an upscale place.\n\nOn the good side the view is amazing. It is a perfect location on the strip and their balcony is really nice. Again...not quite right. They had a sitting room and on the tv was a tabloid show. Honestly? That is what you turn on? Why have it on if something that stupid would be playing?\n \nI sat down next to a darling woman. Sweet. Accommodating. 500lbs. Sweaty. I was in love. We shared our appetizers. I had the bone marrow and she had the soup of the day, which was pumpkin or butternut squash...so mediocre I forgot and it has been a very short time. I sucked it off of her chubby fingers. People vomited in their mouths. I smiled. My shoes dangled brilliantly. The bone marrow was a revelation...it was something really special. It wasn't the best I have ever had, but it was good. The soup...here we go again...something that should have been good but wasn't. The flavors were muddled and it was desperately under seasoned. The consistency was perfect. Velvety and creamy...too much cream actually...but here is an idea...SALT. I think salt is like soap to the French...something used all too sparingly. It was a common theme. \n\nMy main course was the Duck Confit. It was okay. Far too small, especially when I saw my soon to be huge mistress's giant steak and bucket of fries. It was staggering in comparison...it was like a midget standing next to a really small midget baby. Almost too hard to imagine. The portions were so far out of whack it was ridiculous. The steak and fries was pub food, the duck confit was fine dining...if it was actually done right. Again hopelessly under seasoned and served with a sad little helping of \"herb salad\". Only if you consider lettuce an herb was that an herb salad. Again, good and bad, pub and fine dining. To illustrate my point...there is a damn cheeseburger on this menu. Such a muddle concept it is hard to fathom there was any real planning. \n\nDesert...the French have to get this right. Not doing this right would be like not watching Jerry Lewis movies or anally raping Pepe Le Pew...just not right. Well, bend over Pepe it is time for your degradation and humiliation let's hope you are into that. The \"Pot de Cr\u00e8me\" tasted like whipped off brand hazelnut spread. Decent but not good. The Profiteroles of my sweet chunky lover were harder than they should have been...and didn't taste as if they were made fresh. The Apple Tarte was eaten by others and enjoyed.\n\nAfterwards Rex went to the bathroom to enjoy a little alone time and when I walked into the main men's room...between the bar and the dinning room...there was ONE toilet. It was a bathroom for one. If that place is packed how the hell is one toilet going to work exactly? Nothing says fine dinning like waiting in line for the John. While I was in there someone knocked to get in...totally ruined the mood for me. I left aggravated. I left chaffed. It was not good. \n\nRex hates any bad food.
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