AquaKnox

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Despite the fact that the Strip is a world-class dining destination right in our own backyard, there still are a lot of locals who avoid it at all costs, and last week I was reminded why.

I was scheduled to review a restaurant at The Venetian, and the place was, quite frankly, a zoo. Rain steadily streaming from our normally clear sky was snarling traffic even worse than usual, and as we entered the property from Las Vegas Boulevard, we were nearly swamped by a sea of taxicabs and tour buses.

Inside, things weren’t much better. There was a big show going on in the convention center, and as we made our way through the casino, we had to weave through tight packs of outdoorsy types in town for the gun and hunting soiree. It was utter chaos on the resort’s restaurant row — which happens to be near the entrance to the convention center — and as I approached the podium at AquaKnox, I had to raise my voice just to be heard. This was, I began to suspect, not one of my brighter ideas.

Then the hostess led us to a table, and the transformation in our surroundings was startling. Gone was the clamor of voices, the crush of bodies. As we settled into our high-backed booth with its buttery upholstery and billowing curtains, we felt like we had nearly escaped from the rest of the world. And a good feeling it was.

That should be the goal of almost any restaurant — to be an oasis of serenity. Edgy and high-energy are fun but only go so far; if I want the press of bodies with my meal, I’ll eat at a ballpark.

But of course, that’s not the whole picture. Other crucial elements are top-notch food and service, a menu that’s interesting without getting weird and prices that won’t blow the rent (and here we’re speaking comparatively, and with the Strip in mind). And in all of those areas, AquaKnox delivered handsomely.

Dinner there starts with lightly peppery, appealingly crisp breadsticks and dabs of smoked-salmon-and-trout mousse that is a rich portent of things to come. The menu is heavily seafood, as you might deduce from the name, although there are the obligatory steaks and chicken. We decided to stick with the stock in trade and were pleased to see not only the customary salmon and ahi and yellowtail but also grouper and the like.

"The like" including John Dory ($35). Compared to grouper, which also tempted, John Dory is far more diminutive and was prepared accordingly, in delicate fillets that had been sauteed gently and served atop a lobster succotash that really did contain chunks of lobster as well as a profusion of corn and some beans. Great textural contrasts there.

And we tried a more familiar fish. Ahi tuna ($34) might readily be found in Las Vegas, but this was far from a commonplace preparation. The fish had been dusted with fennel before it was lightly seared and served with mounds of braised escarole and lentils and a sort of condiment that a bit of menu hyperbole said was a blood-orange chimichurri but that would have been just as tasty had they called it an orange sauce.

Two good-sized Jonah crab claws ($11) were served chilled and were so like the equally meaty, sweet stone crab that I had to check their biological backgrounds. You’d be hard pressed to find stone crab approaching this price, but the Jonah and its creamy mustard sauce flecked with whole mustard seeds was tantamount to a clone.

Clam steamers ($18) were served in a big pot, basking in butter and flavored with garlic and just a bit of chili to counterbalance the assertiveness of the chewy little gems.

And, OK, dessert sounded like a good idea, and the Chocolate Martini ($12), completely lacking the simplicity that made the other dishes so successful, was itself a triumph because of that very lack. There was chocolate panna cotta, espresso ice cream, roasted-cocoa-nib ice cream, chocolate mousse and a skating rink of what the menu called passionfruit tapioca but that we’d call passionfruit gel. And all I can say is wow.

The only problem was that it was awfully difficult to leave.

Las Vegas Review-Journal review are done anonymously at Review-Journal expense. Contact Heidi Knapp Rinella at 383-0474 or e-mail her at hrinella@reviewjournal. com.