Here’s what you, fellow hearty eater, need to know: order the chicken and waffles. It will easily feed an entire herd of western buffalo. Or it will feed you and one other whom you love enough to share it with. It is two feet tall and it smells like freaking heaven. If I had the money, swear to God, I would jump a plane to Las Vegas right now just to eat the Hash House Chicken and Waffles.
But I’ve jumped ahead here. There are two Hash Houses in Vegas: one at the Rio (it has a tractor, so maybe it wins, but it’s not open 24/7) and one at the Linq (which is open 24/7 minus the tractor but add a life-size fiberglass cow). The prices are reasonable; the service good, the portions positively insanely large. For what it’s worth, my boy and I can eat. Like large portions. An insane amount of food. And we were able to share one entree and not finish it. Which has never happened before anywhere. We’re really good eaters. But at Hash House? We have freaking leftovers.
Before you even receive your food, do you know what Hash House does? They bring you a pound and a half of biscuits with butter and strawberry jelly or jam, whatevs. It’s house-made and it’s exceptional (and I’m not generally a jam-girl). It’s enough to feed an army, so even though you want to, do NOT finish the biscuit.
You are not going to want to miss the main dish of whatever you ordered. If it’s the Pub Crawl sandwich, it’s brown mustard, homemade corned beef, Texas Toast, and glory. If it’s the Breakfast Benedict Whatever (I can’t remember now, because that was August, but it was magnificent. Magnificent with a sprig of rosemary!), well, you will need two very hearty eaters to finish one plate.
I can’t tell you how good the food is at Hash House. I just know that it’s worth bankrupting yourself to do so.
The chain was begun by fellow Hoosiers. So. There’s that.
In all of Vegas, you will not find a better use for $12.99 (average price of probably four pounds of food on a white china plate).
Hash House is unreal. For the sake of fairness, I will say this: my travelling companions said that the Hash House had a second day penalty (if you know what I’m saying here.) I experienced no such malady and would like to tell you that if I had a million dollars right this very second, sad as it is, I would totally use it to fly to Las Vegas and order up Chicken and Waffles, two feet tall, at the Hash House a Go-Go.
Their light fixtures mimic pig snouts. They’re very good at the whole industrial-agriculture aesthetic. And they’re good at the whole food thing.
I love Hash House. I want to go to there. If you’re near one, not just in Vegas, you should. Right this damned second.