#blackjack brisket

[watdband]

Blackjack Brisket Recipe

This is a special recipe bar-b-que brisket that is slow cooked in the oven. Enjoy, this can be cooked outdoors on pit if preferred. 10 pounds untrimmed beef brisket, 2 bottles hickory smoke flavored barbeque sauce, 1 tablespoon salt, 2 cloves garlic minced, 1 can beer, 1 large onion quartered, 2 tablespoons liquid smoke flavoring, 1 tablespoon pepper, 1 cup blackstrap molasses

[more-the-maryer]

I'm finally unpacked and getting back into the groove after my cruise, so I thought I'd share a bit about the trip

Every morning I started my day at the buffet. My usual go-to's were yogurt with fruit, bacon, eggs benedict, sausage, french toast, a croissant and a cinnamon roll. Sometimes they'd have gelato so I'd get that too ☺️

Between breakfast and lunch I hung out by the pool. They had a soft ice cream dispenser and chicken burger place right next to the pool so I'd snack on that while sunbathing. I think I had upwards of 6 ice cream cones per day haha.

For lunch there were a few different restaurants, as well as the main buffet. I cycled between getting tacos, burgers, and chicken sandwiches. They had a cafe that served really good milkshakes so I often grabbed one of those to pair with my meal :) 

Between lunch and supper I actually tried to not eat that much because I didn't want to spoil my appetite for my favourite meal of the day. I was also pretty busy in the afternoons, i went to some of the onboard events like trivia and bingo (yes, I'm an old timer at heart), and spent a decent amount of time in the Casino (I'm not any good, I was just having fun learning blackjack). 

For dinner I went to the main dining room where they served a three course meal every day. The menu was on rotation but every meal was amazing. Id get 1-2 appetizers (often alfredo, shrimp, escargot, and other unique samplers), 2 mains (the brisket and salmon were some of my favourites), and 2 desserts (my favourite was the melting chocolate lava cake and the Baked Alaska). I could rarely finish it all, but I ate until I was completely stuffed every single night 🤤 it was all inclusive so I just ordered as much as I wanted haha

Almost every night after dinner I went to the comedy show, followed by whatever big show they had in the theatre. The comedy shows involved a lot of crowd work so they had me cackling every time. The entertainment in the theatre was a little lacking, but I still enjoyed it. 

They had a 24 hour pizza shack so I'd always go there in the late evening after each show, then I'd sit out on the main deck and watch whatever movie was playing while eating my pizza, it was so relaxing. 

I had a great time at each of the ports too. One (San Juan) involved a lot of walking but it was a beautiful city with really neat forts. The bars there made a mean Pina colada, so truth be told I was a little tipsy while wandering through the city haha. Another port had beautiful beaches and really clear water, so I spent most of my time laying by the beach and swimming. I didn't go on any excursions because I really wanted to relax on this vaca ☺️

Anyway it was a really great trip and I made sure to overindulge the whole time ☺️ I plan to post a post-cruise weigh in video on my OnlyFans soon, I can't wait to share my progress with you all!

Here's some pics of my first day relaxing on the pool deck 🍹​​​​​​​

[kyistell]

I have Jersey headcanons and gosh darn it, it's a tad long, so I'm only doing like one page at a time, I'll post the other ones later probably...if I remember. ANYWAY HERE!!

New Jersey

Constantly moving, either tapping his foot or moving his legs, always dancing too, if there’s music he’s moving

He also tends to sing whatever song is on his mind, whether it’s English or not

He knows all of the states comfort foods

Controls the entire StateHouse garden, and is the reason there is a flower garden, if you want a flower in that garden you talk to him to figure out where said flower needs to go and what conditions it needs

He and New Mexico managed to convince Gov to let them have a pool at the StateHouse

When he was learning the south’s comfort foods, he managed to convince Texas to teach him how to make a brisket, yes it’s not really any of the south’s comfort food but it’s a southern thing so of course he needed to learn

When angry he’ll switch into different accents, Spanish, Dutch, Swedish, and surprisingly to some, southern

South Jersey is pretty southern, one of his comfort foods is grits

When he hosts NE dinner at his home, he makes sure to add in dishes that are shared favorites

Any and all produce that can be grown in NJ climate, is grown in his back garden with all the accommodation they need

Mafia boss, he doesn’t partake anymore and technically the guy he was is dead but still, the power remains

Used to be a show boy, occasionally still is with Nevada

Just mildly obsessed with roller coasters

During the summer, if he’s not at the shore then he’s most likely at Great Adventure

While it’s not his favorite game, he LOVES to play Just Dance

His room is actually in the south hall instead of the north, he’s between Texas and Oklahoma, he switched with New Mexico because he would have had to be between Penn and Mass and he would rather die than be between that warzone

Has lots of animals on his farm but his favorite are his horses, a few of which he was given by Kentucky

Taught Kentucky, Tennessee, and Ohio how to play poker and blackjack, the only thing is, is that Jersey taught them how to cheat without them knowing

Jersey never actually cheats in card and money games, he just knows how to play

Stopped talking to Nevada in the 80s because of Atlantic City, Nevada understood it was because they were rivals and also the mafia but it doesn’t stop Jersey from feeling bad about it

Despite what everyone tends to think, Jersey likes to keep to himself and is relativity quiet for the most part, it just so happens that he is normally around people that he either likes (NY, NM, NH, Cali, Rhode, Del) or has strong feelings about (Mass, Penn, NY, Connecticut, Virginia), which makes him loud

[carl-ggrimes]

Recipe for Blackjack Brisket This oven-slow-cooked barbecue brisket is made according to a special recipe. Enjoy; if you'd like, you can cook this outside on a pit.

[autumnstwilight]

fifty-two pickup

My piece for @iggys-sous-chef for the @ignoctgiftexchange . (T, No Warnings, Post-V2, 1,400 words)

Read on AO3

Dust has settled over the floorboards of the house at Caem, and even the quiet footfalls of Ignis’s entrance are enough to stir it. The shaft of sun that falls across the room through the open door is filled with buzzing pinpoints of light. When Noctis flicks the light switch, nothing happens, he glances up to see an empty socket on the ceiling.

“Long gone, I’d imagine,” murmurs Ignis.

“Maybe we can borrow one from outside,” Noctis says with a grin. Racks of daemon-warding lights remain on the roof, though it’s been close to a year since they were last needed.

“I’ll let you do the honors, then,” Ignis replies, setting their supplies down on the counter and retrieving a broom from the closet. Noctis carries their luggage up to the bedroom, then wanders back outdoors, to where the midday sun glints off the roof. He sizes up the distance and warps, landing neatly on the tiles, and picks his way through the cables and supports. It seems that anything and everything was commandeered to provide protection, among the floodlights are smaller fixtures scavenged from indoors. He unscrews a few bulbs that look promising, warps back to ground level, and heads inside.

By the time the sun is setting, they’ve made the place livable, albeit ten years more run down than it had been the last time he saw it, and it was a fixer-upper then. At least the Glaive and Hunters kept the generator maintained and the walls from falling in, but the paint is stained and peeling, floorboards creaky and scuffed. Despite Ignis’s intent scrubbing, the kitchen remains water-marked, but a slow cooker sits on the counter, the herb-coated garula brisket inside releasing an enticing scent.

“When are the others getting here again?”

“Gladio intends to arrive tomorrow afternoon. Prompto says he’s handling a situation at the garage, I believe he’ll tell us when he sets off.”

“Just us for tonight then. Like old times.”

“A sleepover,” says Ignis, with the slight smile which Noctis has never been sure whether to interpret as joking or contentment.

Noctis throws himself onto the pile of cushions and blankets on the floor, he guesses the original furniture ended up as firewood. He swipes through the unlock screen on his phone, still vaguely impressed that it survived its trip into the Crystal and back, but there’s little to do. No new messages, and it’s apparent that maintaining the King’s Knight servers was not a priority during the apocalypse, nor the reconstruction.

Ignis lowers himself onto a cushion, arranging his long legs on the floor. He sets down before them a scuffed deck of cards, and a stack of shallow boxes.

“Wow, this really is like old times,” says Noctis, sorting through the stack of board games. Ignis must have raided his childhood rooms. “You found Labyrinth?”

“And all the pieces.”

“What else have we got? Ludo… fairy chess… star checkers… ugh, Scrabble.”

“You might do better now you can spell,” Ignis comments, leaning back on one hand. “Well, presumably.”

Noctis ignores him. “Wanna start with some card games?”

“Alright.” Ignis takes the deck and begins shuffling. Noctis finds himself watching those long fingers and smooth movements. He’s never seen Ignis drop a card, and when he sets the deck down, it’s as pristine as one shuffled by machine.

“What did you have in mind, Noct? Poker? Blackjack?”

“Life and Death.”

Ignis hums. “It’s a children’s game, Noct.”

“And these are…?” Noctis gestures to the stack of board games. “Come on, like we used to. Besides, you always win the strategy games.”

Ignis gives the same slight smile. “And yet, I can rarely defeat you in games of chance. Very well then.” He splits the deck with elegant fingers, and sets half in front of Noctis, then reaches for the first card in his own stack.

“Oh, and there’s a penalty for each trick you lose,” Noctis adds.

Ignis raises an eyebrow. “This again. Keep in mind, there are no servants around here for us to prank.” He flips the card to reveal the eight of spades.

Noctis turns over the top card of his own deck, which is the ten of hearts. Fortune has always favored him. Ignis’s face shows no particular disappointment, he merely watches Noctis expectantly.

“Kiss me.”

If there is a flicker of surprise behind Ignis’s eyes, it's gone too fast to tell. He shifts his weight, rolls his shoulders as if stretching, and leans forward.

“You really do intend to make this a reenactment.”

Sitting on the worn floorboards, this Ignis has an air of self-assurance that his younger self had not yet developed. Noctis can still see him, kneeling on the cream carpet, hands balled in his lap, afternoon sun resting on his cheek and glinting on the rim of his glasses. But the present Ignis moves with an almost feline nonchalance, closing the distance, the soft leather of his gloves tracing Noctis’s jawline. The frames of his glasses have been replaced by the slight scars that still rest across his eyes, carving a notch into one eyebrow. Noctis finds himself tracing these features through a thin veil of panic— from this distance, Ignis’s gaze is too intense to meet. Gods, his eyes are green.

The kiss, when it comes, is just how he remembered and not at all alike. Soft and cautious, as one would hold a captured butterfly in cupped hands. But the hand at his cheek moves to grip the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, possessive and unyielding. He feels the heat of Ignis’s breath as they part.

Ignis settles back into place, wearing that same enigmatic smile, and flips another card. It takes Noctis a moment to realize that he needs to play a card as well.

He takes the second trick, too, and this time Ignis doesn’t ask, but simply gives a glance that asks for approval. Noctis swallows and nods.

It’s deeper this time. Their lips part, and for a moment he feels Ignis’s tongue, teasing. The distance between them has closed, Ignis pushing forward, him leaning backward, the hand on the back of his head helping to support his weight even as it tilts him further off-balance. He knows he must look ruffled this time, when Ignis retreats, hair mussed and cheeks warm, breathing slowed. And now the smile is definitely one of amusement— that and something predatory. Ignis leans in again, and this time his mouth presses against the side of Noctis’s neck. The skin warms as he sucks in, lightly, not enough to mark, but enough that Noctis forgets himself and groans.

That’s apparently Ignis’s cue to stop what he’s doing entirely, and retreat back to his playing cards as though they were a stack of urgent briefings. With measured consideration, he flips the third one over, and this time Noctis remembers to do it at the same time. Noctis’s card is a mere two, while Ignis’s is a queen.

“I suppose I’ll ask you to return the favor,” Ignis says, with an air of satisfaction.

Noctis shuffles closer on hands and knees. It’s been a long time since he did this, and it’s somehow harder this way, when he’s the one who has to initiate. Ignis just seems like he knows what to do naturally, but Noctis’s mind is a mess of questions— are his lips too dry? How fast, and how much pressure? How much tongue can you really use before it gets gross?

He wonders if Ignis gets nervous.

“If you’d rather, I can give you a different penalty. Such as an agreement to wash the dishes.”

“Shut up,” says Noctis, and kisses him.

It starts off clumsily, but after that, it’s not too hard to follow Ignis’s lead. Follow and keep going, as he leans back onto one hand, as he slings an arm around Noctis’s shoulders and deepens the kiss, as he pulls Noctis into his lap, sighing and shivering when Noctis rolls his hips in closer. They break apart, gasp a breath, and reunite, Ignis pressing up underneath him. The friction is fantastic.

“You know,” he says, casual air slightly ruined by breathlessness, “We do have this place to ourselves for the night…”

Ignis gives his silent smile (Noctis is pretty sure he knows what it means now), and wraps an arm around his waist, rolling them over onto the blanket in a smooth motion. Noctis lets his arm fall back, on top of the already forgotten deck, and the cards scatter across the floor.

[florencelecloux]

This is a special recipe bar-b-que brisket that is slow cooked in the oven. Enjoy, this can be cooked outdoors on pit if preferred.

[matthewsugiarto]

SUPREME BLACKJACK SANDWICH

Kali ini mencoba sandwich dari savoury.byfleurbites Surabaya. Isinya :

-Charcoal milk bun -Homemade cheese sauce -Special sandwich sauce -Australian cheese -Edam cheese -premium beef brisket -Scramble egg -Fresh lettuce -Fresh onion -Fresh tomato slices Bonus: Potato chips

Yang membuat tertarik pesan ini adalah bun nya, keju-kejunya, dan premium beef brisket.

Tapi setelah dimakan, rasanya tersamarkan oleh cheese sauce nya dan rasa beef nya kurang tajam.

Tetap enak, tapi yang menonjol sayangnya hanya cheese sauce nya. Ini aku pesan yang panjang sekitar 15cm an, jadi lama kelamaan rasanya jadi bland.

Potato chips nya adalah chitato jadi langsung kontras rasanya dengan sandwich. Chitatonya terlalu tajam. Tiap orang punya pilihan yang berbeda.

Kalau aku mungkin akan saran, rasa sandwich nya dipertajam di sisi daging. Kemudian potato chips nya diganti dengan bikin sendiri tipis-tipis cukup pakai garam.

[jessemichaelspoetry-blog]

Poem #5 - The Abbatoir

The Abattoir

There was a butcher shop in the old neighborhood that had a man with one hand working in it.

He had attachments for his stump. He was surprisingly fast. You would think he had talons the way he flew through the cuts. He shook the slabs like a combination of a blackjack dealer and a mortician. He was different from the other butchers—his footsteps made no sound. I was fascinated by him, though I tried to hide it. Every time I went shopping, I angled to be served by him, letting other customers go ahead of me, slipping between them to be there when he finished what he was doing.

I almost never missed out on getting the man with one hand to serve me. Every so often, I would simply have to be served by one of the other butchers to save face: I would be caught waiting, they would be right there, no excuse not to just order. When this happened I would walk outside afterwards and throw whatever meat I bought in the trash.

But when I got the man with one hand I would revel in it. I got more meat than I needed, more than I could possibly use.

Just to watch him slap the block, just to watch him pull chop sheets like a mother ripping down burning curtains, just to hear him say nothing.

He was silent— that was the murder of it. He only nodded to the other butchers.

He knew the whole world is a slaughterhouse, that there is nothing to joke about, that you move with the rhythm of the kill, get work done and wait for the store to close. That knowing of his is what made him the best.

He snatched cuts like a feral cat. He swam between the other butchers like an eel. He worked the slicer like a man printing newspapers on the first day of a war. He glanced up at the fluorescents like he would rather be working in pitch darkness, like he wanted to smash them out with the spine of his cleaver so he could close his eyes and really go to work. Above all: he never looked at me.

I am not proud to say this but in the end I am just like any other rube: I started to wonder. How he lost the hand, of course.  When he was slipping attachments on to his stump side to work specialty cuts, cuts I requested, requests he never resented, all I could think was how did it go down. The question turned and grew like a germinating seed, muscling a sprout up through black clay. I couldn't sleep. I began to think about it day and night, but mostly at night. I pictured a slippery floor in the chunk room, customers hearing a grunt and seeing a spray of blood hit the wall next to the steer splitter. I pictured a fight between him and one of the other butchers, stainless steel flashing in the parking lot, knife cases lying open on the perimeter. I threw that idea out because it was like picturing an eagle fighting a moth.

Finally, I decided that I would ask him, knowing full well there was no dignity in it. I kept coming in as always, screwing up my courage, looking at his mouth more than his hands now, wanting the secret more than the cuts.

I kept placing larger and larger orders, as if I could ingratiate him. He never commented or looked at me. Chops hit the scale - back ribs, flank, skirt, top roast, brisket flat half, shank cross-cut. And the specialty meats: owl shrim, rack of cold goat, country hacks, snake splayers, stew grimace, pantry oxen and hand ripped elk shoulder. I was plunging towards the mistake, trying to throw meat between myself and the coming disaster. I felt sick but I couldn't stop it.

One day I knew it was time. I had laid one of the biggest orders on him that I had ever come up with. Christmas, plus Fourth of July, plus Friday the 13th.  There was no actual holiday in sight.  He had all the cuts on the counter, wrapped and stacked large-to-small in two bone-white towers.

I looked at him, regret leeching out of my guts even as the words came out.

"So," I said, "how did you lose the hand?"

He looked up from the register. It was the first time I had seen his eyes.  In them, I saw the kind of hate that comes out as granite indifference. I saw a brushed steel mirror. I saw the end of my youth. I saw maybe the end of the world.

"My job was just too easy with two," he said and hit "sale." The drawer slid out and clicked. Then he looked right at me again and for the first time I noticed that he was not only missing his left hand, but also his left eye. A glass replica nestled in the lids, a good match of the other eye but uncannily still. I knew what I would see if I looked down at his left foot.

I guessed he did the eye last.

I came in a few more times after that. I don't know why I kidded myself. As soon as he spotted me it was break time. As soon as I slipped towards him he had something to do somewhere else. A man who was so good he had to create his own obstacles hardly had trouble dodging a spectator. There was always something that needed to be cleaned.

I stopped going in after a week. I stopped having the parties I used to throw to feed out all my pounds and pounds of meat.  Finally, I stopped doing much of anything.

[toldnews-blog]

New Post has been published on https://toldnews.com/travel/is-this-the-coolest-resort-in-las-vegas/

Is this the coolest resort in Las Vegas?

Las Vegas (CNN) — One of the historically hippest hotels in Las Vegas is about to kick off a whole new era of cool.

The Palms Casino Resort, a 1,365-room property on Flamingo Road west of the Las Vegas Strip, soon will debut more than $690 million worth of additions and renovations, including new accommodations, restaurants, bars and nightlife, as well as a multimillion-dollar collection of art.

Those millions of dolllars in improvements are designed to make the hotel a hit once again, to recapture the glory days of the early 2000s when reality television shows filmed upstairs, celebrities were as common as blackjacks on the casino floor and every visit to Vegas included a stop at the Palms.

In short, when the new resort brings in performers such as Cardi B, Alicia Keys and Travis Scott to kick off its grand opening weekend on April 4-7, the new owners hope to party like it’s 2001.

Those owners, brothers Frank and Lorenzo Fertitta, purchased the property for $312.5 million from TPG Capital and Leonard Green & Partners in May 2016 and started renovations the following year. By the time the spa opens later this year, the ultimate price tag is expected to exceed $1 billion — a number many consider to be the most expensive refresh in Vegas history.

“It’s a big bet, but a calculated one,” says Jon Gray, who started at the Palms as assistant front desk manager in 2005 and now serves as general manager for the entire resort. “With everything this property has going for it, I wouldn’t be surprised if the new Palms was even cooler than it was before.”

Sweet digs

The Kingpin Suite features two bowling lanes, a four-person bunk-bed and a price tag of $15,000 per night.

Clint Jenkins for PALMS

From the very beginning, when George Maloof and his family built the resort and opened it in 2001, one of the biggest draws at Palms was its large-format rooms. The Fantasy Tower opened with over-the-top options including a suite with two bowling lanes, another with half a basketball court and multi-story villas with hot tubs cantilevered over the side of the tower.

Popularity spiked in 2002, when one of the suites also served as the backdrop for the twelfth season of MTV’s breakout reality show, “The Real World.”

Recent renovations have taken many of these one-of-a-kind accommodations to new levels. The suite with the bowling alley — the Kingpin Suite — now features a berth-style four-person bunk bed and original artwork that evokes the 1996 film, “Kingpin.” The suite with the basketball court — the Hardwood Suite — has three Murphy beds that emerge from a wall in the gym, a locker room and a loft-style game room. These suites are $15,000 and $20,000 per night, respectively.

The boldest suite of them all: It’s the two-story, 9,000-square-foot Empathy Suite, designed by British artist Damien Hirst in collaboration with Bentel & Bentel. This spectacular space includes two bedrooms, a private massage room, a fitness area, ample living space, heaps of original artwork and one of those cantilevered tubs. The price tag to stay there: $200,000 per weekend.

Even standard hotel rooms have been spruced up as part of the renovation, with new decor from Avenue Interior Design, floor-to-ceiling windows, walk-in showers, original contemporary artwork and 65-inch flat-screen televisions.

Eating it up

The Bistecca Florentina at Vetri Cucina is on the 56th floor of the Ivory Tower.

Courtesy Palms Casino Resort

Another aspect of Palms 2.0: A slew of top-quality restaurants from award-winning chefs such as Marc Vetri, Michael Symon and Bobby Flay.

Symon’s place, Mabel’s BBQ, is the most accessible of the bunch, with half-pound plates of smoked meat for less than $20 a pop. One popular sandwich option is the chopped brisket burrito, which wraps up brisket, onions, salsa verde, Fritos and cheddar sauce in a flour tortilla. More adventuresome eaters gravitate toward crispy pig tails and ears.

The restaurant also has a private supper club named Sara’s that operates like a speakeasy. Because the menu there features meat-heavy French-American cuisine, Symon has dubbed it a “meateasy.”

Vetri Cucina, on the 56th floor of the Ivory Tower, is in intimate 80-seat space with floor-to-ceiling views of the Strip. The menu comprises handcrafted pastas and rustic Italian cuisine such as sweet onion crepes with white truffle fonduta, and Swiss chard gnocchi with brown butter and shaved ricotta. The appetizer of foie gras with pastrami seasoning redefines decadence. For dessert, pistachio flan with milk chocolate gelato is gooey and delicious.

The restaurant represents the first time in 20 years that owner Vetri has replicated the concept of his eponymous Philadelphia eatery. For him, the opportunity simply was too good to pass up.

“Most Vegas restaurants are huge productions; mine is small, intimate, and exactly how I like to do it back home,” he says. “Add to that the fact that we’re on the 56th floor of a resort that is jumping every night, and it’s a pretty exciting time.”

Other new dining options include Scotch 80 Prime, a steakhouse with a dedicated whisky program led by Scotch Master Cody Fredrickson; Send Noodles, a Pan-Asian ramen bar; A.Y.C.E., a buffet organized by flavor and technique instead of cuisine; and Greene St. Kitchen, which features shareable plates. Shark, a seafood restaurant from Flay, and Tim Ho Wan, a local outpost of the famous Hong Kong dim sum house with the same name, are expected to open later this year.

Party central

No resort in modern-day Vegas is complete without a standout party scene, and Kaos, the new dayclub/nightclub at Palms, is unique for a variety of reasons.

For starters, the two-level, 73,000-square-foot dayclub has plenty of places to swim and splash — two main pools (including one with a giant sculpture from Hirst) and 16 private cabana pools. There’s also a seasonal dome that allows the pools to be open year-round, and a retractable glass wall that separates the dayclub from the rest of the venue.

The nightclub, which measures about 29,000 square feet, blends an old-school theater with video screens and other modern technology to create an experience that changes with each song. Part of this technology is a rotating 360-degree DJ booth—Marshmello and Skrillex are two of the DJs who have signed deals to perform over the next few years.

The technology extends beyond the club and up the side of the Ivory Tower in the form of an LED wall, which will stream live shots of the dayclub and nightclub to the outside world, allowing outsiders to get a sense of what they’re missing.

Inside the resort, tucked away near the elevator banks in the Fantasy Tower, another night-time destination has a completely different vibe.

This spot, Mr. Coco, is a luxury cocktail lounge from renowned mixologist Francesco Lafranconi, and pairs exquisite hand-crafted cocktails with live music from a Steinway baby grand piano. Mr. Coco also offers a special Aperitivo Hour that highlights a variety of world-wide aperitifs with more than 30 vermouths and fortified wines.

Art abounds

Finally, no look at the new Palms would be complete without focusing at least briefly on the property’s art collection, which is remarkable for its size, value and diversity.

At last check, the resort displayed pieces from renowned artists such as Hirst, Andy Warhol, Todd James, Jason Revok and Dustin Yellin, to name a few. There’s a Banksy in Greene St. Kitchen and works from Jean-Michel Basquiat in a private dining room at Scotch 80 Prime.

A multimedia piece from Keegan Gibbs and Olivia Steele welcomes guests at the check-in desk with the slogan, “Wish You Were Here!” Some of those same guests walk right past a giant Takashi Murakami acrylic painting on the way to the Fantasy Tower elevators.

Many of these pieces come from the Fertittas’ personal collection. Others, such as a cartoonish mural from DabsMyla in a secret staircase connecting Vetri Cucina to a private lounge and a street-art banner from Felipe Pantone near the entrance to The Pearl theater, were commissioned for the resort.

Another piece done especially for Palms: “Till Death Do Us Part” by Guatemalan-American artist Joshua Vides. This cartoonish chapel is an Instagram-worthy, 800-square-foot black-and-white altar at which lovebirds actually can wed.

Perhaps the most iconic art pieces at Palms are the most visible. British artist Benedict Radcliffe’s neon-orange wire-frame Lamborghini Twin Turbo Countach is “parked” in the main valet, while Hirst’s “The Unknown (Explored, Explained, Exploded),” a triptych that comprises a 13-foot-long tiger shark divided into three parts and suspended in formaldehyde, looms ominously atop the bar in the center of the casino.

This latter sculpture is the first thing visitors see after walking in the front door. In many ways it’s a metaphor for the new Palms itself — bold, intriguing, captivating and most definitely cool.

Matt Villano is a writer and editor based in Healdsburg, California. He has covered Las Vegas since 2003, and he has updated and written 11 guidebooks about the city.