Wednesday, June 2^nd, Rain nightclub at the Palms Casino hosted the annual charity event, Taste of the Nation, from which the proceeds go toward ending childhood hunger in the United States, by means of the charities Three Square and others worthy participants.

I was an invited guest, and for the first time, felt guilty about it. It felt like there were just too many of us. I often complain about the parade of schnorrers that show up for these parties. And on this occasion, I’m sorry to say I felt like one of them.

The event, co-chaired by Wynn Country Club Chef Carlos Guia, and Wynn Manager Jennifer Lasala, was an absolute blowout. More than 30 of the city’s best chefs participated, among them Martin Heierling of Sensi, Michael Jordan of Rosemary’s, and Zach Allen of Carnevino.

In addition, Chef Rick Moonen was schmoozing the crowd with his sous-chef Adam Sobel, and ever-present eminence grise Robin Leach there following the proceedings from his poolside perch. A good time was had by all, especially we schnorrers.

In spite of the good food, convivial atmosphere and alcoholic beverages that flowed like BP oil, however, the turnout was a rather large disappoinment. This, we don’t understand. Ticket prices at the door were $75 for General Admission, $100 for a VIP admission, which meant a 5:30 entry. That’s the price of an average dinner on the Strip, and here, you could drink yourself quite literally into oblivion at the literally dozens of makeshift bars.

In fact, this was such a good deal, I can only think that the marketing was sub-standard. Before I even entered, for instance, I was already a victim to the intense rum called Zacapa, poured from an icy display. In the vast Rain nightclub, two levels were filled with chefs cooking at an array of booths. Outside, in the pool area, the festivities continued.

First, I ate a pair of wrapped sandwich by the Indian chef Jelota, who cooks tandoori meats at Sensi in the Bellagio with chef Heierling. This might have been the star dish of the evening, until it was upstaged by the charcuterie of Zach Allen, country pates, salamis, and a wonderful thing called ciccioli, from the Emilia-Romagna region of Italy, scraps of fatty meat rendered until they form a shape.

The host chef, Geno Bernardo from Nove upstairs in the Palms Fantasy Tower, cooked a grilled octopus salad. There were burgers galore from such venues as Burger Bar, and an irresistible shabu-shabu shooter by Chef Linda Rodriguez of Hachi at the Red Rock Casino.

After my fourth burger and fifth mojito, I availed myself of a flourless chocolate cake from Hachi, and several of Megan Romano’s chocolate confections. If you don’t know her, she is Charlie Palmer’s pastry chef at Aureole, and one of the best dessert makers in America.

Full to capacity, I still went back to the Carnevino booth, for seconds on ciccioli and salami. Once a glutton, always a glutton, I guess. Since I’ve chastised you for not being there, you’d better be here next year. I plan to be, and I’m paying to get in next year. Don’t say it.

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