Bad taste becomes kitsch over time, and eventually, turns chic. A case in point: The Communist design theme at KGB, short for Kerry’s Gourmet Burgers, which includes a crystal hammer and sickle and a slew of social realist murals in the Cyrillic alphabet, including a Red beauty with a décolletage that could have stopped the Revolution.

Kerry is peripatetic chef Kerry Simon, aka the Iron Chef, aka the Rock and Roll Chef, a Jean-Georges Vongerichten protégé who came here to be Executive Chef at Prime in the Bellagio. KGB replaced Penazzi in an obscure corner space at Harrah’s, now fronted by an Oyster Bar.

Harrah’s seems to be struggling for its brand. The huge, always busy casino has a prime (there’s that word again) mid-Strip location and the busiest parking garage I know of, yet has no nightclub, and a lack of high profile restaurants to boot. They do have a good steakhouse, The Range, and Toby Keith’s I Love This Bar and Grill near the garage, but I haven’t eaten there since I tasted their fried bologna sandwich.

And as to Simon’s latest incarnation, for those of you who have not followed his spiritual path (the man is ageless, for one thing, and has a healthy vegetable shake every morning), he also has Simon Restaurant and Lounge at the Palms, formerly, not to confuse you, Simon Kitchen and Bar at the Hard Rock. He was also involved with CatHouse at the Luxor, which no longer serves food. (Anyone getting involved with the Luxor not named Tutankhamen, by the way, take ten steps backward.)

Now, it would be tempting to say that Simon was jumping on a wagon by doing the latest burger place. (Merciful Heavens, will there never be a respite?) But the fact it, the chef has been doing this sort of food for a long time, well before his competition.

His menus have always been full of gourmet burgers, gourmet Tater Tots, even gourmet Hostess cupcakes, and that long before the hard to explain cupcake craze hit the universe. And that’s probably why the place is as good, or better, than almost every burger joint on the Strip. Simon says, eat hamburgers. He definitely knows how to cook them.

This is a fairly handsome place: it’s obvious that some money went into the construction. Striking dark brown leatherette lampshades are hung from the ceiling, looking like a fleet of spaceships descending to Earth.

The floor is brushed oak, (Simon says, wood floors are important), and an iced vodka bar complete with rows of silver metal chairs fronts the open kitchen. Why with burgers? KGB, get it, wink wink, nudge nudge. The three Slavic maidens pouring it won’t hurt business, either.

The menu is a collaborative effort, but mainly Simon. The chef is ably assisted by Harrah’s Executive Chef, veteran Christophe Domergue, a gorgeous redhead, Pastry Chef Amy Byro, and Chef de Cuisine Georges Tapia, a holdover from Penazzi.

So what shall we eat? Grilled shishito peppers are a must, with a terrific chili ponzu dipping sauce. So are artery cloggers like fried homemade garlic dill pickles with a tempura light batter, and the richest soup in the cosmos, bacon cheeseburger. Don’t ask!

Six-pack Iron Chef Sliders were unavailable on my visit, but they are also on the snacks menu, and are what the chef created on TV. You’ll have the option to build your own burger by choosing a patty, such as the excellent Creekstone Farms beef, Heritage turkey, grilled chicken breast or, dare we say it, veggie burger, then picking bun, cheese and extras.

But I’d prefer to get one of the already conceived burgers, short rib Sloppy Joe burger, the Cali, with avocado, red onion, tomatoes, and, thanks chef Simon, alfalfa sprouts, or my favorite, the Thanksgiving turkey burger, which outshines the famous Bobbie at Capriotti’s with ease, thanks to Simon’s wonderfully gooey stuffing.

No one is allowed to leave with tasting sweet potato Tater Tots. I can promise you’ll eat the entire cone. Yes, there are cupcakes, and also a few inner child sweets, like cotton candy and caramel popcorn, both a trademark of the chef.

The big hitter, though, is the Captain Crunch shake, based on a mix of vanilla ice cream and the cereal, pureed until it becomes an emulsion as thick and sweet as Pamela Anderson. Topped with whipped cream and pieces of the matchless cereal, and served in a tall parfait glass, it is a great metaphor for Vegas.

Nothing exceeds like excess.

At Harrah’s Casino. 369-5000. Open 11 a.m.-11 p.m. daily.