When it's not grotesque and/or tragic, Nevada is fun

We're on our family road trip, currently in the Nevada phase of the ordeal  joyful odyssey. Since this is a food blog, I'll try to restrict myself to interesting eating experiences which, given our itinerary (Idaho, Wyoming, and South Dakota) will mean short posts. 

As many of you probably know, Nevada is known for its Basque restaurants, and in Reno last night we hit Louis'. I was too shy to photograph inside the restaurant, so I will describe: communal tables, waitresses in what I took to be Basque peasant garb, faux-wood paneling, and a hearty set menu featuring Wednesday's appetizer: tongue. The platter of tongue, partially submerged in what appeared to be wine sauce, was removed from the communal table twenty minutes after it appeared, essentially untouched. This was sad. I love that they serve tongue, but it doesn't mean I can eat it. There was also a mountain of french fries, a tureen of soup tasting of bouillon cubes, a salad, beans and sausage, steak, and dry Jack cheese to finish. 

Food wasn't great, but we felt better giving Louis our money than, say, Denny.