I recently spent a weekend at Fontainebleau comped in a Gold King Best Strip View and booked a second room for friends, a Gold Queen Best Mountain View, at a casino rate of $300 per night. I sampled as much as I possibly could over two nights and when I got home, hadn’t even unpacked before texting my host to set up a return trip.

It was that good.

Arrival and Room

VIP check in was excellent; Fontainebleau really nailed it with this set up. Cadillac Escalades and Rolls Royce Phantoms drop guests off at an underground entry where an elevator feeds into the VIP lounge. (I drove in and didn’t experience quite this level of pageantry.) The lounge itself is a massive labyrinth of comfortable seating areas and offers light snacks, coffee, water, soda, juice, beer, wine, and simple cocktails. One wall spans across the opposite side of all the elevator banks so VIP guests, regardless of room type, can zip in and out at all hours—a godsend for 3am water runs.

While some competitive resorts have larger accommodations, Fontainebleau delivers everything one expects in a luxury room in a more refined and polished product. Thread counts are high, towels are plush, toilet paper is thick, writing utensils are weighty, and the robes are lined in sumptuous faux fur. Slippers as well as dry cleaning and laundry bags are presented in an elegant leather valet hanging in the closet. Bath products are exceptional foregoing typical floral and citrus scents for spice, tobacco, and leather.

Electronics worked almost flawlessly. Drapes and lighting do their welcome presentation when first walking in and automatically revert after long periods of undetected motion. Unfortunately, the under-sink night light also turns off when motion isn’t detected entirely defeating the purpose of a night light. The room safe is the deepest wall-mounted unit I’ve come across. You can Chromecast your phone directly to the TV by simply scanning an onscreen QR code.

“59th” floor views (in truth, I don’t know what floor I was actually on—I’d estimate somewhere between 46-48) were phenomenal. I walked to my friends’ room facing the other way and their “Mountain Best View” was just as jaw-dropping, especially during sunset hours.

I wish the shower was completely enclosed; this trend of half-enclosed bullshit needs to stop. At least it heated quickly and pressure from the main nozzle was fantastic, but switching to the rain head produced little more than a trickle. There isn’t a convenient towel bar and I had to shimmy on the bath rug towards the other side of the bathroom to dry off.

Meanwhile, my friends’ room had a smaller yet fully-enclosed shower as well as a deep soaking tub. I can’t seem to find consistency in these floor plans. Perhaps Gold rooms facing north have tubs, but I’m not certain. Both rooms had a large water closet with a separating door that ran floor-to-ceiling to completely seal off ass aromas; seemingly a no-brainer, but the Crock of marble across the street never got the memo and believes roommates should experience the fragrance of each others’ Famous Foods.

Probably smells better on the way out anyway.

Dining

Our first meal was at Vida. The restaurant was near closing but we were greeted warmly and waited on patiently. The room is an eclectic mix of antique-like finishes with modern flair melding brass hardware and deep blue fabrics against white countertops. My American Breakfast ($29) and “Coco Presso” (espresso martini, $19) were just what I needed after the long drive in.

The best steakhouse in Vegas is the one most convenient to you. Therefore, Don’s Prime was the best steakhouse in Vegas. Great steaks (my 9oz filet was $75), beautiful décor, and something on the menu for everyone. Don’s Prime (like any steakhouse at a luxury resort) serves a purpose and serves it well.

Brunch at La Fontaine was exceptional and a must when staying at the resort. Creams, golds, and pastels enliven an otherwise minimalist space. My Spanish omelette ($26) was small but rich enough that I wasn’t able to finish it while the signature green juice ($13) was the perfect hangover cure.

Mother Wolf was a trip highlight. The vibrant din of the casino stops the moment you walk through its doors before the clamor of the crowd greets you as you make your way into the main dining room—this is clearly Fontainebleau’s most popular restaurant and for good reason. Our Sfincione focaccia bread ($12) was a cloud of perfection and the Polpette di Coda short rip meatball ($30) exquisite. At this point I was too drunk to understand the rest of the items so I harnessed my inner three-year-old, saw “spaghetti,” and ordered it. But not just any spaghetti. I had the [copy and pasting from the menu] Spaghetti All’arrabbiata sughetto di pomodoro, aglio, olio santo, diavolicchio, pecorino romano ($26). Come to think of it, now reading the menu sober, I still have no idea what I ordered, but it was spicy and delicious. The three of us finished with a round of Fernets ($15 each), a licorice forward ass juice the taste of which I’ve finally acquired after two decades of hearing about it from licorice forward ass juice fans.

The Promenade food hall is a gem and a more refined, less-overwhelming space than similar concepts in the city. Miami Slice is a top contender for best pizza in Vegas and is open into the wee hours on weekend evenings/mornings. The pepperoni pizza ($9) is a large, thin crust with perfectly crisp, small pepperoni cups capturing the phenomenal hot honey glaze.

We enjoyed our final meal at Washing Potato. The ever-changing spotlights reflect off walls and mirrors to create a dynamic space. It’s a neat concept made mediocre by our selection of boring items. I’ve only ever done dim sum with Asian friends and always let them order for me, but this time, two white guys and a Persian dude walked into a Chinese restaurant (not a joke) and ordered the most unadventurous dumplings: shuimai ($12), squash pine nut ($10), and har gow ($12). To make matters more mediocre, we even threw in an order of veggie spring rolls ($12). Everything was bland and I found myself envious of my buddy who ordered beef chow fun ($23) for himself. The highlight was the delicious nitro cold brew coffee ($7). Regardless of its shortcomings, the menu is extensive and I’m certain I’ll try it again opting for larger, personal-sized entrées.

Drinking

We made several trips to Bleau Bar. Sitting below the crystal bow ties under a soaring ceiling while overlooking the casino is a can’t-miss experience. Classy guy that I am, I enjoyed many a Bud Lights ($9) and, on my last day with the looming responsibility of driving, had their exceptional strawberry lemonade mocktail (don’t remember the exact name, $15); I enjoyed it enough that I’d order it again even if I didn’t have a reason to refrain from alcohol.

Azul is a sultry tequila and mezcal bar. I was the first patron of the day and ponied up to the most incredible bartenders. My first drink was a “Jade Rabbit” ($21), a perfect blend of green chili and shittake infused dos hombres mezcal, kobe sake, lime, honeydew, and orange blossom cloud. Much like the Verbena at Cosmo, this is now my “must order” any time I step foot in Fontainebleau. The bartenders and I got to talking unique and hard-to-find agave spirits. Before I knew it, I was treated to tasters of some incredible brands I’d never heard of. This made me feel special; having spent the better part of the decade almost exclusively an MGM guest, I forgot what it was like to, you know, not just be a number.

Solo Club was a dark, intimate respite from the rest of Fontainebleau’s bright and airy spaces. I love welcoming, pretension-free high limit bars and this was no exception. I couldn’t tell you the specialty cocktail I had though I remember it cost no more than any other bar on property ($21). I also decided to classy the place up and got a Bud Light ($9).

Collins is Fontainebleau’s lobby bar. As a musician by trade, I appreciated the pianist knowing their role and staying in the background (not throwing shade at Petrossian’s self-fallatiating penists). The specialty cocktail menu looked extensive but I just wanted an espresso martini. It was delicious and just the right pick-me-up for the night. I forgot to snap a photo of the receipt so it may have been anywhere from $15 to $3000.

Nowhere is a cavernous yet elegant space made cozy with smaller seating nooks in every corner. There’s a billiards table and live jazz nightly. I had a “Far East Cowboy” (I don’t remember what was in it, but with a name like that, I’d bet Suntory, $26). Afterward, I enjoyed a decidedly Western libation, Bud Light ($9).

At one point, I sat at a pai gow table with one other patron. We’d hardly chatted and I was just three hands in when he said, “You look like you’d enjoy Poodle Room.” I threw all caution to the wind, colored up, and joined as a guest of my new-found friend knowing that if he were a serial killer, at least I’d die having seen Poodle Room.

For the uninitiated, Poodle Room is a secret member’s only club that crowns the top of Fontainebleau. They don’t advertise it, it’s nowhere to be found on their website, and there’s no signage of it on property. Once off the elevator, you’re greeted with signs asking to refrain from photography—an emerging trend among bars and lounges—but up here, I got the impression the rule is less about developing intrigue and more about respecting patron privacy.

As you leave the elevator foyer, you’re overwhelmed by the view out the curved windows that cantilever over the rest of the tower. Enormous poodle statues stand among retro, fur-lined furniture. There’s a piano, an oval bar in the middle, a cigar lounge and, as if Poodle Room isn’t hard enough to get into, an additional speakeasy (Vegas die-hards will remember many years ago when Fontainebleau announced a “nesting bar”—a speakeasy within a speakeasy). There’s probably more but as a guest, I wasn’t going to abuse my welcome obnoxiously exploring every nook and cranny.

The service rivaled the incredible space. Despite my friend having only been once before, he was met with effusive handshakes and greeted by name from every person he came in contact with. And as he introduced me to a few people, somehow word got around the lounge of my name as well.

I never brought myself to ask how much membership was, but if I were a Vegas executive looking to entertain clients and had room in my taxes for the write-off, a Poodle Room membership would be high on my list.

Casino

All my action was at the pai gow table located off the pathway that runs from the guest elevators to Bleau Bar. This is the pit to play—amazing people-watching and excellent vibes all around. Table minimums were $25 most of the weekend increasing to $50 in the evenings, but I was able to get them lowered just by asking. Drink service was prompt and even as a loss-leading freebie, cocktails were still crafted with care. The muzak ran a random mix of 80s, 90s, and Sinatra classics. I would’ve preferred a more curated, cohesive soundtrack, but then again, I’m drawing comparisons to those unmatched, early years of Encore. If you know, you know.

I found comps more than generous. Since I wanted to try everything I possibly could in my short 48 hours in town, I played less than I typically do but felt I still received more than I deserved. Specifically, I averaged about $320 per hand and estimate that I played about six hours total, which for pai gow, is about three hands. As previously mentioned, I received one of their highest level standard rooms comped up front, another at a casino rate about 35% less than the lowest offer on Fontainebleau’s site, and they included VIP check in. Before check out, my incredible host removed $420 from the bill without my asking.

The atmosphere, service, and comps makes Fontainebleau my new favorite casino. And that’s a resounding endorsement considering how awful I did at the tables.

The Pool

The Oasis pool deck is on its own floor right off the guest elevators. We had no problem finding three neighboring seats at the main pool on a sunny, 90 degree weekend afternoon. They have the expected mix of daybeds and cabanas at a reservation cost (not a food and beverage minimum, unfortunately), but the semi-immersed lounge seats are free for the taking. The pool deck, at least during this weekend, didn’t have its own soundtrack and pumped LIV Beach DJ oontz all day; not conducive to relaxing.

The La Concha Motel-inspired Bleau Isle bar is a central focal point and by far the busiest. While it’s a great area to hang out and people-watch, you’ll get faster service from any of the other three bars.

Surrounding the main area are three satellite pools: Gigi’s, La Mer, and Legacy. Gigi’s is on the southern-most end. Described as Moroccan-style, the cabanas are carved out of faux rock formations and the small pool is heated to sub-hot tub temperatures. Save a few loungers, the entire deck is reservation seating only. It sat virtually empty all day. I predict if Fontainebleau ever explored an adults only, potentially topless concept, they’d do it here. La Mer is on the eastern-most end past small areas of cornhole and life-sized chess. It’s also where you’ll find the only hot tub. There’s nothing particularly redeeming about this spot. It also sat virtually empty all day. Finally, on the northern-most end is Legacy. They advertise butler service with each cabana but I never saw white-gloved Englishmen walking around. It’s the nicest, most secluded spot on the deck. As you may have already guessed, it too sat virtually empty all day.

If seclusion is what you’re looking for, any one of these satellite pools will do. That said, I think most would prefer the lively atmosphere of the main pool.

Service

Service was exceptional. I know it’s common practice for resorts to over-staff when first opening but I hope Fontainebleau continues this way; it was refreshing to see nearly every cashier window and every front desk terminal open and ready to help. Beyond a very brief line at the Bleau Rewards desk (and that was simply a result of their current status match promotion), I never waited in another queue.

I got the impression they’re a little overwhelmed with the masses of Gold and Royal statuses entering their systems and, as a Gold card holder, anticipated having to ask for a refund on the resort and valet fees; indeed, it wasn’t automatic but was rectified within seconds.

As a luxury hotel hobbyist, I found some hairline cracks in the service that once filled, will give people the same warm fuzzies they get when staying at Wynn. A few examples…

There’s a fine line between giving directions and walking a guest to their desired destination. I’m convinced somewhere in Wynn Resorts’s training, there’s protocol that states if directions require a turn, the employee must, within reason, walk the guest to their destination. On a few occasions at Fontainebleau, I was given verbal directions before the employee paused and said something to the extent of, “Never mind, please allow me to walk you there.” Again, I appreciate the gesture, but the warm Wynn fuzzies come when this overly-helpful action is instantly offered.

When arriving via a house car, drivers always call ahead so that bellhops are prepared, walk with guests into VIP, and wait with luggage as they check in. This typically isn’t possible when driving in so VIP agents ask if you have a luggage claim ticket and call ahead for you. Usually, this puts your delivery front-of-line. Our agent didn’t offer to call as rooms were being finalized. This wasn’t something she forgot; I got the impression Fontainebleau never considered this in their training for drive-in guests. Again, it’s not me feeling entitled so much as it’s something Wynn Tower Suites does, Bellagio VIP does, and I think Fontainebleau’s got the facilities to rival and, dare I say, surpass its competitors once these are ironed out.

Miscellanea

It’s easy to step into Fontainebleau and declare it’s dead while neglecting the fact that the casino is about 50% larger than most. That said, on this particular event-free weekend, I never gambled alone, most restaurants were absolutely packed, and finding bar top seating at Bleau Bar and Collins wasn’t exactly instantaneous. My host was exceptional, but I never got to meet him because he was frequently stuck in private gaming rooms upstairs. Yes, you can look at mobs of people in Bellagio’s conservatory and draw doomsday comparisons for Fontainebleau’s future, but everyone under Fontainebleau’s roof was there with the intention of spending money.

I’d read reports of difficult wayfinding and admittedly, felt a little lost when I briefly passed through shortly after opening. That said, you quickly realize that if you center yourself at Bleau Bar, you can get a visual of nearly everywhere you want to be on the floor; it’s actually a pretty easy casino to navigate.

I had inquired about Fleur de Lis—the hotel-within-hotel on the top five floors—a few months back and felt their suites were over-priced. Now having experienced the resort, I’m not so sure. Midweek rates in the low-$1000s isn’t out of line, especially after learning on my last day that they include access to Poodle Room.

There’s no denying Fontainebleau’s awful location, but for a Vegas veteran unamused by fountains and gondolas, it’s perfect. My long-time Vegas fanatic friend Hunter once described me as a Howard Hughes type, locking myself in and never leaving my home casino. For that type of guest, I can’t think of a better resort.

Conclusion

In the early years of Wynn, I’d regularly score Salon Suites for $450 or Fairway Villas for $750. I’d get meals comped at my $60 average bet. And this was pre-great recession. I’d come home and rave about the experience to deaf ears; nobody knew what Wynn was and when I tried to explain, they instantly dismissed the property after learning about its north Strip location. And now you’d be lucky to get a standard room there for under $600 on a weekend.

History is repeating itself. Almost two decades later, the parallels are hard to ignore; Fontainebleau is under-priced, over-comping, and rivals the best the city has to offer.

Seize the opportunity.