Alright, folks, if you’re heading to Vegas for the buffets, brace yourselves—because one of the Strip’s most beloved all-you-can-eat icons is about to serve its “last” scoop of scrambled eggs and baked beans.
Yep. The buffet at the Luxor Hotel and Casino, that massive black pyramid you can spot from the plane, is closing for good “this” Sunday. So if your Vegas tradition includes piling your plate under the watchful gaze of a wall-mounted sphinx, you’ve got about 48 hours to say goodbye.
Now, if you’ve never been, let me paint the picture for you: Imagine walking into a giant Egyptian-themed dining hall where brunch dreams come true. We’re talking “everything”—bacon, omelets, pastries, fruit towers, the works—and all for just $31.99 (or $26.99 if you’re a Nevada local).
And if you were lucky (or unlucky?) enough to lose some money on the casino floor, there was a good chance your comped buffet brunch was just around the corner. A silver lining, if you will.
But here’s the kicker: buffets, while beloved, are kind of financial sinkholes. They don’t really rake in the cash—especially now, with inflation and tighter wallets everywhere. Vegas is pivoting. Restaurants with higher margins are moving in. Fine dining is king. And buffets? They’re starting to look like relics of the past.
With Luxor pulling the plug, that leaves only “seven” casino buffets still standing on the Strip: Bacchanal at Caesars Palace, Buffet at Wynn, Wicked Spoon at the Cosmo, Bellagio, MGM Grand, Circus Circus, and Excalibur. It’s a far cry from the buffet boom Vegas was once known for.
And it’s not just the Luxor buffet disappearing. The Strip is changing—fast. The Mirage is gone. Jersey Boys is gone. The Caesar’s Palace rotunda is about to be demolished.
Even Whiskey Pete’s out in Primm is shuttered, and people are worried it might never come back. These aren’t just closures—they’re cultural gut punches for long-time Vegas fans.
Look, Vegas will always evolve. That’s part of its mystique. But for those of us who remember nursing hangovers under heat lamps with bottomless coffee and mounds of French toast at a casino buffet, this one hurts a little more than usual.
So if you’re in town and hungry for some nostalgia (and maybe one last bite of Luxor’s legendary brunch spread), this weekend’s your final shot. Go big. Load up. And tip your server like it’s 1999.
