Then my day came. I'd already been out for a working lunch, out for drinks, then out for more drinks. Stopping in at the office, I got word that the James Beard Foundation had announced its semi-finalists for the restaurant and chef awards, and that Bonanno was on the list. The announcement had come that day; I knew there was no way in hell he'd be at Bones that night. He'd be out celebrating or something, making it a light night, maybe only dropping in at three of his four restaurants, whatever. I had my window. And since I knew I'd better wait a bit before trying to thread my way home through the cops and traffic anyway, I figured I'd sober up over some noodles. Just a quick snack. I called Nancy.
Two hours later, we staggered out of Bones after having eaten nearly everything the crew could throw at us. And it had all been amazing. We'd eaten pillowy, perfectly textured steamed buns folded like marshmallow tacos around a filling of either roasted suckling pig or delicious pork belly, both varieties topped with nothing more than a touch of hoisin glaze, a delicate fall of green onion. We'd eaten marrow, scraping it out of the hollows of big beef bones with special marrow spoons and spreading it on toasted bread, scouring the big knots of bone clean and then kinda wanting to chew them like dogs. We'd had the cod, tempura-fried, and dumplings with coconut-milk sauce that were a little stiff, a little chewy. But these were followed by noodles so good it was like they were spiked with a soupçon of sodium pentothal, enough to make you forget everything bad that had ever happened in your entire life and focus you fully on the beauty of this one, pure moment.
Chef/owner Frank Bonanno is hands-on at Bones.
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Bones
Steamed buns $9
Bone marrow $10
Dumplings $9
Ramen $16
Udon $11
Soba $9
701 Grant Street
303-860-2929
Hours: lunch Monday-Friday, dinner nightly
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I've been to Bones three times now. On each visit, someone in my party has had the lobster ramen with edamame and miso broth. Their descriptions of that broth have been priceless. Nancy loudly informed me (and everyone else sitting in the small, twenty-seat dining room) that she wanted to go home and bathe in the broth, it was so good. Joel wanted to fill a camel pack with it so he could walk around all day taking sips of the broth, knowing full well that on a hot day it would probably kill him and being completely okay with that. The broth is actually less a broth than a perfectly mounted sauce, pale gold, poured from a decanter over the ramen noodles and poached lobster and edamame already in the bowl. It's silky and smooth and rich as Croesus, with a depth of flavor that makes me want to dive straight in and never come up. Bonanno is a whiz with lobster no matter what he's doing with it, so the lobster in the ramen bowl (big chunks of tail and claw meat) is always immaculately poached and lovely. The edamame adds a nice textural counterpoint, and the noodles (slightly undercooked once, perfect twice) are excellent. But the broth is what everyone remembers. That broth is one of the best things I've ever tasted.
Amazingly, the udon with roasted, shredded pork and a single poached egg bleeding yolk into the broth is almost as good. And while the cold soba with monster prawns and peanuts and vinegar-sharp dressing one night, with lamb and curry and almonds another, isn't in quite the same league, it's still the best buckwheat noodles I've had anywhere in this city.
So while Bonanno deliberately set out not to create a profitable restaurant, not to create an Asian restaurant, not to create anything but a fun little neighborhood noodle joint that might please a bunch of pleasure-seeking cooks and chefs and a few of the more adventurous gastronauts in the city — a restaurant that would be fun for him and those like him — what he actually created is a wildly successful Asian-American restaurant that's fun for just about everyone who steps through the door.
The man who was already running three of the best restaurants in the city now runs a fourth. But as I waddled back out into the cold after that first, best meal at Bones, drunk now only on food, all I knew was that I was lucky to have finally gotten to taste it for myself.