The last two times I have been to TAG I have been treated horribly by the front of the house. The food is okay, but not enough to make up for it.
By Jamie Swinnerton
By Mark Antonation
By Lori Midson
By Jonathan Shikes
By Amber Taufen
By Cafe Society
By Juliet Wittman
By Jonathan Shikes
While we watch Freund roll our sushi, we shower him with questions about this fantastic dish — until he finally ends the interrogation by putting a plate in front of us. For the Bulldog roll, kimchi and apple give a sweet, earthy heat to more hiramasa and crisp cucumber wrapped in seaweed and rice. More spicy still is the Los Chingones roll, with bits of jalapeño and fiery aioli playing off buttery avocado and chopped ahi tuna; a couple of leaves of micro shiso top each slice, giving each bite a palate-cleansing, almost minty kick — without adding the leathery texture of the leaves of the larger plant.
Our next courses are even more heated. The first is lamb loin, pounded thin, torched medium-rare and plated with a bouquet of mustardy mizuna, a dusting of crispy, gray sunchoke chips and a breath of pecorino. For the tataki, more loin — kangaroo this time — is torched, then rolled and placed in pools of fresh arugula pesto, dotted with finely chopped tomatoes and overlaid with a crouton for crunch.
The feast ends with a single strawberry, but not a simple one. Freund has carved out the center and filled it with rhubarb compote, then dipped the fruit in chocolate. The dessert captures the taste of this changing season, pitting bitter and sour elements against sweet. It's an end that leaves us completely satisfied but not utterly stuffed.
Revitalized, we head up the stairs and join the after-dinner crowd spilling out of upscale restaurants manned by iconic chefs on a legendary Denver street, the sound of Gaga swallowed up by the chattering masses.