Best Of :: Food & Drink
The muscled truckers, old-timers and twenty-somethings who flock to Red Rooster know that this modest cafe has something to crow about: ridiculously cheap steaks. The all-around winner is a cooked-to-temp fourteen-ounce T-bone, roughly the size of a St. Bernard's face, which rings in at $13.95. And that's just the warmup: That plate also includes two eggs; your choice of regular toast, pancakes, a housemade biscuit with gravy or Texas toast; and a freakishly large mound of golden hash browns. A Greek owner cuts the steer in-house, and he clearly believes in super abundance — and super deals.
It's good to be king. It's even better to be at Breakfast King when everyone else is asleep and you're looking for a home away from home, a home where the friendly, wisecracking servers know not just your name, but your regular order. That's likely to be chicken-fried steak smothered in country gravy — the best chicken-fried steak in the city at any time of the day — sided with endless cups of coffee. But the kitchen is cooking up that huge menu at all hours, so you can also get eggs any way imaginable, comfort-food dinners, or just a big slice of pie to soak up some of the coffee. No matter what you order, it will be a feast fit for a king.
People love chicken. People love waffles. Why, then, is chicken and waffles so polarizing, one of those dishes you either love or hate? At Session Kitchen, chef Scott Parker has created a version so good, and yet so different, we can all agree to like it. Called "chicken-liver mousse," his alternative is every bit as rich as the original, yet it comes off much lighter and more contemporary, a perfect fit for the dynamic street art and murals inside the stunning two-level space. Rather than fried chicken, Parker offers a jar of chicken-liver mousse accented with a dollop of seasonal, housemade jam. Sharing the plate are airy, crisp Belgian waffles, scented with orange and made from almond flour. The combination of smooth, earthy mousse, sweet jam and waffle is not a traditional chicken and waffles, but no one's quibbling when it tastes this good.
At a time when nearly anything can be eaten at the bar, it's hard to say just what counts as bar snacks. Is it a small plate of rillette on toast? Wings? Housemade trail mix? Yes to all. But when you want a classic snack, something with crunch and salt to nibble while unwinding from the day over a drink, nothing beats the mariquitas Cubana at Cuba Cuba. With a hint of sweetness and none of the oily residue of freshly fried potato chips, these long, thin strips of fried green plantains are just what you want with your coconut mojito. Although also available at the Sandwicherias in Boulder and Glendale, they're at their best at the flagship, full-service restaurant, where they're paired not just with garlicky mojo, but with mango-habanero mojo and guacamole. The platter is large enough for everyone to have some, but not so big that it will ruin the very good dinner to come.
The best just got better last year, when Boney's Smokehouse — Lamont and Trina Lynch's downtown, down-home restaurant — moved into a bigger space just a few doors away. Tucked in the basement, the new Boney's can be hard to find, but it's definitely worth the search...and some advance planning, since the hours are limited. But there's no limit to the load of barbecue you'll want to order — brisket, chopped chicken, pulled pork, hot links and ribs that have so much flavor from their dry rub and long tenure over low heat that they don't need sauce. Still, you won't want to miss the three versions at Boney's: a tangy basic sauce also offered hot, a sweet jalapeño and an excellent, mustardy gold. And give Boney's extra points for sides ranging from great collard greens and barbecue beans to lip-smacking mac and cheese. Lamont, a native of Florida, has spent years giving a Southern tweak to a repertoire of family recipes imported from the Bahamas; as a result, this barbecue defies categorization. Just call it the best.
"I think I love you," swooned the woman at the bar, her proclamation intended for the bartender who'd just slid a textbook-perfect Manhattan under her nose. Marcel Templet, the veteran who's been behind the booze at Capital Grille for ten years, is an everyman's bartender, an effortlessly affable guy who's mastered the art of greeting every stain of lipstick and every tint of tie by name while simultaneously commiserating with a just-dumped barfly, announcing game scores, juggling four liquor bottles and reciting the backstory of every spirit he pours. And he does all of it with genuine authenticity and an easy smile. You can teach almost anyone how to make a good cocktail, but it's the personality of the bartender that defines the personality of the bar, and Templet, whose showmanship hits all the right notes, leaves a lovely lasting impression.