Food & Drink

Start spreading the news: Thanks to Deli Tech, Denverites can finally take a real bite of the Big Apple. Finally, pastrami on rye we can really sink our teeth into. Finally, latkes that are light and crunchy. Finally, borscht that can’t be beet. Brought to us by two former New Yorkers (and longtime Coloradans), Fred Anzman and Barbara Simon-Anzman, Deli Tech is a black-and-white delight reminiscent of the glorious delis of the East Coast, where egg creams rule and stuffed cabbage is a gourmet treat. Finally, we’re chopped liver — and we’re loving it.

Okay, we know a teahouse may not be the first location that pops into your mind when you’re in a romantic mood. But Dushanbe isn’t your typical teahouse. A gift of the mayor of Dushanbe, Boulder’s sister city in Tajikistan, the elaborately decorated building is breathtaking, a work of art featuring hand-carved and hand-painted ceiling tiles, tables, stools and columns, all of which combine to create an exotic getaway the second you walk through the intricately decorated doors. The menu offers exotic mysteries to match, a collection of sumptuous, sensuous foods from faraway lands: African plantain fritters, Puerto Rican chicken adobo, wild-mushroom risotto. To ensure that sparks fly, ask for a tucked-away floor table, where you and your date can sit on plush pillows, sip steamy jasmine-scented tea, listen to a nearby fountain dribbling water and discuss international affairs…if you know what we mean. See? We told you so.

Mein Gott, we thought Sacre Bleu was a goner. But then owner Julie Payne wisely gave it up, and her ex-husband, Michael Payne, stepped in to try to sort things out. Lo and behold, he succeeded in doing just that, bringing in a savvy staff — including chef Hamilton Cowie — and toning down the attitude a bit, so that diners can count on professional service, reasonable prices and stunningly flavored food. Bar-hoppers still nestle in the groovy bar area, but a fun bar menu means that they’re more likely to graze than score. More serious foodies can settle down in the plush dining room and gorge themselves on foie gras, sunchoke tarts, stuffed duck breast with a dried-cherry bread pudding, and a molten chocolate cake that’s to die for. Thank God.

You say New American, I say contemporary American, he says fusion. Whatever. In recent years, Potager has come into its own as a consistently exciting restaurant that almost defies definition, using ingredients from all over the world to create interesting, enticing dishes. From appetizers of Berkshire blue-cheese ravioli over arugula and updated crab Louie to oven-roasted saddle of rabbit with caramelized fennel and pan-roasted monkfish with braised oxtail, chef/owner Teri Basoli creates meals with flair. The wine list pulls from all over, too, and the bustling atmosphere makes diners feel they’re somewhere special. Oh, say, can you see what a wonderful restaurant this is?

When it comes to authentic New Mexican food, Julia Blackbird’s flies right. The vibrantly colored, busy cafe is the ideal setting for chef/owner Julia Siegfried-Garrison’s flamboyant flavors and bold ingredient combinations. The Chimayo chiles stuffed with goat cheese and dusted with blue-corn meal make for chiles rellenos that are out of this world. Closer to home, go straight to Taos with the flash-fried, blue-corn tacos, filled with chicken or beef and a sharp pico, or swing through Navajo country with a bowl of hearty stew chock-full of posole, beans, corn and potatoes, with goat cheese for added zing. Since there’s no liquor license here, the strawberry lemonade is the drink of choice.

As Latin-food lovers race to the new South American spots cropping up across town like plantains in a tropical heat wave, savvy south-of-the-border aficionados continue to savor the culinary carnaval that is Café Brazil. The only thing zestier than the colorful decor in this tiny, fascinating space is the food, from the fab fejoida (Brazil’s national dish) to the particularly luscious flan. Entrees are substantial and always surrounded by rice, steamed vegetables and fresh fruit; if that’s not enough food, moist banana bread and savory cheese buns come with the meal, and the spicy black-bean soup and killer calamari appetizers make nice add-ons. The close quarters make the dining room as intimate or as raucous as you’d like, but be sure to make reservations — Denver loves this Latin a lot.

Get your mojo working at Cuba Cuba, Denver’s first totally Cuban restaurant. Owners Kristy Socarras Bigelow, her husband, Brian Bigelow, and her brother, Enrique Socarras, have turned two side-by-side, pre-1880 dwellings in the Golden Triangle into party central, with one house looking like a casual, convivial replica of the Casablanca set, complete with palm-frond fans and a bright, open-air feel, and the other transformed into a bongo-lined bar. The drink of choice is a mojito, made from rum, fresh mint leaves, a splash of lime and plenty of sugar, and the recipes — from Enrique (the siblings are Cuban) — focus on the breezier, fruit-focused foods of Cuba. Have fun with the plantain chips and shrimp appetizers, but save room for the sugary tres leches at dessert.

Chef Duy Van Pham may be Vietnamese, but his food couldn’t be more French if he were cooking at Le Cordon Bleu. Pham has settled in at Tante Louise very nicely, helping the old aunt preserve her thirty-year-old reputation for serving the best French food in town. From the charcuterie plate to the fruit tarts, a meal at the AAA four-diamond and Mobil four-star Tante Louise includes everything from haute to not, with a bit of American and Asian whimsy thrown in for good measure. Try the délices françaises of garlic confit white-bean soup, lobster mashed potatoes and foie-gras-stuffed tenderloin, and don’t be afraid to ask sommelier Emma Healion for a wine recommendation from her 600-bottle roster. Enjoy your meal in the romantic, elegant atmosphere of a French country inn just minutes from downtown.

Italian food is more than spaghetti and meatballs. A lot more. And Panzano, which is named for a small wine town in Chianti, proves it with inspired, well-executed dishes that evoke what you might find at the finest inns of Tuscany. Panzano is lucky to have chef Jennifer Jasinski do the translating: She relies on bold flavors, rich sauces and just the right touch with herbs to create such elaborate dishes as mezzaluna pasta stuffed with roasted Kabocha squash, mascarpone, three-nut brown butter, Amaretti di Saronno cookies, Parmigiano-Reggiano and fried sage. If that doesn’t grab you, how about chicken breast rolotini with currants, pine nuts, pancetta and Parmigiano, accompanied by a salad of grilled figs, pecorino and arugula? Match the culinary masterpieces with one of Panzano’s well-chosen Italian wines, and you have a meal that isn’t just Italian — it’s delicious.

The name, which refers to a Japanese green, is your first clue that Mizuna is all over the map, pulling from international flavors and ingredients to make dishes so stunning, they’re over the top. Still, most of the items at this charismatic bistro are inspired by the New American sensibilities of California cuisine, with a heavy reliance on Mediterranean components to pull everything together. The hallmark of chef/part owner Frank Bonanno’s cooking is fresh ingredients, with plenty of butter and cream to carry the flavors; dishes such as crème-fraîche-bolstered mashed potatoes and lobster-enriched macaroni and cheese are perfect examples of this philosophy. Bonanno’s partner, host-with-the-most Doug Fleisch-mann, manages to keep the needy audience pampered and entertained while diners wait for the next delectable dish to come out of the kitchen.

The laid-back Ali Baba Grill cooks up the usual Middle Eastern favorites, but the difference here is that these dishes are absolutely packed with flavor. Creamy, smooth hummus carries a fresh lemon-juice-and-garlic punch, and the baba ghanouj contains eggplant that’s been roasted until it’s nearly caramelized, so that the dip has a deep, sweet quality. The just-made tabbouleh is always tip-top fresh; the kabobs are charbroiled, giving the meats that crunchy edge of extra flavor; and the chicken shawarma is coated in a garlic paste before it’s rotisserie-broiled. Save room for dessert: The housemade baklava and a cup of freshly brewed mint tea make for a relaxing finale.

You won’t miss meat at Masalaa, an all-vegetarian Indian eatery, because everything is so well seasoned that there’s no shortage of flavor. In fact, the name Masalaa means “spice” in Hindu. The kitchen specializes in southern Indian dishes that you rarely find in Denver, as well as superior versions of traditional favorites from all over the South Asian subcontinent. Masalaa spices up such standards as mulligatawny soup, samosas, curries and saag, and makes dosas — crêpes of rice and lentil flour — that are just right for soaking up its fiery mango chutney. Masalaa’s most interesting offerings, though, are the idlys, especially the miniature versions that look like little flying saucers made from rice, and the uthapams, bubbly breads topped with fresh vegetables or cheese. Both come with Masalaa’s superior sambar (a stew made from several types of dal, or legumes, cooked down with many spices). The servers are ready to explain the unfamiliar items that abound at this restaurant, and they are as gracious and welcoming as a warm cup of chai.

Owner Sue Smith goes above and beyond at her simple but spiffy Asian restaurant in the ‘burbs. In dishes such as lobster and crab pot stickers and Vietnamese seafood paella, New Orient presents the flavors of Vietnam in a fresh and innovative way. Don’t expect noodle-house prices: The macadamia-sesame-encrusted walleye or two-mushroom beef tenderloin will set you back a bit. But you won’t find these preparations on any other Vietnamese menu in town.

When we want to Thai one on, we head to Thai Bistro. The dining room is sweet and simple, with greenery for color and just a few Thai touches here and there — but in the kitchen, it’s all Thai, all the time. Chef/owner Lek Phromthong knows his way around sweet-salty-sour-spicy, and he balances those elements to good effect in his multi-layered, deeply flavored dishes. The appetizers, including sumptuous steamed dumplings and deep-fried tofu, are admirable, and the main courses, particularly the curries, are truly a main event. Those curries are heavily, and deliciously, sweetened with coconut milk; Phromthong also has a way with fenugreek, which gives his curries an even more exotic taste. Tell the servers your tolerance for chile heat — they’re happy to adjust dishes to match.

Little Ollie’s woks the walk. The kitchen produces dishes that are incredibly polished, not to mention filled with the best Chinese cooking in town. The steamed fish, stir-fries, sweet spare ribs and black-bean sauces evoke the streets of Hong Kong, but the delivery there surely leaves something to be desired when compared with the gracious, efficient service at Little Ollie’s. The wine list is startlingly well chosen for a Chinese restaurant, too.

A visit to Domo has become a cultural tour of Japan, complete with a Zen garden, an intriguing museum, a jumping sake lounge, an appealing dining room and, now, an extensive sushi selection. Still, chef/owner Gaku Homma continues to focus on creating the most healthful, authentic versions of provincial Japanese foods — yakimono, tojimono, curry, udon — along with saishoku vegetarian items and Wankosushi, Homma’s trademarked take on the country-style sushi of his childhood. Arigato, Domo.

At Fontana Sushi, it seems like almost every hour is happy hour, since the $1 sushi special runs from 6 to 10 p.m. weekdays and 7 p.m. to midnight on weekends. The low price doesn’t mean low quality, though, and while the sushi chefs can be a little slow, and the sushi isn’t always flawlessly assembled, it’s unfailingly fresh and flavorful. Put your money where your mouth is at Fontana.

Fujiyama owner Denny Kang thinks big is better, and he proves it by offering sushi that’s much larger than you get at other sushi bars for the same price — and just as tasty. Enjoy your fish while sitting at the red-topped sushi bar decorated with cute little aquariums, right near a massive, lavender-hued mural of the Japanese mountain that the eatery’s named for. A meal here isn’t quite as massive as Mount Fuji, but it’s a culinary high point nonetheless.

This hip, Hapa-ning chain now has three links (two in Boulder), but we like Hapa’s Cherry Creek sushi bar best. The sushi is always super-fresh, interesting and well executed, offered in cutting-edge combinations that might sound silly but actually work. For starters, there’s the “multiple orgasm,” a tempura-battered sushi roll filled with cream cheese, crab and smoked salmon, all fried and then smothered in a gooey white sauce. Since they have to serve dishes like that, it’s no wonder the sushi chefs are entertaining and friendly, ready to crack a joke or make conversation with the customers (unlike so many knife-wielding crankypants we run into at other places). But Hapa’s real selling point is the scene, which is just plain fun: calm and relaxing at lunch, loud and raucous at dinner, with an L-shaped bar that makes for convenient people-watching.

Roy’s, which came to Cherry Creek by way of Hawaii, is once again the catch of the year for its fresh, well-prepared seafood. We’re always reeled in by the menu’s interesting combinations, including cassoulet made from sea scallops and filet mignon, and broadbill swordfish dusted and pan-fried with mochiko, a rice flour. This classy, elegant restaurant isn’t afraid to offer seafood that landlocked Denver doesn’t often see, such as butterfish (known as Pacific pompano or sablefish); the kitchen’s also adept at turning the tried and true into something new, too, topping Chilean sea bass with grilled eel, for example. Get the net: We’re keeping this one.

Fishing for an interesting dinner? Head to any Whole Foods markets and have a chat with the knowledgeable staffers in the seafood section. They’ll point out a tip-top fresh specimen, perfectly cut, from their dizzying array and then tell you ten different ways to prepare it, along with what other fish might work just as well in the same dish. On any given day, Whole Foods is swimming in the town’s biggest variety of sea creatures, and employees can give you the 411 on any one of them: where it came from, what it ate, how long it’ll keep and what it tastes like. The seafood section also has a tempting array of ready-made delicacies, including a fabulous calamari salad and party-worthy dips and spreads. And for those who like it raw, the sushi-grade octopus, eel, salmon and tuna are a cut above anyone else’s.

Midopa is an excellent Asian market specializing in Korean and Japanese ingredients, with a killer housemade kim chee and inexpensive, fresh sushi sitting in a case near the front counter. But Midopa also stocks the best selection of hard-to-find animal parts we’ve ever seen. Necks, backs, feet, knees and other odds and ends from a variety of critters are available at all times, just begging to be plopped into a stock for Vietnamese pho or wrapped in rice paper and fried. No one at Midopa speaks much English, so it pays to know your parts — because when it comes to cooking, parts isn’t parts.

Want a guy who knows his pesto from his prosciutto? Need a vegetarian woman? Head straight to Tony’s, the best meat/meet market in town, a mecca for the lonely looking for a date (or at least dinner). Every weekend, singles converge around the ready-made soups and pasta sauces in the frozen-foods section of this massive gourmet grocery store, checking out both the culinary and cuddling options. At Tony’s, it’s much easier to narrow down your choices than it is in a bar: You know he likes to cook if his cart is full of spices from the extensive selection here, and you know she’s a morning person if hers has plenty of upscale jams and fresh-baked pastries. Sidle up to a cutie by the free samples and ask for her number; if it’s a go, you can always pick out dinner together.

Fred Deligio is the quintessential neighborhood butcher, a guy who really cares about his customers, always remembering how you like your steaks cut and when you need pork butt instead of loin. At Fred’s Fine Meats, he brings in Choice-grade meat and ages it for three weeks himself; he also makes his own Italian and German sausages and bratwurst. Need a specialty sausage? Give Fred the recipe and he’ll custom-stuff it to your specs — and it will taste just like what your Polish grandma used to turn out. Fred’s chickens come from Red Bird Farms (he’ll cook them rotisserie-style for you), and he also offers only American lamb — none of that frozen stuff from New Zealand — and Boar’s Head deli meats. Need elk, buffalo or duck liver? He can get it. And at the end of every transaction, Fred always says, “You take care.” We will, because he does.

Good things come in small packages, and European Mart proves it. This tiny store is crammed with smoked fish and sauerkraut, kasha and Danish cheeses, even Swiss specialties and Hungarian tidbits tracked down by owner Dmitry Gershengorin — and the deli case is full of imported meats, pretty cakes and other baked items. Because Glendale boasts a sizable Russian population, the Mart also stocks Moscow’s newspapers and Russian dolls. Caviar fans should ask if there’s any on hand: Gershengorin often has the best price on fish eggs in town.

Walking into Vinnola’s Market is like traveling back in time to an East Coast-style deli of decades past. Everyone’s friendly and yelling and laughing; deli workers are passing slices of cheese and salami over the counter for inspection by little old blue-haired Italian ladies. Those goods always pass muster: The smallish market carries all of the important imported meats and cheeses — Asiago and mortadella, mozzarella and prosciutto — as well as olive oil and balsamico, fresh-baked Italian bread and cookies, and fresh and dried pasta. Stop by at lunchtime, and one of Vinnola’s overstuffed sandwiches will see you through the rest of your shopping.

If you can’t find an Asian ingredient at the Asian Supermarket, that ingredient simply doesn’t exist. This vast warehouse of a grocery store stocks forty kinds of rice noodles alone, all haphazardly jammed into one aisle. Unfamiliar cans of squishy-looking ingredients share space with forty-pound bags of rice and twenty brands of coconut milk. Several aisles are devoted to plastic and ceramic dishes, woks, utensils, chopsticks and steamers, all at bargain prices. The produce is well-priced, too, especially limes, Asian basil, daikon and ginger, and the dried-mushroom section is a delight for fungi fans. Don’t forget to stop by the meat counter, which displays an impressive selection of fresh fish and meats.

Shopping at Arash Supermarket is like going on a treasure hunt: You never know what you’ll find tucked away in some corner. The bustling store is bursting with Middle Eastern items, from locally baked pitas the size of pizzas to imported and domestic feta to many types of tahini to real basmati rice. Produce here is much cheaper than at the big chain grocery stores — lemons and limes, lettuce and tomatoes are noteworthy bargains — as are kalamatas, yogurt drinks, pickles and olive oil. A few non-Middle Eastern ingredients, including Mexican crema and Italian lunchmeats, are also on hand. Check out the unique, commercially baked goods on the shelves near the cashiers: The exotic little cookies and unusual sweets are special treats for kids.

Have a hankering to imitate some of Café Brazil’s dishes in your own kitchen? You’ll quickly realize that many of the required ingredients — from the elusive dendê, the lighthearted palm oil that lends its warm orange color and irreplaceable zesty tropical flavor to Brazilian seafood dishes, to farinha de manioca, the ground manioc meal that, toasted, becomes the essential table condiment farofa — are harder to find than a table at the restaurant on a Saturday night. Thanks to Emporio Minas, though, there’s no reason to cut your samba short. This hole-in-the-wall market, three little rooms with metal shelving that could well be found in a São Paulo garage, has all that stuff and more: coconut milk, sticky-sweet dulce de leche; the Portuguese sausages, salt-cured beef and carioca beans called for in classic feijoada; guava paste and pickled malagueta peppers, not to mention maté drinks, olives, cookies, chocolate and even nail polish. Oh, yeah, there’s something else you can count on finding: every homesick Brazilian east of the Continental Divide.

For nearly twenty years, Tajmahal Imports has been one-stop shopping for Aurora’s large population of Indian and Pakistani natives. Don’t expect a re-creation of the famous palace, though: This jam-packed store is a tidy dive offering a mix of commercial, bulk and pre-packaged, ready-to-eat foods. You can create an entire Indian meal from these goods: dozens of types of dal, refrigerated chapati and naan, imported whole and ground spices and special flours, chutneys and snacks. Tajmahal also sells fascinating homemade desserts, and its extensive Indian tea selection is priced much better than the same leaves at specialty shops.

The sign behind the counter of colorful goodies at Panadería & Pastelería Santa Fe reads “Bienvenido a su panadería,” and patrons are made to feel welcome, indeed. Baker/owner Juan Acua always has an extra minute to explain his intricate pastries — sugar-coated conchas, ear-shaped orejas, lemon-flavored flautas, empanadas, cream-stuffed horns — or discuss in depth the spices he carries, many of which have medicinal properties. A refrigerator case holds other Mexican specialties, including crema and homemade chorizo. And for a really sweet deal, pick up one of Acua’s tres leches cakes, the most toothsome in town.

Jack Martinez, owner of Jack-n-Grill, used to sell roasted chiles from Socorro, New Mexico, on Federal Boulevard, so he knows his chile. To make red chile, he takes a variety of the New Mexican pods and purées them into a deep, rich, rojo sauce that carries the sun-kissed flavors of the earth they were grown in. Try it smothering Jack-n-Grill’s cheesy, lasagne-style enchiladas, and you’ll be seeing red, all right.

In Mexico, chile verde is actually green — not red, not orange, not gray — which helps explain its name. Since most Denver-born green chiles include tomatoes, some Mexicans — Guanajuatan transplants Paola and Sergio Hernandez among them — think it should rightly be called red. The Hernandezes can call the green chile they make at Pique, their teeny little strip-mall spot, whatever they want; I call it delicious. Packed with tomatillos and jalapeos and a little pork for extra flavor, this brew is a thin, flavor-packed, truly green-colored chile that begs to soak into a tortilla. One taste, and other Mexican joints will be green with envy.

When this family-run restaurant first opened on South Quebec, it was very small and had no liquor license. In its new digs, La Cocina de Marcos not only has room to move, but it also serves beer and wine — all the better for washing down the well-executed, flavorful Mexican fare made from scratch. Everything is good here: Try the chiles rellenos, the refried beans cooked down with onions and the nicely grilled carne asada. It’s all even better when smothered in the great green chile, a clean-tasting mixture that’s light on grease and sweeter than most versions, with a faint chile bite and tiny bits of tomato. While the red is tasty, too, the green is downright mean.

Inside this unassuming but very brightly painted, salmon-toned building, the Sierra family makes fabulous Mexican food. The pork carnitas are melt-in-your-mouth delicious, and the guacamole is always freshly mashed. But the real draw at this colorful spot is the crispy chile relleno, a long poblano filled with Jack cheese and wrapped in a won ton wrapper, then deep-fried until the exterior becomes a crunchy shell. What takes Mi Cocina’s relleno over the top is the topping of green chile, a medium-thick, mildly hot concoction that coats every bite. Mi Cocina is our cocina.

Take one fire-roasted poblano chile, jam it with Monterey Jack cheese, drop it into a bowl of eggy batter and then fry the heck out of it on the grill until the exterior forms a thin, crackly crust and the cheese just starts to peek out. Delicious as the final result will be, it will only hint at the delights of Taquería Patzcuaro’s perfect chile relleno — soft but not soggy, cheesy but not cloggy. Order two for an ideal meal, and wash them down with one of Taquería’s luscious licuados.

You don’t expect to find decent Mexican fare, much less great Mexican, at a busy Littleton strip mall. But at El Lucero, a small but buzzing joint where the specials of the day are illegible on the dry-erase board and few of the employees speak English, the food needs no translation. In any language, your best bet is the tacos al carbón, three soft tacos filled with beef so soft and salty it’s like eating buttery popcorn. Fresh pico de gallo comes with the tacos, and its sharp jalapeo bite is just right to play off the meat. For some added oomph, order a side of the green chile, and ladle on spoonfuls of this bright-orange fiery mix packed with big pieces of pork.

It’s hard to decide which taco we like best at Jack-n-Grill, because they’re all great. In fact, so are the authentic Frito pie and the killer, fiery-hot green chile cooked up at this north Denver spot that excels at New Mexican-style Mexican. But if we could only choose one thing to eat at this happy, inviting place run by the entire Martinez family, it would be the vaquero tacos. They come four to an order, with a quartet of buttered soft taco shells filled with your choice of moist grilled chicken or succulent shredded beef. Either meat is finger-licking good, awash in a super-sweet, sticky, slightly spicy barbecue sauce. We’d go up the hill to fetch these anytime.

Since he started out in the kitchen of the Oak Alley Inn over two decades ago, Benny Armas has been winning fans with his cooking, and the sirloin-steak burrito at his namesake Benny’s Restaurante y Cantina gives ample proof why. This is the kind of addictive fare that gives Mexican food a good name in this town — and keeps you coming back, and back, and back for more. The burrito starts with long strips of steak, liberally seasoned, which are thrown on the grill until the edges char but the centers stay nice and juicy. The steak is then stuffed into a large tortilla along with tons of cheese; the entire package is smothered in Benny’s signature hot, hot green chile and topped with fresh avocado. The steak and cheese meld together into one salty, greasy delight, and the chile helps take the edge off the richness.

This past year, Jerry Gallegos and his family added Jerry’s Mexican Restaurant to the tiny empire that already included two Playa de Oro locations. These days, Gallegos is doing the cooking at Jerry’s, while his brother Ismal cooks at the original 38th Avenue site and his nephew, Jose Rodriguez, works the #2 store at Federal and 72nd. But all three outlets follow the same recipe for their breakfast burrito, a wake-up call of a meal filled with soft, grill-crisped potatoes and scrambled eggs along with your choice of bacon, ham, sausage or chorizo. The most important component, though, is the medium-thick green chile that smothers the burrito, a Gallegos family secret that merges small, soft pieces of pork with just a few tomatoes and plenty of hot chiles. Good morning to you, too.

The snappy Little Anita’s is owned by a family from New Mexico, and the restaurant’s reliance on chiles from that area makes all the difference. Chips come freshly fried, slightly oily and hot, so it’s a pleasure to dip them into the cool salsa, fired with red and green chiles and hot enough to make you sweat, but also boasting layers of flavor from fresh cilantro, diced onions and lime juice. The chips and salsa run $1.50 an order, but Little Anita can be forgiven for that, because the rest of the fare is so inexpensive: Platefuls of enchiladas, chiles rellenos or burritos cost only $5.25 each. So c’mon, chip in.

They’re baaaack! At Mexican restaurants around town, baskets of chips and salsa are suddenly reappearing. Eateries that still feel the economic need can cash in on their chips — and let the rest fall where they may.

One sip of the strawberry lemonade at Julia Blackbird’s, and you’ll be transported to Santa Fe. No packaged-mix drink that looks all pretty and pink and tastes like Kool-Aid, this lemonade is made fresh with fat chunks of strawberry. It’s just sweet and tart enough to cool the tongue through a plate of spicy enchiladas. Bottoms up!

Just add tequila and go, go, go. Those beautiful bad boys at the Boulder Beverage Company created a real liquid asset with Margarita on Tap! Each box holds enough non-alcoholic juice — a combo of lime and lemon — to make 24 five-ounce margaritas on the rocks. Available in local liquor stores, the marg mix is about to go national: BBC’s Brian Gansmann will be talking it up on QVC April 28. Tap in while you still can.

You may feel as though you’re sitting inside a big lime in Lime, a trendy, way-cool space, but that just makes you crave a marg all the more. Pucker up: Lime’s Mighty Margarita is 21 ounces of frozen glory, a mix of Sauza Gold tequila, Grand Marnier and a signature (and secret) lime mix that’s more like a breath of citrus-kissed air than a slug of sweet-and-sour. The menu promises that “one is all you need,” and it’s right. Yowza! (Lightweights can have a “Mini Mighty.”)

The Brown Palace has always stirred up a nostalgic longing for the martini’s golden era, when the drink wasn’t mixed with chocolate or blueberries and the concept of “class” meant more than a big wad of disposable income. When the hotel’s Atrium, always an elegant choice for tea or a quiet cocktail, recently revamped its after-work menu options to include such tempting tidbits as house-smoked salmon tart and chilled, poached asparagus, it wisely retained its popular martini cart, which enables servers to offer swillers handmade martinis done tableside. You name the poison — your choice from three vodkas and three gins — and the cart- tender shakes or stirs according to your whims. Throw in a citrus twist, a jalapeo or an olive from the garnish assortment, and sit back in the refined ambience of the Brown’s lobby as the hassles of the day slip away. Or is that sip away?

At Pints Pub, bartender Steve Lighthouse has developed a loyal following that appreciates his good humor, effortless shmoozing — and the great drinks he pours. Born in Belfast, Lighthouse grew up in Denver and was educated at Stanford, so he brings a rare perspective to the bar. A theater lover, he recommends shows to his customers, and he considers it part of his professional responsibility to collect new jokes to share with patrons. But don’t mistake him for a pushover: One Lighthouse quirk beloved by his friends is that he refuses to work on St. Patrick’s Day. Seems he doesn’t like all the drunks.

Everyone loves firefighters, but no one shows their feelings as enthusiastically as the female customers on the rooftop deck of Lodo’s Bar and Grill. Warmed by the sun and perhaps a few cocktails, they stand at attention whenever a truck races out of the nearby fire station — and salute the boys by flashing them as they barrel by. The record (thus far): a 22-boob salute.

Taking customer service to new levels, Swanky’s pumps soft-porn Cinemax movies through the bar’s bank of televisions. This entertainment approach gets points with patrons, who attempt to score while watching the pros hit home runs with ease, amid orgasms and under great lighting. Pick-up lines come easy, too: “Say baby, how’d you like to go to my place and do that?”

At Cadillac Jack’s, real dudes with broad shoulders and real broads with hoarse throats gather to cheer their favorites on the tube and celebrate the dull ache of the latest scrum with plenty of beers and, yes, rugby songs. The tavern is especially lively in the latter half of September.

Pints Pub has little in common with LoDo sports bars: Beer selecting is about the most strenuous activity going on inside the thoroughly English, charmingly rustic little spot in the Golden Triangle. Still, regulars do enjoy watching a good game now and then. They’d just prefer that it not interrupt their conversation or overwhelm their senses. (The bar’s many handcrafted beers and myriad whiskeys do that bit just fine.) So the owners keep the volume down, allowing viewers to follow the closed-caption play-by-play as it scrolls across the bottom of the screen. We’ve always known the English were great readers.

Already the bomb, Lime is primed to go thermonuclear once the good weather comes to stay. That’s when owners Curt Sims and William Logan will throw open the French doors in the back of their basement space and debut Lime’s grand outdoor patio, sunken below Larimer Square and surrounded by high brick walls. Until then, fast-spreading word of mouth will surely continue to pour bodies into the bar side of Lime, where the fresh, cool mood lighting designed by Logan and the bar’s signature Mighty Margaritas make the long wait for a table on weekends a pleasure. To savor the decor along with a top-shelf shot of tequila, however, Lime is best experienced on weeknights, especially Wednesdays, when margaritas are two for one and Luke Grant spins jazz and dub from the lounge’s DJ booth.

The longest bar in Denver draws a clientele that’s more eclectic and genuine than any you’ll find at downtown’s more freshly scrubbed haunts. Depending on the hour, Duffy’s feels like an East Coast diner, a down-home cookery or a good ol’-fashioned Irish pub, where waitresses offer patience and sympathetic smiles to those who’ve had one too many Guinnesses. The look is lived-in, not dingy; the food inexpensive, not cheap. By serving up drinks with muscle in a friendly, folksy atmosphere, Duffy’s remains a local favorite.

At the Lancer Lounge, a true neighborhood joint, everyone knows your name — even if you’ve forgotten it by the time you stumble in. Although legendary for its stiff drinks and amiable stiffs, the Lancer has some new bragging rights: It serves hearty, down-home food, thanks to Sully, who’s now stirring the pot. A decided improvement over earlier operations (we’re still trying to forget the Salvadoran-food era), the kitchen turns out a different — and unbelievably cheap — special every day. Monday’s meatloaf plate is a real bargain — but don’t order so much that the Lancer can’t sell its thick, filling meatloaf sandwiches the rest of the week.

Casa Bonita may not immediately come to mind when you’re searching for a dive. You’re thinking a dark little hole-in-the-wall, not a giant original eatertainment complex filled with canned Mexican music and canned refried beans. But consider: Foodies certainly think they’re slumming when they come here. And as at any more traditional dives, inadvertent entertainment abounds. Besides, at Casa Bonita you’ll see actual dives — executed off those fake cliffs by those built diving boys. For the best seat in the house, grab a palapa by the cliffs. Now order a round of margs and raise a glass to an underappreciated Colorado classic.

Wynkoop Brewing Co., Denver’s oldest brewpub, sits in a historic building, and for a few years, the menu seemed as ancient as the space. But these days the kitchen is as hopping as what’s brewing in those giant tanks, and the food is not only consistently good, it’s cutting-edge fare. At no other brewpub would we be brave enough to try ahi tuna with a wasabe-based sauce and coconut sticky rice, or beer-battered rock shrimp with habanero-pineapple tartar sauce. And where else in town would the menu suggest you enjoy a stout with its charbroiled elk medallions in a brandy peppercorn sauce? Even the old standbys — spicy, lamb-filled shepherd’s pie, fish encased in a crackly batter made from the brewpub’s own Railyard Ale — taste better than ever. We toast the good pub grub at this Denver institution.

This long-lived watering hole combines three of bar culture’s better merits — alcohol, televised sports and a convivial pub vibe — for a pleasing new hybrid. But it’s the in-house beer that elevates the Bull & Bush to all-star status and keeps regulars coming back year after year. Head brewer Gabe Moline crafts a long list of exceptional beers, most of them English-style ales rich with hops, flavor and true-to-style character. Moline’s ESB, IPA and strong ales are superb, as are the B&B’s brown ale and various breeds of wheat beer. D-town beer nuts can find no better place for filling their growlers than the Bush. Bully!

Don’t tell Adam Avery that the thrill-seeking spirit of the craft-beer boom has faded. Adam builds his company’s growing sales (and national reputation) on big beers that challenge the most jaded palates. His IPA is a world classic, his stout lives up to its Out of Bounds title, and Hog Heaven barley wine is one of the country’s hoppiest beers. That high-octane wonder is now joined by the Reverend and the new Salvation, Belgian-style gonzo ales that overflow with flavor and alcohol. Avery’s been very, very good to extreme beer nuts.

The warmth of the Mountain Sun lies in its intoxicating list of in-house beers. Brewer Mike Altman makes a dizzying selection of assertive, cut-no-corners beers, from the hoppy Colorado Kind to a toothy Scotch ale and a glorious, coffee-enhanced porter. As if that weren’t enough exceptional brew, the house also serves a guest list of Colorado’s best microbrews — a bold move that other local brewpubs should emulate.

For local beer hunters, no other bar touches the array of brews you can bag at Falling Rock. Owners Chris and Steve Black offer a palate-perplexing roster of over 70 draft beers and another 200-plus bottled versions; they eschew mass-market swill in favor of the best in national and craft beers. A year-round Great Global Beer Festival is as close as LoDo.

When Peter Coors visited the town in Germany whence the original Adolph Coors sprang, he liked the local lager. So he brought some back to Golden and gave it to the boys in the lab. “Can we make this?” he asked. Turned out they could — and the result is Barmen, a very rare brew available in only a handful of places (among them the Brown Palace, the Bull & Bush and 240 Union) — and only on tap. Since the brew isn’t advertised, you have to ask for it by name; you’ll also need to be patient, since it’s a seven-minute pour. Real men drink Barmen.

Finally, a local brew for the wimpy Mexican beer drinkers among us! The H.C. Berger Brewing Co., usually known for its German-style beers, recently turned its eyes south and came up with Federales Export Cervesa Pils-ner. The beer’s even poured into clear, longneck twelve-ounce bottles — the better to grab all those folks who usually reach for a Corona or Pacifico. While still a little heavier, and definitely hoppier, than those Mexican beers, Federales is a good homegrown alternative.

Drinkers wanting the latest buzz get their kicks with the honey wines made by David Myers at his Redstone Meadery. Once an at-home mead maker, Myers has turned his avocation into a vocation. His not-too-sweet bottled and draft meads are making the elixir accessible to the masses while turning Myers into the area’s newest brewing revolutionary. Beowulf would be proud.

Despite its name, the Wine Company carries as much great beer as it does wine. And while many beer vendors slap the goods on the shelves and leave it to the customers to figure out what to drink, the staff here drinks — and thinks about — its beery inventory. As a result, burgeoning beer geeks can get great advice with their selections, all of which are kept in top condition.

Restaurants looking to make their wine lists more accessible to diners should take a page from the Fourth Story and offer a variety of grapes and styles from a variety of locations, with enough rarities thrown in here and there to keep more serious wine enthusiasts interested. (No need to try to impress people with a 300-page roster that would take six mealtimes to read, let alone comprehend.) Above all, have fun, as the Fourth Story does with its Tasting Challenge: flights of wine, each with three two-ounce samplings, designed to give diners the opportunity to discern differences and find favorites. Put it all together, and it’s no wonder the Fourth Story’s wine list is a perennial bestseller.

Tired of cooler-than-thou wine stores? Try Corks, a warm, very drinker-friendly store with a completely down-to-earth approach. Owners Glenn Ehrlich and Pam Glynn, former advertising folks who decided one day that it would be neat to own a wine shop, have assembled around 300 wines, 90 percent of which cost less than $15 a bottle. The shop is divided into categories that describe the body of the grapes within and make it easier to find what you like: “Sensuous” means medium-bodied reds, “lush” means full-bodied whites. And wine novices and veteran winos alike will appreciate the fact that next to each bin is a placard explaining the characteristics of the wine and offering comments from wine writers. Ehrlich and Glynn subscribe to wine magazines from around the globe and have a database of about 16,000 wines they think are worth tracking down, and they’re bringing them to Denver as fast as they can. Uncork this baby and enjoy.

Looking for the perfect bottle of wine? Reserve some time at Reservelist, an astounding collection of small-batch, hard-to-find wines from around the world. Owner Chris Farnum, a sommelier well on his way to earning his master certification, has built a store that is literally a wine cellar, temperature-controlled and humidity-injected, where the wines are arranged by locale, variety and order of consumption, from aperitif to digestif. Farnum’s philosophy is to find wines that are going places, bottles from new, exciting vineyards that are destined to produce the next big thing, but not necessarily at the next big price. Farnum will offer a $200 bottle if it’s a great bottle, but more often he’s selling things like Sineann’s Zinfandel, a Washington State wine that costs $34 a bottle even though only seventy cases are made each year, or the 1999 Mas Doix from Spain, a $60 wine that tastes like $300. And when price is really an issue, Reservelist offers a rotating roster of twenty wines each under $20. But here’s the real reason to pop the cork: This groovy store is simply a cool place to visit, with a lounge and tiny coffee bar out front where patrons can research wines over a handy computer or using a small library of wine books. We have no reservations about this one.

If a squat green bottle covered with straw is your only Chianti experience, it’s time to take a trip to Tuscany. And you won’t need to go any farther than 17th Street, to Panzano, a lovely restaurant named after a village in the Chianti Classico region of Italy. Yes, in that country, Chianti is a classic. In this country, it’s a joke, one of the stereotyped trappings of an Italian restaurant straight out of Disney’s Lady and the Tramp. But in reality, Chianti is a lush, rich wine, capable of holding its own against the likes of Montepulciano and Barolo. And in celebrating its namesake area, Panzano offers nearly three dozen Chiantis for in-the-know diners, including the esteemed Fontodi and La Massa, all picked by sommelier Scott Tallman. Of course, every one of those wines is perfetto with chef Jennifer Jasinkski’s superb fare.

Three Sons is another north Denver landmark, an Italian eatery whose slick, busy dining room is decorated with Roman busts and softly colored lights. The fried chicken is one of the specialties here; if you can’t resist ordering it, you’ll still want to add a side of spaghetti. Even a side here is a hefty helping, a mound of perfectly cooked noodles blanketed by a gravy-like red sauce. We go all the way, though, because that red possesses an addictive flavor that hints of vegetables and herbs, puréed into a thick, ruddy consistency that holds to the pasta like an Italian mama to her babies. Don’t forget to splurge for a meatball.

Lechuga’s is such an authentic red-sauce joint, you expect to see Frank and the boys lounging around a table covered with a red-checked cloth, sharing a laugh and a bottle of Chianti. But if Ol’ Blue Eyes were still with us, he’d probably get right in line with everyone else, peering into the heated display case next to the cash register, gazing in amazement at the stacks of dough-wrapped meat sitting there — and drooling. “Devils” have been a Lechuga’s tradition from the start, and with good reason. The kitchen takes good-quality Italian meats — mild sausage, spicy sausage and big, fat meatballs — and wraps them in sweet dough before baking them into giant puffballs. Not so hungry? Tell ’em the “mini devil” made you do it.

Wedge Pizza Co., a spacious, spanking-clean new pizzeria, makes pies that are a work of art, with cheese swirled around the thin, hand-tossed crust and a lot of thick, sweet sauce. But our favorite way to get a Wedge is as a calzone, with the crust folded over our choice of toppings, then slicked with olive oil and thrown back into the oven until it turns into a tidy package that’s crunchy on the outside, cheese-oozing on the inside. The standard cheese calzone is far from standard, with mozzarella, ricotta and fresh basil melding into a blissful goo. But we like to throw in artichoke hearts and sun-dried tomatoes for extra flavor. Now, pass the sauce, please.

Here’s one place where bigger is better, because one piece of Papa Keno’s pie could be enough to satisfy. Then again, it’s hard to get enough of this pizza’s crispy crust, gooey cheese and sweet sauce enhanced by plenty of oregano. The super-casual Papa Keno’s is an ideal drop-in spot — especially judging by the number of customers from the nearby CU Health Sciences Center; a hot, drippy triangle should be in your hands within a matter of minutes. As advertised, this slice is as big as your face — and we’re ready to do a little face time at Papa’s anytime.

An Iowa-style pizza? If you never sausage a thing, head to Justine’s Pizza, a little joint in Loveland that serves an “Eastern-Iowa-style” pie — which translates to topped with sauerkraut and Canadian bacon and proves surprisingly tasty. How’re you gonna keep ’em down on the farm? With pizzas like this.

The Wazee Supper Club, started nearly thirty years ago by the Karagas brothers, was a lower-downtown institution long before the area acquired the nickname “LoDo.” Although this classic is now owned by the Wynkoop Brewing Co.’s John Hickenlooper (Jim Karagas still has My Brother’s Bar), the pizza coming out of the kitchen is the same unique pie that Denverites have enjoyed for decades. Baked in the Wazee’s stone oven, the cornmeal-enhanced wheat crust turns into a cracker-like substance sturdy enough to support the load of toppings the Wazee always piles on. In fact, by the time your pie arrives at your table, it’s so full of pepperoni and sausage or ham and pineapple or onions and mushrooms, it’s tough to know whether there’s a pizza underneath. Trust us: There is, and it’s a good one.

Just stepping inside either of the two Meglio’s outposts is enough to transport you back to the Windy City: Chicago memorabilia covers the walls, and regulars are always ready to chat about da Bears. But the pizza here is the real deal, too. In Chi-town, pizzerias pour it on thick — and Meglio’s follows suit by serving deep-dish pies so fat and smothered in cheese, one slice is enough for a meal. The sauce is rich and tomatoey, and the perfectly oiled crust is so tasty that, long after your stomach is full, you just can’t stop.

Yo! Anthony’s serves the most authentic New Yawk ‘za in town. Super-thin crackly crust. Sweet sauce. Lots of drippy cheese. Fold a slice in half, and orange grease runs everywhere. Don’t argue: You’re gonna like it.

Pizza covered with barbecued chicken is all the rage these days, but the first place to offer a BBQ pie in these parts was the N’Awlins-themed Bourbon Street. This fun, lively pizzeria features two dozen funky pies, ranging from the garlic-packed Dracula’s Nightmare to the Philadelphia Story, which comes covered with cheesesteak essentials. But our all-time favorite is the Louisiana BBQ Chicken, a medium-thick-crusted pizza topped with barbecue-sauce-slathered chicken, grilled bell peppers and onions, and a combination of smoked gouda and mozzarella for a smoky, sticky-sweet meal.

It may boast the oddest location for a barbecue place we’ve ever seen, tucked away inside a big, fancy business park, but Rocky Mountain Barbecue & Catering is the real deal. For proof, try the pulled pork: salty and rich, with just the right amount of charred bits, and as tender as the big, puffy bun it sits on. Pour on the thick, burgundy-colored, molasses-sweet and vinegar-tangy Kansas City-style sauce, and prepare to pig out.

We’re tickled by the ribs at the Rib Crib, which Evergreen native Troy Tyus took over last year from the Crib’s original owners, who’d had the place for thirteen years. Along with the restaurant, Tyus got their secret recipes — including how to rub and applewood-smoke St. Louis-cut pork ribs, baby backs and beef ribs so that they arrive at the table tender and moist, with a deep smoky taste. Although the kitchen has already splashed the ribs with the Rib Crib’s signature sauce, somewhat reminiscent of Kansas City style, with some molasses sweetness and a strong tang, more comes on the side. (The Rib Crib also has what it calls “vapor sauce,” available on request, that’ll blow your socks off.) But despite its name, this joint isn’t just about ribs. The soups and salads are good, and the prime rib is finished off in the smoker, which gives it a unique taste. Still, we love them bones.

Prime rib is such an old-time tradition, it’s not surprising to find the town’s best version at the Downtown Broker, a thirty-year-old restaurant that has seen more proposals and anniversaries than Mickey Rooney. The elegant dining room — part of a former bank — is all Japanese cherry wood, ornate knickknacks, rich fabrics, cozy booths and low lighting. The service is as accommodating as the by-the-glass wine list, which offers more than a hundred choices, including some rare high-end ones. And then, of course, there’s the free bottomless bowl of peel-and-eat shrimp. But to make your meal a truly special occasion, order the prime rib: When it roasts this primal rib cut, the kitchen lovingly coaxes out all the flavor while keeping in all the juices. You’ll want to savor every bite of the fork-tender meat, which comes with an authentic bubble of Yorkshire pudding.

Saddle up and head south — into the heart of suburban sprawl, for pity’s sake — for some of the best steaks in town. Texas Land & Cattle Steak House, a link in a chain out of Austin, serves up a heapin’ helpin’ of food in low-key surroundings; this steakhouse manages to feel like a Western watering hole without hitting you over the head with contrived cowboyisms. The meat of the matter is beef, as it should be: USDA Choice, well-aged and cut right, then hickory-smoked and mesquite-grilled. The cooking process results in charred little bits all over the steak, which has a deep, smoky taste and tender-textured flesh with just the right amount of chewiness. While the flavor — and portions — are big, the prices are relatively small, with a sixteen-ounce ribeye coming in at $19.99. And unlike at higher-end steakhouses, the meat comes with several complimentary sides to keep it company: The chile-spiked beans and garlicky mashed potatoes are tops, and the house salad is just fine (or spring an extra buck for the splendid retro wedge, ice-cold iceberg topped with an avalanche of blue-cheese dressing and bacon bits). Desserts are Texas-sized, too, so you’ll want to save space for the insulin-injection Jack Daniel’s pie. Yee-haw!

At Del Frisco’s Double Eagle Steakhouse, the steaks are awesome. The service is gracious. The wine list is impressive. The dining room is classy. The sides are stellar. The prices are up there — but you get what you pay for. For the best steaks in town, Del Frisco’s is the winner and still the chomp.

The Dire family has been serving good old-fashioned diner fare at this Bonnie Brae roadhouse since 1934 — when the road outside was still dirt, rather than today’s busy University Boulevard. But not much else has changed since those days. Sure, the pizza toppings have gotten more exotic, and microbrews now sit next to Coors at the bar (oh, yes, and the prices have gone up a bit), but the old family recipes are the same. One of our favorites is for chicken-fried steak, a formula that calls for a very large slab of flank steak to be coated in a floury batter, pan-fried in butter and then smothered in peppery country gravy, with mashed potatoes plopped alongside to soak up any excess gravy and juice. The crust, studded with small blackened bits from the pan, is so tasty that you could make a meal of it — but then you’d miss the meat inside, which is tender enough to slice with a fork.

Fly us to the Moongate, one of this town’s best-kept secrets. The tiny, six-table eatery in a tiny, nondescript strip mall cooks up quality Asian fare with big flavors — and it’s equally adept with the most popular dishes from each of the major cuisines in that region. While the tempura (Japanese), chicken satay (Indonesia) and egg rolls (Vietnamese) are all fine, the sesame chicken really soars. For this quintessential version of the quintessential Chinese dish, sizable chunks of chicken are coated in a thick batter, fried until crispy, rolled in sesame seeds and then glazed with a perfectly balanced sweet-and-spicy sauce — not sweet enough to coat a candy apple, and not so spicy that you can’t taste the moist, juicy meat inside that crust. The sesame chicken comes on the perfect accessory: a bed of steamed vegetables that have been tossed on the grill just long enough to caramelize their edges.

The Kapre Lounge is a Denver institution, a longtime outpost on Welton Street that serves the best fried chicken in town. This is Southern-style chicken, with a crunchy, oily, peppery, lightly battered skin covering slippery, juice-dripping bird. And since the chicken is cooked in heart-healthy canola oil, go ahead and splurge on sides of buttery collard greens and dense macaroni and cheese.

Broasting falls somewhere between roasting and frying, a patented process that was invented by the Broaster Co. back in 1952. Basically, it involves marinating a whole chicken, then putting it in a special pressure fryer that seals in the juices while keeping the oil content to a minimum. The result is one tasty bird: crispy skin, moist meat. The Okoboji Inn — named after the lake in Iowa, it has a casual atmosphere reminiscent of a dockside cafe — follows all of the Broaster Co. rules and serves up an unbelievably tender, juicy broasted chicken. A bird in the hand here is worth two from anywhere else.

Don’t throw this one back: Roasted to order in a brick oven, 240 Union’s fish is all crispy, sea-salty, lemon-tart skin and moist, silky flesh that melts in your mouth. The price and type of fish change with the seasons — sometimes it’s a snapper that’s big enough for two, sometimes it’s a sea bass you won’t want to share — but it’s always a keeper. Although 240 Union may have other fish to fry, we toast the roast.

At Dixons, Goodfriends and Racines, three sibling restaurants and local institutions, the fish and chips entree snags us hook, line and sinker. The bait begins with the batter, which is augmented by Dixons Angel Amber beer, a brew made off-premises that Dixons shares with its relatives. Sweet, fresh chunks of North Atlantic cod are dipped in the batter and then plunged into oil in the deep fryer, where the batter quickly caramelizes, thanks to the beer’s sugar content. The result is a dark, sweet crispy shell holding in supple, steamy cod. Served with fat French fries, sweet coleslaw and housemade tartar sauce, it’s a catch for any day.

The servers say regulars know the story, but every time a newcomer walks in, they have to tell it again. The divey Cutthroat Cafe used to be an even divier Butcher Block, but the new owner changed the name to reflect the two most important things for him: fishing and his wife, the real love of his life. Cutthroat trout in many forms — a stuffed pillow, a real stuffed fish, posters, photos, clocks and signs that say “Gone Fishing” — decorate the little diner, so there’s no getting around that explanation of the name. But then you meet the little lady of the cafe (the owners asked that their names not be used) and see that she has a large scar running from one side of her neck to the other. Stories abound as to its source, including theories that she was in an alley fight, got mugged or tried to commit suicide; she lets out a gravelly laugh every time she hears another whopper. Truth is, she had throat surgery a while back, and it left her with the scar and a voice that she admits “cuts glass.”

Cafe Berlin doesn’t have to fish for compliments over its pickled herring: The fish, pickled and spiced in-house, is tangy, firm and incredibly refreshing. Does the attractive little eatery do as well by other German specialties? You’re darn Teuton! The sausages and schnitzels are superb, even better washed down with something from Cafe Berlin’s large collection of German wines and beers.

We wouldn’t squid you: This salad is one of the tastiest, healthiest (if addictive) things you’ll ever eat, a combination of black mushrooms, sesame oil, sesame seeds, ginger, seaweed and fresh, yielding calamari whose flavors run together so that every bite becomes an earthy, nutty, spicy explosion. When we seafood like this, we eat it!

We’ve always known that Jalapeo Mexican Grill makes fab tacos, filling soft tortillas with delish deep-fried fish, but we never expected its squid to be right up there, too. At this fast-food-style spot, the squid are barely dusted with flour, then deep-fried until golden but still soft and pliant, with none of the chewiness or rubberiness you might expect. Ranch dressing provides a sweet side note, but these little beauties are tasty enough to be eaten on their own — and

with a massive order costing just $6, you’ll soon be back for more.

Baseball fans and LoDo regulars alike make tracks to this train-themed brewpub a baseball’s throw from Coors Field. As a result, the Denver ChopHouse sports some of the town’s best people-watching — but once we’ve settled into a cozy, private back booth, we find it tough to take our eyes off our order of calamari. The squid comes coated in sesame seeds, which makes for crunchier, lighter eating than the standard fried rubber rings you find in so many spots around town; the dipping sauce of ginger-spiced apricot goo is another welcome departure from the usual marinara. Here’s lookin’ at eating you, squid.

Aw, shucks. Long before other seafood restaurants realized that Denverites had the raw courage to slurp down oysters, McCormick’s was offering a wide selection of the fresh suckers every day. Even fried, these oysters are pearls: tender, tasty flesh encased in a light cornmeal crust. If the kitchen isn’t too busy — and fat chance of that, since the corner bar is one of the town’s popular hangouts — the cook might even blacken ’em on request.

All of those trendy chain doughnut places may get the press, but that’s not the hole story. For a doughnut to really touch the spot, it has to come with a history. Carol Lee Donut Shop has been serving up fried treats for over two decades. The doughnuts make great dunkers, the raspberry roll goes cinnamon one better, and the apple fritter will fry you to the moon. Wake up and smell the coffee — at Carol Lee’s.

If you’re from Wisconsin, cheese curds need no explanation. For those of you who didn’t start out in the Dairy State, curds are the form that cheese takes before it’s been aged for sale. These baubles look a little like styrofoam packing peanuts and have a texture that makes them squeak when you bite into one. Tony’s starts with cheddar-cheese curds, coats them in batter and deep fries them into a snack fit for the gods — especially when paired with a side of ranch dressing and some of the kitchen’s homemade hot sauce. This quintessential joint, run by some true sons of Wisconsin, takes over where the Flying Dog left off, so you’ll find good microbrews on tap. But don’t let that deter you from trying another specialty, the Friday-night fish and Schlitz combo. Cheeseheads, unite!

At Bastien’s, a retro supper club, it sometimes seems like time has stopped — back in the days when a steak had to be marbled with fat and no one said a discouraging word about cholesterol. And as if a plain old piece of cheesecake weren’t a heart attack waiting to happen, Bastien’s wraps the thing in a regular-sized tortilla and then deep-fries it so that the cheese gets all soft and smooshy and the tortilla turns golden brown and crispy. A ball of ice cream — sometimes it’s vanilla, sometimes it’s caramel pecan — comes on the side; the ambulance costs extra.

Olive and learn at Decisions, where the most intriguing appetizer is an order of deep-fried olives. The kitchen starts with black ones, stuffs them with Asiago cheese, covers them in seasoned breadcrumbs, fries them up and then serves them in a martini glass with a housemade ranch dressing on the side. They’re weird, wild and wonderful.

Handy, isn’t it, for a restaurant that makes the town’s best burger to also make its best French fries? Ronald McDonald, eat your heart out: These strips are the real deal, skinny and salty, with flavor that comes from a quick dip in hot oil rather than a trip to a flavor factory. The fries are delivered to your table so hot that grabbing one (and you will) could singe your fingers, but these crispy critters hold up even after a cooling-off period. This spud’s for you, babe.

Owner Gene Tang has made many changes at 1515 over the years, not the least of which was shaving the restaurant’s name down to a number. But he’s added on everywhere else, from an expanded wine list that recently earned a coveted “Award of Excellence” from Wine Spectator to a host of dishes created by chef Olav Peterson that roam the world for inspiration. One item remains unchanged, though, and deliciously so: 1515’s signature burger, a half a pound of charbroiled ground beef covered with melted Gorgonzola, grill-sautéed mushrooms and smoked bacon. This heart-stopping, palate-pleasing upgrade of an old standby comes with a crispy, creamy mound of potato salad that’s been fried, believe it or not. Talk about over the top!

CityGrille, a newly remodeled Capitol Hill hot spot, just keeps getting hotter — and its burger just keeps getting better. To make its take on the American classic, the kitchen grills up 80 percent lean ground sirloin, then slaps it on a yielding, juice-soaking Bluepoint Bakery bun. The burgers are fine plain, but they’re also good gussied up; one particularly successful combo sports an inch-thick blanket of melted Swiss, crisp bacon and a great Caesar dressing. Although the bar’s a great place for taking your time over a burger and a few beers, the people-watching is prime in the dining room.

Sure, sometimes it seems like it might be easier to drive to Philadelphia, home of the cheese-steak, than to negotiate the weird setup at Heritage Hills. But even back in Pennsylvania, you might not find a cheesesteak as good as the one made at Santoro’s Brick Oven Pizzeria. This tidy joint, decorated with hand-painted murals and not-too-cutesy Italian knickknacks, makes an honest-to-goodness — man, is it good! — cheesesteak. It starts with a half-pound of thinly sliced sirloin, imported from Philly, that’s chopped up on the grill with onions and then topped with plenty of provolone; the delicious mess is piled into Santoro’s nine-inch, home-baked Italian roll, a thin, spongy loaf that holds the juices and the sandwich together.

If Deli Tech served nothing but its pastrami sandwich, it would still be serving the best sandwiches in Denver. The pastrami is totally New Yawk-style, with succulent, fat-edged, well-seasoned beef straight from NYC’s Carnegie Deli. Get it on rye — anything else is heresy, really — and savor the juice-soaked crusts at the end. Once you’re ready for a break from pastrami (impossible to imagine), you can try the corned beef, or the roast beef, or the brisket, or the tongue; almost all of the meats are imported from back East. The egg salad is homemade, as is the chopped liver, and even the whitefish salad is a good catch. In fact, all of these sandwiches are deli to die for, and they’re even better when paired with cold borscht and sour cream or crispy latkes, then washed down with an authentic egg cream. Still think there could be a better sandwich out there? Fuhgedaboudit!

Fungi freaks can stop digging: Aix, a wonderful eatery with the air of Provence, makes the most of mushrooms with its wild-mushroom soup. Part chunky, part purée, this magical elixir tastes of nothing but ‘shrooms — from the pungent, heady broth to the butter-soft bits and a crowning touch of white-truffle oil. For true mycophagists — you know who you are — Aix marks the spot.

At the Hilltop Cafe, a charming, bright-yellow New American-style spot in a house on a hill in Golden, chef Ian Kleinman has made soups a specialty. His repertoire includes nearly a hundred concoctions, most of his own design, that he rotates regularly, and there isn’t a loser among them. Kleinman does right by the classics — a cool, creamy vichyssoise with a hint of chive; silky-smooth, basil-flecked tomato; dark, rich French onion topped with a broiled lid of bread and cheese — but also stirs up some surprising combinations, such as roasted apple and tarragon and curried pumpkin. At Hilltop, the soup’s not only on — it’s right on.

Best known for its see-and-be-seen scene where the in-the-know go to snuggle up against the bar and chat with owner Adde Bjorklund, Bistro Adde Brewster is also the town’s premier stop for savvy salads. Featuring absolutely fresh ingredients tossed in unique combinations, the salads come in two styles: small plates, such as warm-braised Belgian endive leaves mixed with bacon, or aged chèvre and toasted walnuts in a heart-healthy veggie broth; and entrees that place sesame-seared ahi in a sesame-ginger vinaigrette, or lamb chops coated in citrus-sparked gremolata over mixed greens in a dressing flavored with cumin and oranges. With over a dozen choices available, Adde’s customers can live, and relive, their salad days.

As the area’s best option for meat-free dining, Sunflower continues to blossom. Even though this tidy, sun-filled spot offers free-range chicken, seafood and hormone-free game meats, the bulk of its menu is vegetarian. The dishes are made from ingredients that contain no preser-vatives, chemical additives or artificial elements — and they’re even prepared in aluminum-free cookware, using non-irradiated herbs and spices. So what’s left? Pure flavor. While veg-heads can go for the tofu nori roll, the pesto-stuffed portobello, the pineapple sweet-and-sour tofu and the tempeh scalopini, even the most ardent carnivore should be satisfied by the chicken stuffed with corn and sage. At lunch, the salad bar is one of the tops in town.

Over the past five years, Yia Yia’s Eurocafe has become a Denver Tech Center mainstay, in part because of its efficient, gracious service and well-executed Mediterranean food (including fabulous crab risotto cakes), and in part because it has one of the best outdoor patios in town. Overlooking a man-made pond, complete with fountain, and facing southwest to catch the last rays of the day, Yia Yia’s spacious patio is surrounded by shrubbery. Sit at one of the sturdy tables — yellow umbrellas fend off the heat of the afternoon sun — and you’ll forget that you’re in the middle of an enormous business park in the middle of the suburbs.

Tamayo won the location lottery when it took over the space that had been occupied by Cadillac Ranch and turned the second-floor terrace into a Mexican retreat. Every night that the weather cooperates, you can watch the sun set over the mountains and smell the fresh air, blessedly free of car exhaust, even though the traffic whizzing below on 14th Street and Speer Boulevard is enough to make you feel like you’re part of a thriving, if not world-class, city. And when the weather is bad, your consolation prize is Tamayo’s groovy interior, complete with a stunning mosaic mural behind the bar.

With these two stores nestled against each other in the Highland neighborhood, you’ve got the makings of a perfect picnic. First, stop by St. Kilian’s, where Hugh O’Neill and Ionah de Freitas (former owners of Hugh’s American Bistro) stock cheeses from all over the globe, including ones made right in our own Colorado back yard. They also have fresh-baked bread, smoked salmon, imported chocolate and dozens of other ready-to-eat items that help make for an instant picnic. Then take your goodies next door, where Mondo Vino owner Duey Kratzer can take one look at your provisions and pronounce the ideal wine to go with them. Stick everything in a big basket and you’re off.

Forty seconds into this engaging little shop, owners Kate and Dave Kaufmann will have you tasting a few cheeses you’ve never heard of before. Two minutes later, you’ll have tasted ten. The generous taste tests are only part of what makes the Truffle the best cheese shop in town, though. Unlike the pre-wrapped wedges you find at grocery stores, the cheese here is cut to order from the Kaufmanns’ extensive selection, which includes everything from local goat cheese to rare raw-milk wheels from remote farms in France. The Truffle also offers a dizzying array of packaged gourmet foods — thyme-scented honey, porcini cream, duck prosciutto, dried chanterelles, orange-flower water, blackberry syrup — along with fresh caviar, foie gras and the namesake truffles, of course. But the Kauffmans’ true passion is cheese, and they know more about it than anyone we’ve come across. That knowledge elevates their store to a cut above the rest.

The Village Cork is just adorable, a wee bit of a place with a bar and five tables tucked into it. Once an ice-cream shop and then a deli, now it’s the most charming of hangouts, a place for folks to stop by for a glass of wine — choose from two dozen or so reds and whites, all available by the bottle or the glass at reasonable prices — and a cheese plate. The Cork gets its cheese from the esteemed Truffle cheese shop; the selection changes regularly, but you can always count on three or four cow’s-milk offerings, a couple of goat’s-milk cheeses, and several made from sheep’s milk. They come on a pretty china platter alongside cute little cheese knives, some fresh fruit and nuts. The Cork offers other grazing items, too, including duck-liver-and-truffle pâté, soup, salad and desserts. Sometimes it takes a Village Cork to raise the level of neighborhood visiting; here you can count on finding conversation as convivial as the gustatorial fare.

How much do we love this cheese plate? Let us count the wheys: At Vesta Dipping Grill, a hip, stylish restaurant in LoDo, Matt Selby, the kitchen’s big cheese, is so serious about promoting the virtues of this dairy product that his well-selected, beautifully presented cheese plate is offered as both an appetizer and a dessert. The selection changes weekly, as Selby chooses the best of the best from internationally procured curds and pairs them with such cheese-friendly tidbits as dried figs, sliced pears, candied walnuts, arugula and, of course, crackers. True connoisseurs will milk this course for all it’s worth.

When you’re suddenly overcome by a craving for sweets — you know, that sudden unstoppable need for sugar — Hammond’s Candies satisfies. Before you sink your sweet tooth into a gooey strawberry caramel or break off a piece of the company’s famous ribbon candy, though, you might want to take a free tour of the factory. After all, the buildup is half the fun. During the thirty-minute tour, you’ll see how the edible ribbons are hand-pulled and crimped to produce the wavy candy for which Hammond’s is so well known. You’ll drool at the vat of butter into which nuts and sugar are stirred for toffee production. And you’ll feel like a kid awaiting Christmas as you watch the candy makers form long ropes of confection into lollipops and candy canes. Although you’ll get samples along the way, you can’t fully indulge until after the tour, which ends with a trip to the gift shop, where your patience will be amply rewarded.

Those in need of a free buzz need look no further than Golden’s Coors Brewery. The standard tour of the facility lasts only 45 minutes, and midway through, drinking-age guests are given a Dixie-cup-sized gulp of brew, under the apparent assumption that they might not be able to complete the journey without one. Even better, the circuit winds up at a bar where each person is allowed three full-sized drafts of his choice, gratis. Teetotalers get three sodas — or can order beers and just pass them to their suds-loving buddies (another good reason to bring along a designated driver). Make ours a triple.

It’s surrounded by sprawling suburbs, but Karl’s Farm Dairy, a family-owned operation, hangs on to its cow-powered past. The dairy’s new retail outlet, just down the road on 120th, serves up the best milk in Colorado, fresh-squeezed stuff made by the herd of Guernseys that roam the pasture out back. And tours of the dairy are an udderly amazing experience that puts you face-to-face with the four-legged artisans. Take the kids for a quick lesson in where that non-fat, pasteurized stuff got its start.

Among Bump & Grind’s many post-meal wonders is a dreamy apricot-walnut bar, a square block of sweet sustenance. The Bump’s pastry ace starts with a sticky, crumbly crust, then tops it with a blend of flour, apricots, sugar and walnuts. The baked result is a dense mouthful of whole-earth goodness that doubles as a supreme breakfast bar.

Hailed as a national treasure in Slovenia, potica is a European sweetbread that’s time-honored — and very time-consuming to make. Fine bread dough is rolled extremely flat and then sprinkled with cinnamon, sugar, raisins, walnuts and many other ambrosial additions; it’s then “primed” in a special, temperature-controlled box and baked. Robert and Frank Mauro started making potica in their kitchen when they needed a little extra money for the holidays; when the demand became overwhelming, Nancy Fognani joined the team, and their home-based potica business became Orbit Corporation, Inc. Your grandma Mirjana would have toiled for hours over this holiday treat, but you can order the tasty pastry with a simple click of your mouse.

If you’re the sort who prefers — no, aches — to linger over your cozy cuppa, log on to Longmont-based Tea Train’s comprehensive Web site immediately: You’ll find yourself immersed in heady choices. The offerings include fine versions of all the classic black darjeelings, assams and keemuns, some with such intriguing designations as “Midnight Kiss” (a subtly perfumy Chinese brew) and “Dark and Stormy Night” (smoky and strong), as well as sprightly greens, whites and oolongs and some unusual and healthy herbal mixes featuring rooibos and yerba maté from South America. But don’t miss the chance to visit the tea merchant’s retail store: While purchasing your leaves for home brewing — with assistance from a very able staff — you’ll also be treated to a delightful seasonal menu of brews served in tummy-tingling steamed, iced or traditionally steeped combinations. Our favorites? There are too many to list, but don’t miss the Chocolate River and Vanilla Bean chai mixes. Chai cha cha!

Okay, so Paris on the Platte is not for everyone. If you don’t like loud music or cigarette smoke, or you feel uncomfortable in the presence of artists, goths, ravers, punks, indie rockers, computer-game players, Lord of the Rings enthusiasts, writers and unabashed readers, you might want to stick to Starbucks. But for those who prefer their caffeine with a little character, this charmingly imperfect cafe is a temporary refuge from the world of corporate aggression. With an ever-changing assortment of works by local artists hanging from the brick walls and an equally colorful cast of regulars, Paris is an unassuming piece of pseudo-bohemian heaven. Check the adjoining bookstore for good deals on used titles and exotic smokes, or try one of the kitchen’s tasty specialty sandwiches; thanks to liberal hours, you can eat as late as 2 a.m. on the weekend. We can only hope we’ll always have Paris.

We’re sweet on Micole’s pastry chef, Steven Fling, who continues to makes some of the most interesting, appealing desserts around. His eight-item roster includes such wonders as smoked golden pineapple in a coconut mousse with Myers’s rum ice cream; a white-chocolate timbale surrounded by a basil-strewn apricot salad and apricot soup; and a “study” of three pears (pear tart, port-poached pear and pear sorbet). But the real icing on the cake is the creamy-textured apple-and-cheddar “crème brûlée” in a calvados syrup that’s like nothing you’ve tasted before. Thanks to Fling, Micole finishes in first place.

So many restaurants are hell-bent on putting all those newfangled, exciting ingredients on their appetizer lists that they forget all about the old-school classics, such as escargots bourguignonne and jumbo shrimp cocktail. Vasil’s Euro-Grille, however, remembers to pay homage to the past even as it celebrates the new. The shrimp, for example, comes with that traditional cocktail sauce — here a tangy homemade version — as well as a salsa of pickled asparagus, endives and apples that’s a savvy, zesty counterpoint to the sweet shrimp meat. And while the standby of oysters Rockefeller gets the usual treatment of creamy spinach and a splash of Pernod, the dish also features tomato-pumped hollandaise and shaved Asiago for a nutty twist. But wait, there’s more: honey-baked goat cheese with roasted tomatoes, kalamatas and balsamic; seared foie gras on a slice of “crème brûlée” French toast with a raspberry reduction; and wild-mushroom risotto finished with white-truffle oil. If Vasil’s wants to start something, we’re ready.

Finally, a place that knows how to do tapas right. These little Spanish-style starters aren’t supposed to be full-fledged plates, nor are they supposed to be priced like them. Nicois recognizes this and offers more than a dozen ways to sample delightful combinations of full-flavored Mediterranean ingredients, including squid stuffed with roasted shrimp, seared foie gras, serrano ham with manchego cheese, and crispy-fried salt-cod fritters. The price is particularly appealing: Each taste treat is $3.50, which means you can snack on one or two as a starter, or put together a half-dozen and make a meal out them. Spring for a cava, Spain’s answer to Champagne, while you’re at it. Nice.

After a night of boozing, a slice of New York-style pizza dripping with cheese is just the one-two punch you need to make it home. The conveniently located Two-Fisted Mario’s is open until 2 a.m. during the week and 3 a.m. on Fridays and Saturdays, which gives you plenty of time to regroup after the bars close by putting a sugary soda and a slice into your system. Better yet, order a large pie and take the rest home with you: There’s nothing like cold pizza for a hangover.

All signs point to the Zodiac Lounge. During the week, this Mediterranean club serves dinner until 10 p.m. But on Fridays and Saturdays, the kitchen stays open until 1 a.m., and the late-night hours prove the perfect time to experience this sensory-overload “entertainment experience.” Munch on delectable fried calamari, duck quesadillas, grilled tenderloin kabob and buttery shrimp scampi in the “Water Room,” with its holograph-lined copper bar and twelve-foot waterfall, while sneaking a peek at the partyers dancing the night away in the nearby Club Cosmo.

It can be costly enough feeding yourself, much less fueling up a whole family, which is why Tokyo Joe’s was such a welcome addition to the Denver dining scene. This homegrown chain cooks up Japanese fare that’s a clean, healthy alternative to grease-laden fast food. The tasty bowls, many of which are in the $4 range, feature marinated, grilled chicken and sirloin or steamed vegetables, draped in your choice of curry, Joe’s sweet teriyaki, the trademarked hot Spicy-aki, or oyako sauce, a faintly oniony concoction. For another 60 cents, you can switch out the rice for noodles, Asian veggies or tofu. And the kids’ meals will bowl you over: A serving of chicken teriyaki, noodles and cheese, or noodle teriyaki, complete with a cookie, costs just $2.70. Have it your way, the healthy way.

Our friend the pig has many worthy parts, from the feet that give kick to menudo to those juicy fat hams to that tasty underbelly. At Zona’s Tamales, even the pig’s ears go to a good cause — cooked until tender (except for that crunchy cartilage) and slathered with mustard and onions, they fill a novel sandwich. Are you listening?

Do you march to a different drumstick? Shake a leg over to the Rib Shack, where they grill up dozens of big, meaty turkey legs every day. On their own or wearing a sock of barbecue sauce, these gamey gams are worth every penny of their $5.35 price tag.

Although the smoked turkey is only available at Sam Taylor’s Barbecue from Thanksgiving through New Year’s, this bird is worth waiting for. The longtime Denver BBQ joint puts a whole turkey in a convection smoker with applewood and hickory, then smokes it for 24 hours. The surround-heat seals in the juices, so that when you cut through the skin, they ooze right out. The tender meat inside has a delectable smoky flavor. The turkeys, which come in all sizes, run $3.25 a pound, but be sure to order yours ahead of time: They fly right out the door.

Smoking at high altitude means battling Arctic temperatures and a short supply of oxygen — major threats to the low-and-slow technique. The Big Green Egg smoker overcomes those obstacles, though, thanks to its ceramic body and tunable top and bottom dampers. The egg-cellent Egg, available at the Outdoor Kitchen, lets ‘cue hounds feed their smoking addiction year-round — and makes ribs as divine as those you’ll find at any local rib shack.

“The only advanced, home-study cooking course designed to improve the grilling and smoke-cooking skills of the novice backyard BBQuer, the professional chef and the advanced competition cook,” the Culinary Institute of Smoke-Cooking was founded in the mid-’80s by Missouri residents Ruthie Knote and her late husband, Charlie. But CISC has since become the grill next door, as a group of Denverites took over administering the “master’s level program,” an eight-lesson, totally online course that nonetheless offers “in the pit” training and promises to reveal to students such hot tidbits as How to Master the Meat Market Maze and How to Grill Steak, Hamburgers, Chicken and More to Perfection the First Time and Every Time. Participants who finish the eight courses within a year are awarded the CISC Master BBQ Cook Certificate. Although we haven’t shelled out the $299 tuition yet, we plan to as soon as we can find the right apron: This sounds like a smokin’ deal.

Anyone who’s had a restaurant meal ruined by clouds of secondary smoke coming from the next table (or one across the room), take note: With a little help, even you can safely inhale your food. GASP of Colorado (Group to Alleviate Smoking Pollution) and the Denver Alliance on Tobacco and Health have teamed up to compile the Denver Guide to Smoke-Free Dining, a handy booklet that could ensure you’ll never again have to pay for food that hasn’t been blackened on purpose (mistakes from the kitchen notwithstanding). Pick up a free copy at Denver Public Health, or order it online — where you can also search a list of restaurants that have come clean.

In Japan, miso soup is known as “smoker’s soup,” because the soy and ginger in the restorative brew are thought to counteract the harmful effects of cigarettes. And nowhere in town is the miso soup more flavorful and restorative than at Taki’s, where owner Hisashi Takimoto has been working on his own brand of miso — now available in grocery stores and specialty food markets — since 1990. Customers rave about its curative properties, calling it “flu shot soup.” And with recent studies touting more healthful qualities of soy, some Taki’s regulars are even downing the soup in the hopes of preventing gallstones and cancer, lowering cholesterol and relieving menopause symptoms. But even if you aren’t ailing, this soup is good food.

At most restaurants, where there’s smoke, there’s ire. And even at Racines during the first six hours of the day, smokers can light up only in the welcoming bar area. But starting at 2 p.m. — and all day on Sundays — Racines gives smokers some room of their own by turning the comfortable back area of the restaurant, with its warm lighting and sink-into-them swivel chairs, into a smoking section where ciggy heads can light up, eat a great salad (filled with heart-healthy veggies) and enjoy one of the best margaritas in town.

Last year, Cherry Creek Grill was Bandera, the best place to find divorced and single forty- and fifty-somethings who liked their liquor. Under a new name but the same ownership, it’s now a family-friendly eatery that’s the perfect spot to treat your date — and her kids — to dinner. The space is groovy enough to be impressive, and the food is good for all ages. The kids’ menu features the usual grilled cheese, chicken sandwich and PB and honey, along with more serious dishes, including roasted chicken and prime rib; each kids’ meal is $5 and includes a side, a drink and a Dove bar. The adult fare is just as tasty (roasted chicken is a sure bet for grownups, too), and the odd cabbage-laced mashed potatoes — like the chicken, a holdover from the Bandera lineup — are a must. In the end, everyone goes home happy — as long as they go to their own homes.

It’s noon, and you’re feeling naughty. Head to the Burnsley Hotel, where the dimly lit, low-ceilinged dining room has an intimate atmosphere and cozy nooks and crannies just right for cuddling up. If it’s true love, split an entree of angel-hair pasta with fresh roma sauce so that you can slurp up the noodles together. If it’s just sex, go for the hearty, blood-pumping beef tenderloin with béarnaise. And if you’re too worked up to go back to work right away, might we suggest a trip upstairs to one of the Burnsley’s newly remodeled rooms?

Over the past 35 years, hundreds of men — and a couple of women — have popped the question at the Greenbriar, a romantic old country inn surrounded by twenty acres of lush landscaping, with a heated, French-door-lined atrium and an elegant, wood-lined dining room. Let the management know of your plans ahead of time, and they’ll get as many people in the restaurant involved as you’d like — or not. Some folks propose quietly and then slink off into the night, while others ask chef Edwin K. Wiles II to come out and take their picture. Hide the ring in a mess of pan-fried frog’s legs or have your waiter drop it into a glass of champagne. Whatever happens next is up to the two of you.

Mars and Venus never had it so bad: You two come from such different planets, NASA is trying to get additional funding to study your relationship. It’s clearly time to end it, and Sacre Bleu is just the place for that. Start the evening with dinner in the upscale eatery’s lavishly decorated dining room, and after the bill has been paid — insist on going Dutch, by the way, and treat yourself to the foie gras — announce that it’s over. Then head into the lavishly decorated bar, where dozens of available beautiful people linger over Champagne splits and sashimi tuna, reminiscing about the good ol’ dot-com days. If you can’t find Mr. Right, at the very least you’ll find Mr. Right Now.

Okay, maybe the name should be her first clue, but if that doesn’t do it, a walk through the bar, filled with drag queens and male strippers, might be all she needs. But sometimes Mom just doesn’t get it, and that’s when you can sit down in the colorful dining room at BJ’s Carousel and, over very good, all-you-can-eat spaghetti for $2.50, drop the bomb. If she runs out screaming, you won’t have blown too much cash, and any change you have left over will snag a bag of popcorn from the old-fashioned machine in front. Then you can sit back and watch the floor show.

Last year, the popular Highland’s Garden Cafe changed course: Instead of acting like a regular restaurant, it’s now a mecca for folks looking to get together with anywhere from six to sixty for private meals in the comfort of these two joined Victorian homes. While the gorgeous spaces are still open to the public a few times a month, the rest of the time the charming rooms — many decorated with trompe l’oeil walls and overlooking lush gardens and a stunning back patio — hold groups of businesspeople, wedding rehearsals, family reunions and old friends, all of whom get to take advantage of chef/owner Pat Perry’s striking dishes paired with wines from the extensive cellar. Party on.

Just looking at the appetizer menu at Restaurant Kevin Taylor, restaurateur Kevin Taylor’s namesake that recently earned Mobil four-star status, is enough to overdraw our bank account. But when price is no object, serious foodies and folks with expansive expense accounts head straight for this elegant room, where the food is enough to make your eyeballs roll toward the heavens. There’s homemade ravioli filled with black truffles and roasted garlic, tuna ceviche awash in coconut milk and served in a tuille made from chiles and coriander, and ravioli stuffed with Maine lobster and crab. A four-course meal here will set a person back sixty bucks — and that’s without tax and tip, much less wine — but who cares when someone else is paying? And if that someone desperately wants you as a client, go ahead and order that ounce of “000” Beluga caviar ($85), which doesn’t really go with a bottle of 1959 Château Margaux, but what the heck — it’s only $2,400, and worth every penny. And so are you.

Fishing for an inexpensive way to unwind after work? Cast your lot with the rest of the downtowners who head to Del Mar Crab House, an inviting, below-street-level eatery in Larimer Square. There’s no bait-and-switch here: Look for the $2 appetizers offered Monday through Thursday, and you could net a cup of soup, mussels, peel-and-eat shrimp, crabcakes or steamed clams (oysters are 75 cents each). And on Fridays, the snacks are on the house: The happy-hour buffet includes shrimp, hot wings, chips and salsa, jalapeo poppers and quesadillas. With well drinks, beer and wine all priced at $3.50, you can raise your glass to reeling in a real catch.

Sidle up to the bar at Tamayo between 5 and 7 p.m. weekdays and prepare to get happy. Very happy. The jazzy, snazzy atmosphere at this upscale Mexican restaurant is enough to make you feel upbeat, but the happy-hour deal is guaranteed to elevate your attitude. During Hora Feliz, what is already one of the best margaritas in town comes with an extra half-shot of tequila, as well as botanas — free little tidbits that go down just as smoothly. The offerings change daily; we’ve supped our way through little bowls of poblano-packed soup, dipped tortilla chips into a zesty black bean dip, munched on chicken-filled tamales and tucked into authentic ceviche. ¡Salud!

Don’t you know we’re riding high on the Marrakesh express, an all-you-can eat buffet lunch featuring the best this restaurant has to offer? For $5.95, a diner can sample four Middle Eastern entrees, including a heavenly chicken dish, in addition to sides, salads and gooey sticky buns so sweet they’d make the gods weep. Although the meal itself is a real deal, you also get to enjoy it in sumptuous surroundings, complete with silky patterned fabrics hanging from the ceiling and chairs you can sink into for a restful midday retreat.

Those who frequent the Monaco outpost of the multi-site Colorado Athletic Club have an extra incentive to get a good workout: an in-house cafe that serves up better chicken wings and savvier Caesar salads than you’ll find in most regular restaurants. Set up behind the check-in desk at this large workout facility, Café Monaco boasts a dozen wooden tables and a view of the indoor tennis courts (which can sometimes be inspirational in a different way). The kitchen specializes in healthy items, including a veggie sandwich, salads, homemade soups and a “Body for Life” salad, described as “the right mix of protein, vegetable and carbohydrates.” Not everything here is good for you: For starters, there’s that cheese-packed quesadilla and the deep-fried popcorn shrimp served over French fries. But you’ve earned it, right?

Power to the businesspeople who cram into this authoritatively noisy spot for lunch, eager to see who else is there and ciao down on innovative, new-wave Italian fare. The bright, bustling Campo de Fiori is so noisy that no one can eavesdrop on your conversation, and the menu alone will give you plenty to talk about — from bold gnocchi al funghi for middle- management types who’re strong enough to be seen eating dumplings to a buffalo mozzarella salad that says, “I haven’t lost everything to the stock market yet.” Liquid- lunchers who have lost a bundle sit at the bar downing limoncellos like Jolly Ranchers. Control your intake, though, because you can’t risk a restroom stop: You might miss something.

At Sam’s No. 3, a wonderfully kitschy diner, the Kitchen Sink Skillet will either kill you or keep you fueled for an entire day. Two eggs, done your way, are placed on top of a skilletful of grill-crisped home fries that have been mixed with melted cheddar, grilled onions, bell peppers, diced tomatoes, sliced mushrooms and pieces of ham, bacon, sausage and gyros meat; Sam’s then smothers the whole damn pan with its “kickin’ green chili,” a medium-spicy, tomatoey, pork-packed green chile. With a side of toast to sponge up every crumb, this is a powerful way to start — or end — your day.

Decisions is the best-kept secret on East Colfax, which could be why serious decision-makers decide to hold their power breakfasts here, away from prying eyes. The restaurant is close enough to the Capitol to appeal to lawmakers and right on the way to work for downtown types; stop by any morning and you’ll see power brokers wolfing down eggs Benedict and breakfast bagels while they quietly divide the world among themselves. But the space is right for a peaceful early a.m. repast, too, with soothing, squash-colored walls, just enough light streaming in from the high windows, and strategically placed tables to give you privacy. Go for the Big Breakfast, which offers a choice of pancakes, waffle or French toast with eggs, hashbrowns and meat: If you clean your plate, all those movers and shakers will know that you’re a big shot, too.

When it comes to innovation, most Sunday sit-down brunches lay an egg. But at Piscos, you won’t find the same old, same old. The cuisine here is South American, which on Sundays translates into a half-dozen interesting dishes you won’t find anywhere else in town. Check out the Chilean scramble, which stirs things up by mixing eggs with spinach, onions, garlic and a spicy salsa; the puffy, mushroom-topped chorizo soufflé; or the salmone y capers, smoked salmon with well-poached eggs, a chipotle-fired cream cheese, capers and grilled tomatoes on toast points. Each entree includes a visit to the “intercontinental table,” a buffet set with cheeses, yogurt, pastries and fresh fruit. The atmosphere at Piscos is so low-key that you can sit and read the Sunday paper, while Latin music playing in the background will perk you up for the rest of the day.

Every Sunday, the elegantly rustic Cucina Rustica, located in the Lodge at Vail, unveils the brunch buffet blowout of all blowouts. You’ll find the usual suspects — made-to-order waffles and omelettes, eggs Benedict, housemade breads and pastries, a carving station that alternates between spit-roasted whole salmon, lamb, turkey and sirloin — but since this restaurant specializes in Tuscan-style fare, it also serves up Italian specialties you’ll never spy at any other brunch spreads, including gnocchi, homemade ravioli and gourmet pizzas. Cucina Rustica also puts out over twenty salads, including a superb Caesar, and several kinds of seafood; the desserts are drop-dead delicious, too. Champagne is included in the price of the buffet, which varies from $27 to $32, depending on the season. And if you’re dining during one of the warmer seasons, you can enjoy your meal out on the deck, feasting your eyes on the gorgeous view at the same time you stuff your stomach. If you aren’t staying here, you can digest on the long — but worth it — drive home.

There’s no better way to waste a Saturday morning than wandering around the Cherry Creek Farmers’ Market. Every weekend from May through October, the Bed, Bath & Beyond parking lot becomes a great place to stock up on fresh legumes and fruits harvested by local growers. If you haven’t had breakfast, you can fill up on breads and pastries sold at the many food stands and perk up with a power shake or coffee. Don’t leave without a bouquet of wildflowers, the perfect reminder of how you’ve lazed away half the day.

Rise and shine at the Chalet, which manages to be too cute and a total dive at the same time. Although the building is shaped like a Swiss cottage, behind its scalloped-edge windows and lacy curtains lurks a quintessential diner, where waitresses who have been there forever know all the regulars’ names. The honey-fried chicken is delish — all crackly sweet crust and greasy meat beneath (don’t worry, it’s fried in heart-healthy canola) — and the soups sometimes taste homemade. But the real reason the Chalet is packed from the second it opens at 6 a.m. is the $2.49 breakfast: two eggs your way, a heap of potatoes and three choices of meat, including several strips of well-crisped bacon. Do you want coffee with that, Hon?

Sunday through Thursday nights, Jax Fish House features “blue-plate specials” that fit the mood of the day. On Mondays, that means fish ‘n’ chips; Tuesday is Wash Day, cleaning the kitchen out of shrimp and beans and rice. But Sunday dinner is our favorite meal at Jax, because that day’s offering is steak ‘n’ eggs Benny, a serious version of the breakfast classic that takes tender-on-the-inside, blackened-on-the-outside sirloin steak and blue crabcakes and piles them onto cornbread slices, then tops them with poached eggs and a Creole-style (read: spicy) hollandaise. Now, that’s what you call your Sunday best.

The yolk’s on all the other breakfast joints in town too chicken to get real: By making hollandaise to order, 730 South forever won our hearts (even as it clogs our arteries). Every weekend morning, this charming and casual bistro turns out the best eggs Benedict in town: a buttery croissant (rather than the traditional English muffin) split and topped with thin slices of honey-cured ham and poached eggs, then blanketed with lemony, housemade hollandaise. Sided by fresh fruit and washed down with a respectable bloody Mary, it’s a great way to start the day.

Get to D’Eggos early if you crave the best biscuits in town. They come out of the oven piping hot at the crack of dawn, whisked to your table by the efficient and personable Rose. Chewy and immense, they’re good as the centerpiece of a hearty biscuits-and-gravy dish or on the side, slathered in honey and butter, accompanying one of this cozy cafe’s other eye-opening breakfast dishes.

Done right, this yeast-pumped egg bread, traditionally served on the Jewish Sabbath and holidays, is something worth craving any day. Every Friday, Breadsmith has perfect challah ready to go: sweet, spongy-soft, braided loaves that sport even, smooth crusts with a thin, egg-yolk sheen. Eat it right away for the most velvety of fresh-bread textures — oy! — or let it sit out for a few days and then make the best French toast ever. Looking for something else to fill your bread basket? Breadsmith offers a dozen other fresh-baked loaves each day, including their toothsome honey-sweetened multigrain.

Nestled in the middle of a nondescript strip mall, Daniel’s of Paris is a cheery little bakery that makes gorgeous cakes, tarts, cookies and the town’s best cinnamon rolls. These soft, doughy bundles of goodness are flecked with plenty of cinnamony sugar and topped with a thick slick of fondant, an icing made from sugar, water and cream of tartar that’s been cooked until it sticks up in cresty waves. But what makes these rolls really rock is the thin shmear of baked almond cream in the center. C’est magnifique!

A real baguette is a work of art. While many bakeries attempt to create the elongated, cylindrical French bread, few are able to master its crisp, brown crust and airy, chewy center. But Breadworks succeeds were so many others fail. Here the baker rolls the dough tight so it rises just right, then leaves it in an enormous brick-and-tile oven until the crust has formed a crunchy, rustic-style shell that will tear into craggy, soft-centered pieces while still holding up for crostini slices. You can now enjoy the finished product at Breadworks — the store was recently remodeled to include a cafe, where its breads are shown off in sandwiches — and still buy baguettes to take home. Bag any imposters: We give our dough to Breadworks.

There are indeed two boys who run the 2 Boys Baking Company, but they’re shy. Instead of tooting their own horns, they insist that their baked goods speak for themselves — and they’re right. Still, it’s hard to believe that just two people can produce all the wonderful items that fill this tiny spot to overflowing. Everything is made from scratch — 2 Boys doesn’t believe in preservatives or stabilizers and features natural ingredients and organic whenever possible — and the busy bakery will even take special orders. But you can’t go wrong with any of the regular offerings: six-layer chocolate-mousse cake; Italian cherry-ricotta deep-dish pie; Portuguese sweet bran bread with currant and walnuts; pretzels made from pastry dough and coated with chocolate or almonds; three-seed loaf made from cottonseed, linseed and flax; Cajun quiches; oversized peanut butter cookies; and soups and sandwiches. Obviously, 2 Boys is better than none.

If the movie Chocolat had been about pastries instead of chocolate, the Cream Puffery could have played the part of the sensuous shop. Partners Amy DeWitt, a pastry chef and cake designer, and Cuban-born Lourdes Sanchez have created a dessert-lover’s paradise. Although the Puffery also serves commendable authentic Cuban sandwiches and espresso, the cream of the crop are the cakes and tortes: luxurious concoctions made from European chocolate, marzipan, buttercream, ganache, mangos and passion fruit, as well as liqueurs and japonaise (almond meringue). The wedding cakes are unique and gorgeous, and the cuatro leches cake milks vanilla, caramel, chantilly and heavy creams for all they’re worth. Meanwhile, women on the verge of something, anything, should check out the PMS torte, a soothing mixture of frangipane (almond pound cake, the richest, moistest version imaginable) layered with chocolate chiffon cake, soaked with a brandy-spiked simple syrup and coated in ganache.

As Pesce Fresco’s name implies, the specialty at this stylish restaurant is fresh fish; the seafood dishes, particularly any involving pasta, are superb. (So is the Gorgonzola cheesecake appetizer.) But don’t sell dessert short. Owners Joel and Merrilee Diner have trained their staff to always go the extra mile, and they model that behavior by making their own gelato-style ice creams — rich, creamy stuff that they whip up in a small-batch ice-cream maker. Pesce Fresco always has two sorbets on hand, along with a vanilla and some form of chocolate ice cream; more creative flavor mixes range from white chocolate pistachio to raspberry daiquiri sorbet. Cool.

A great family restaurant begins with a great family, and you won’t find a better one than the family behind Rosa Linda Mexican Cafe. As their northwest Denver eatery grew — from a little walk-up burrito window to a series of colorful storefronts — the children of Virgil and Rosa Linda Aguirre grew, too, from polite kids who used to hang out after grade school to chefs in their own right. But you’ll still find the entire crew here, hanging out with Destiny, the first grandchild (her baby paraphernalia overflows from a front booth), pitching in wherever they’re needed. And when Virgil and Rosa Linda aren’t in the kitchen, mixing up that fiery green chile that goes so well over a shredded-beef burrito, they’re keeping things cooking in the community, offering free feeds on holidays for the homeless and pushing for greater parental participation in the schools.

No, you can’t bring Bear or Baldo inside; that wouldn’t be sanitary. But Poggio’s, a fresh-faced addition to the eateries of Highlands Square, provides a water dispenser for thirsty mutts outside; posts photos of pet-owning customers inside; and serves free doggie treats for canines who wait while their handlers pick up breakfast bagels stuffed with eggs and roasted peppers, panini or some of the best gelato in town. Woof!

Last fall, Boulder City Council approved the Boulder ChopHouse’s valet service on one condition: The restaurant had to supply free valet parking for anyone who wanted to use the service, whether or not they were planning to eat at the restaurant. For reasons unknown, the ChopHouse agreed. As a result, folks hungry for a parking place in this congested part of town between Wednesday and Saturday nights (when the service is offered) now consider the ChopHouse a must-stop.

The team at Mizuna works like a well-oiled machine. It helps that many of the staffers have been at this spot since it was Aubergine and were so happy there that when chef/owner Frank Bonanno and his partner, Doug Fleischmann, took over the space, they stuck around. But Bonanno and Fleisch-mann quickly gave them even more reason to be happy at this charming Mediterranean room: food that never fails to please. So from the second diners walk through the door, they’re made to feel welcome, promptly greeted and seated, then properly wined and dined. The service is seamless, and no need is left unmet. It serves us right to eat at Mizuna.

So many restaurants have stopped taking reservations, it’s becoming commonplace for would-be diners to stand awkwardly in a foyer the size of a broom closet or resort to paying extra in order to drink overpriced liquor at an overcrowded bar until a table comes open. But Mateo, a charmingly hip Provençal spot in Boulder, makes the wait a worthwhile part of the whole dining experience. You get to pass the time in a plush, velvety alcove next to the front window, settled against soft pillows, enjoying a clear view of the dining scene and the twinkling lights of Pearl Street. There’s plenty of leg room, plus a well-positioned table in case you’d like to enjoy a glass of wine, and the area seats two or three small parties comfortably. And if the waiting room’s full, there’s still the oval bar, another comfy space that’s popular with local singles.

Everything at Citrus seems a bit overblown, from the cocktail waitresses clad in little black dresses to the copious amounts of Champagne consumed on any given night. And there’s something about the velvety booths against the restaurant’s far wall that takes even the cozy concept of “comfy” over the top. High-backed and banquette-style, these seats feel isolated from each other and the rest of the dining area; the plush,

touch-me upholstery just begs for skin contact. Sitting in one of these booths is sinfully delicious.

Forget those cooler-than-thou chain spots: Rocky Mountain Fruit Shake knows how to make a liquid lunch a stirring experience. Fresh fruits and juices mix with frozen yogurt or ice for healthy, refreshing shakes; for an extra boost, add protein powder, ginseng, lecithin or spirulina. Take the invigorating brew back to the office or sit in the food court where you can feel truly comforted by the fact that your life is less miserable than those of the lonely souls who hang out here. And if your day has been so tough that even that doesn’t help, the only option is one of their dreamy floats, which add a big blob of creamy frozen yogurt to the top of the glass.

Owner Marilyn LeBlanc is so gracious, Cafe Evangeline feels more like a Louisiana home than a storefront on South Broadway. And a bit of the food at this small Cajun and Creole eatery is enough to transport you straight to the Bayou. The kitchen at Evangeline puts out a mean jambalaya and étouffée, and the catfish and frog’s legs are pretty good, too. But what really sends us south is the red beans ‘n’ rice, a dish filled with spicy, smoky sausage that releases its good grease down into the rice. It’s just the thing to warm the coldest days and send us sweatin’ in the summer. Y’all come back now, ya hear?

Pasta is always comforting, but at midday, we need it most. For comfortable carbo-loading, head over to the soothing Bruno’s, where nothing is rushed and the servers never fail to sport a smile. Start your meal with a bowl of that day’s zuppa, maybe a creamy wild mushroom or a warming minestrone. Then follow up with penne Alfredo, with its gentle, creamy cheese sauce tossed with artichoke hearts and oven-dried tomatoes; or perhaps the chicken Sienese, a breast grilled with honey and balsamic and topped with a portobello, all nestled in a bed of capellini slick with garlic and olive oil. The truly needy should head straight to the brodo del giorno, or broth of the day, which Bruno’s makes from scratch, simmering bones and vegetables into a stock and then adding fresh meats and veggies for a satisfying, healthy brew sure to help you forget that the boss just asked for that project that was due yesterday. On second thought, make that a double.

The most comforting thing about comfort food is how satisfied your tummy feels after it’s full. And it’s not going to get any fuller than at Kathy and Bill’s Diner, a place that clearly knows the meaning of “super-size.” Every meal at this divey diner comes super-sized, but the breakfasts, which are served all day, are particularly big. The pancakes look like steering wheels; a pita the size of a toddler’s head overflows with scrambled eggs and feta cheese; six strips of bacon sit next to a four-egg omelette. Our favorite eye-opener is the Havana muffin, which makes the McDonald’s version look like a snack. The kitchen takes a regular-sized muffin and tops it with a flap of ham the size of a compact disc, four slices of melted American cheese and two eggs, then puts three or four potatoes’ worth of crispy-edged home fries on the side. Uncle!

All aboard for the ultimate in comfort food: the Great Northern Tavern’s chicken pot pie. At this train-themed brewpub, the pot pie arrives as a huge crock filled with soft chicken chunks and fork-tender root vegetables suspended in a chicken-rich, lightly peppered country gravy that’s just beginning to ooze out of a golden topper of rich, flaky pastry. The second your fork pierces the lid, steam wafts up and permeates the air with a smell reminiscent of fresh-baked pies and dew-kissed mornings on the farm. A frosty mug of the tavern’s hoppy Western Star Wheat is just the thing to wash down this entree pie; after that, it might be time to find a sleeper car.

The Buckhorn Exchange is in its 109th year, and unlike the hundreds of animals whose heads (and other parts) grace the walls, it’s still alive and kickin’. And this restaurant really jumps at lunchtime, when the hungry hordes pile into its Old West-style dining room and dive into the pot-roast sandwich, the Buckhorn’s best-selling comfort food. Good luck getting this monster into your mouth: The thick-cut black pumpernickel bread can barely hold in the fat chunks of falling-apart-tender beef brisket, which are soaked through with a dark, salty, beef pan gravy. That gravy eventually soaks through the bread, too, at which point you might as well surrender and eat the whole mess with a fork, alternating dips into the side of chunky mashed potatoes, also smothered in that good gravy.

When you’re dining, nothing is as soothing as a big pot of cheese — hot, molten goo ready-made for melting away the cares of the day. The aptly named Swiss Haven is so warm and welcoming a restaurant that by the time you’re seated, you feel like you’re sitting in the middle of a big tub of custard, while charming servers prepare your personal, authentic Swiss fondue experience. Each pot of kirschwasser-kissed cheese (choose from four possible combinations, all based on Gruyère) comes with a basket of bread cubes, and the pot stays on the tabletop burner until the last little bit of la religieuse — the crispy, browned crust that forms in the center of the fondue pan — is scraped off and scarfed down. If you’re not yet fond of fondue, Swiss Haven will melt away any objections.

Most restaurants hide the grilled cheese sandwich on the kids’ menu, but the beloved Rocky Mountain Diner proudly puts it right beside the rest of its down-home comfort-food fare designed with adults in mind. And that’s where this sandwich belongs. Two thick pieces of Texas-style toast are liberally buttered and grilled, then filled with so many slices of yellow American cheese that after another grilling, the insides wind up spreading halfway across the plate. Your obvious choice of sides is a large pile of thick-cut French fries. Pass the ketchup — and say cheese.

Step into Lincoln’s Road House, and it may seem as though you’re back in the ’70s-era wood-paneled basement at your friend’s house where you used to sneak beers. But don’t let the ultra-casual lounge atmosphere fool you: Behind the bar lurks a kitchen that knows what it’s doing, especially when it comes to meatloaf. This loaf is meaty, all right, studded with big pieces of onion for flavor, and it comes sliced an inch thick and slapped on a thin but substantial bun that’s been buttered on the inside and grilled. Lettuce, tomato and mayo give extra moisture to the already juicy sandwich; a side of well-seasoned, skin-on fries and a small bowl of homemade macaroni salad round out the meal. Down a few Buds and play something on the jukebox — which offers King Missile’s undeniable classic “Detachable Penis” — and you’ll really feel like you’re back in the basement.

When the world’s going to hell in a handbasket, you’ll find us at Bang!, drowning our sorrows in the tangy, beef-rich homemade gravy that comes slathered over Bang!’s juicy meatloaf, a your-mama-never-made-it-like-this gourmet version with plenty of intense seasonings and none of the gristle often found in ground beef. The mashed potatoes (more gravy, please!) and sautéed spinach that come with the hefty slice add to the plate’s comforting capabilities. For a warm-and-fuzzy finale, take on a large square of the heavenly gingerbread topped with whipped cream. Bang! — this restaurant got us again.

Since chef Goose Sorenson — formerly of Mel’s Restaurant and Bar and Starfish — took over the kitchen at this difficult address that last year was Ambrosia, things have been looking up. For Solera, the dining area has been reworked to seem more intimate and inviting, and the menu is filled with Sorenson’s eclectic inventions, including foie gras on a ginger-snap crust. The standout offering, though, would have to be the mashed potatoes, done two different ways: The roasted-garlic spuds, sweet and toasty, come with the succulent braised lamb and nicely grilled salmon entrees; and the rich, oniony mascarpone mashers accompany the crunchy-skinned Chilean sea bass. Both versions feature such smooth, feathery textures and rich, buttery undertones that we’re tempted to head into the kitchen with our spoons.

You’re a grownup now, and it’s time to put the neon orange mac ‘n’ cheese mix behind you, not inside you. In keeping with its name, Dazzle goes for something above and beyond, serving up a macaroni and cheese that’s positively dizzying. Elbow macaroni and four cheeses — parmesan, Fontina, mozzarella and gouda — are mixed in just the right proportions so that the noodles are all melty and soft but not too wet or dry; a large bowl of this goodness is evenly covered with buttery breadcrumbs and tossed under the broiler until the top begins to sizzle, then finished off with a smattering of diced tomatoes and fresh basil. So very adult, so very dazzling.

Since September 11, we Americans have been self-medicating our depression with foods that remind us of hearth and home, warmer, fuzzier times, and the good old days when you could get on a plane without getting felt up. Mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, roast chicken and Oreos are being consumed in record numbers as we seek out restaurants that comfort the heart as well as the stomach. And you won’t find a more comforting place in town than the lunch-only Tom’s Home Cookin’, which does a fine job with all of our homey favorites (okay, not Oreos, but Coca-Cola chocolate cake is a mighty good substitute). Owners Tom Unterwagner and Steve Jankousky know how to nurture through nature’s most soothing comforts: pot roast and cheesy potato casserole, warm cornbread and peach cobbler. Maybe if bin Laden had tried the daily bargain, “meat and two” for $6.45, he’d have had a better outlook on life.

Start spreading the news: Thanks to Deli Tech, Denverites can finally take a real bite of the Big Apple. Finally, pastrami on rye we can really sink our teeth into. Finally, latkes that are light and crunchy. Finally, borscht that can’t be beet. Brought to us by two former New Yorkers (and longtime Coloradans), Fred Anzman and Barbara Simon-Anzman, Deli Tech is a black-and-white delight reminiscent of the glorious delis of the East Coast, where egg creams rule and stuffed cabbage is a gourmet treat. Finally, we’re chopped liver — and we’re loving it.

Okay, we know a teahouse may not be the first location that pops into your mind when you’re in a romantic mood. But Dushanbe isn’t your typical teahouse. A gift of the mayor of Dushanbe, Boulder’s sister city in Tajikistan, the elaborately decorated building is breathtaking, a work of art featuring hand-carved and hand-painted ceiling tiles, tables, stools and columns, all of which combine to create an exotic getaway the second you walk through the intricately decorated doors. The menu offers exotic mysteries to match, a collection of sumptuous, sensuous foods from faraway lands: African plantain fritters, Puerto Rican chicken adobo, wild-mushroom risotto. To ensure that sparks fly, ask for a tucked-away floor table, where you and your date can sit on plush pillows, sip steamy jasmine-scented tea, listen to a nearby fountain dribbling water and discuss international affairs…if you know what we mean. See? We told you so.

Mein Gott, we thought Sacre Bleu was a goner. But then owner Julie Payne wisely gave it up, and her ex-husband, Michael Payne, stepped in to try to sort things out. Lo and behold, he succeeded in doing just that, bringing in a savvy staff — including chef Hamilton Cowie — and toning down the attitude a bit, so that diners can count on professional service, reasonable prices and stunningly flavored food. Bar-hoppers still nestle in the groovy bar area, but a fun bar menu means that they’re more likely to graze than score. More serious foodies can settle down in the plush dining room and gorge themselves on foie gras, sunchoke tarts, stuffed duck breast with a dried-cherry bread pudding, and a molten chocolate cake that’s to die for. Thank God.

You say New American, I say contemporary American, he says fusion. Whatever. In recent years, Potager has come into its own as a consistently exciting restaurant that almost defies definition, using ingredients from all over the world to create interesting, enticing dishes. From appetizers of Berkshire blue-cheese ravioli over arugula and updated crab Louie to oven-roasted saddle of rabbit with caramelized fennel and pan-roasted monkfish with braised oxtail, chef/owner Teri Basoli creates meals with flair. The wine list pulls from all over, too, and the bustling atmosphere makes diners feel they’re somewhere special. Oh, say, can you see what a wonderful restaurant this is?

When it comes to authentic New Mexican food, Julia Blackbird’s flies right. The vibrantly colored, busy cafe is the ideal setting for chef/owner Julia Siegfried-Garrison’s flamboyant flavors and bold ingredient combinations. The Chimayo chiles stuffed with goat cheese and dusted with blue-corn meal make for chiles rellenos that are out of this world. Closer to home, go straight to Taos with the flash-fried, blue-corn tacos, filled with chicken or beef and a sharp pico, or swing through Navajo country with a bowl of hearty stew chock-full of posole, beans, corn and potatoes, with goat cheese for added zing. Since there’s no liquor license here, the strawberry lemonade is the drink of choice.

As Latin-food lovers race to the new South American spots cropping up across town like plantains in a tropical heat wave, savvy south-of-the-border aficionados continue to savor the culinary carnaval that is Café Brazil. The only thing zestier than the colorful decor in this tiny, fascinating space is the food, from the fab fejoida (Brazil’s national dish) to the particularly luscious flan. Entrees are substantial and always surrounded by rice, steamed vegetables and fresh fruit; if that’s not enough food, moist banana bread and savory cheese buns come with the meal, and the spicy black-bean soup and killer calamari appetizers make nice add-ons. The close quarters make the dining room as intimate or as raucous as you’d like, but be sure to make reservations — Denver loves this Latin a lot.

Get your mojo working at Cuba Cuba, Denver’s first totally Cuban restaurant. Owners Kristy Socarras Bigelow, her husband, Brian Bigelow, and her brother, Enrique Socarras, have turned two side-by-side, pre-1880 dwellings in the Golden Triangle into party central, with one house looking like a casual, convivial replica of the Casablanca set, complete with palm-frond fans and a bright, open-air feel, and the other transformed into a bongo-lined bar. The drink of choice is a mojito, made from rum, fresh mint leaves, a splash of lime and plenty of sugar, and the recipes — from Enrique (the siblings are Cuban) — focus on the breezier, fruit-focused foods of Cuba. Have fun with the plantain chips and shrimp appetizers, but save room for the sugary tres leches at dessert.

Chef Duy Van Pham may be Vietnamese, but his food couldn’t be more French if he were cooking at Le Cordon Bleu. Pham has settled in at Tante Louise very nicely, helping the old aunt preserve her thirty-year-old reputation for serving the best French food in town. From the charcuterie plate to the fruit tarts, a meal at the AAA four-diamond and Mobil four-star Tante Louise includes everything from haute to not, with a bit of American and Asian whimsy thrown in for good measure. Try the délices françaises of garlic confit white-bean soup, lobster mashed potatoes and foie-gras-stuffed tenderloin, and don’t be afraid to ask sommelier Emma Healion for a wine recommendation from her 600-bottle roster. Enjoy your meal in the romantic, elegant atmosphere of a French country inn just minutes from downtown.

Italian food is more than spaghetti and meatballs. A lot more. And Panzano, which is named for a small wine town in Chianti, proves it with inspired, well-executed dishes that evoke what you might find at the finest inns of Tuscany. Panzano is lucky to have chef Jennifer Jasinski do the translating: She relies on bold flavors, rich sauces and just the right touch with herbs to create such elaborate dishes as mezzaluna pasta stuffed with roasted Kabocha squash, mascarpone, three-nut brown butter, Amaretti di Saronno cookies, Parmigiano-Reggiano and fried sage. If that doesn’t grab you, how about chicken breast rolotini with currants, pine nuts, pancetta and Parmigiano, accompanied by a salad of grilled figs, pecorino and arugula? Match the culinary masterpieces with one of Panzano’s well-chosen Italian wines, and you have a meal that isn’t just Italian — it’s delicious.

The name, which refers to a Japanese green, is your first clue that Mizuna is all over the map, pulling from international flavors and ingredients to make dishes so stunning, they’re over the top. Still, most of the items at this charismatic bistro are inspired by the New American sensibilities of California cuisine, with a heavy reliance on Mediterranean components to pull everything together. The hallmark of chef/part owner Frank Bonanno’s cooking is fresh ingredients, with plenty of butter and cream to carry the flavors; dishes such as crème-fraîche-bolstered mashed potatoes and lobster-enriched macaroni and cheese are perfect examples of this philosophy. Bonanno’s partner, host-with-the-most Doug Fleisch-mann, manages to keep the needy audience pampered and entertained while diners wait for the next delectable dish to come out of the kitchen.

The laid-back Ali Baba Grill cooks up the usual Middle Eastern favorites, but the difference here is that these dishes are absolutely packed with flavor. Creamy, smooth hummus carries a fresh lemon-juice-and-garlic punch, and the baba ghanouj contains eggplant that’s been roasted until it’s nearly caramelized, so that the dip has a deep, sweet quality. The just-made tabbouleh is always tip-top fresh; the kabobs are charbroiled, giving the meats that crunchy edge of extra flavor; and the chicken shawarma is coated in a garlic paste before it’s rotisserie-broiled. Save room for dessert: The housemade baklava and a cup of freshly brewed mint tea make for a relaxing finale.

You won’t miss meat at Masalaa, an all-vegetarian Indian eatery, because everything is so well seasoned that there’s no shortage of flavor. In fact, the name Masalaa means “spice” in Hindu. The kitchen specializes in southern Indian dishes that you rarely find in Denver, as well as superior versions of traditional favorites from all over the South Asian subcontinent. Masalaa spices up such standards as mulligatawny soup, samosas, curries and saag, and makes dosas — crêpes of rice and lentil flour — that are just right for soaking up its fiery mango chutney. Masalaa’s most interesting offerings, though, are the idlys, especially the miniature versions that look like little flying saucers made from rice, and the uthapams, bubbly breads topped with fresh vegetables or cheese. Both come with Masalaa’s superior sambar (a stew made from several types of dal, or legumes, cooked down with many spices). The servers are ready to explain the unfamiliar items that abound at this restaurant, and they are as gracious and welcoming as a warm cup of chai.

Owner Sue Smith goes above and beyond at her simple but spiffy Asian restaurant in the ‘burbs. In dishes such as lobster and crab pot stickers and Vietnamese seafood paella, New Orient presents the flavors of Vietnam in a fresh and innovative way. Don’t expect noodle-house prices: The macadamia-sesame-encrusted walleye or two-mushroom beef tenderloin will set you back a bit. But you won’t find these preparations on any other Vietnamese menu in town.

When we want to Thai one on, we head to Thai Bistro. The dining room is sweet and simple, with greenery for color and just a few Thai touches here and there — but in the kitchen, it’s all Thai, all the time. Chef/owner Lek Phromthong knows his way around sweet-salty-sour-spicy, and he balances those elements to good effect in his multi-layered, deeply flavored dishes. The appetizers, including sumptuous steamed dumplings and deep-fried tofu, are admirable, and the main courses, particularly the curries, are truly a main event. Those curries are heavily, and deliciously, sweetened with coconut milk; Phromthong also has a way with fenugreek, which gives his curries an even more exotic taste. Tell the servers your tolerance for chile heat — they’re happy to adjust dishes to match.

Little Ollie’s woks the walk. The kitchen produces dishes that are incredibly polished, not to mention filled with the best Chinese cooking in town. The steamed fish, stir-fries, sweet spare ribs and black-bean sauces evoke the streets of Hong Kong, but the delivery there surely leaves something to be desired when compared with the gracious, efficient service at Little Ollie’s. The wine list is startlingly well chosen for a Chinese restaurant, too.

A visit to Domo has become a cultural tour of Japan, complete with a Zen garden, an intriguing museum, a jumping sake lounge, an appealing dining room and, now, an extensive sushi selection. Still, chef/owner Gaku Homma continues to focus on creating the most healthful, authentic versions of provincial Japanese foods — yakimono, tojimono, curry, udon — along with saishoku vegetarian items and Wankosushi, Homma’s trademarked take on the country-style sushi of his childhood. Arigato, Domo.

At Fontana Sushi, it seems like almost every hour is happy hour, since the $1 sushi special runs from 6 to 10 p.m. weekdays and 7 p.m. to midnight on weekends. The low price doesn’t mean low quality, though, and while the sushi chefs can be a little slow, and the sushi isn’t always flawlessly assembled, it’s unfailingly fresh and flavorful. Put your money where your mouth is at Fontana.

Fujiyama owner Denny Kang thinks big is better, and he proves it by offering sushi that’s much larger than you get at other sushi bars for the same price — and just as tasty. Enjoy your fish while sitting at the red-topped sushi bar decorated with cute little aquariums, right near a massive, lavender-hued mural of the Japanese mountain that the eatery’s named for. A meal here isn’t quite as massive as Mount Fuji, but it’s a culinary high point nonetheless.

This hip, Hapa-ning chain now has three links (two in Boulder), but we like Hapa’s Cherry Creek sushi bar best. The sushi is always super-fresh, interesting and well executed, offered in cutting-edge combinations that might sound silly but actually work. For starters, there’s the “multiple orgasm,” a tempura-battered sushi roll filled with cream cheese, crab and smoked salmon, all fried and then smothered in a gooey white sauce. Since they have to serve dishes like that, it’s no wonder the sushi chefs are entertaining and friendly, ready to crack a joke or make conversation with the customers (unlike so many knife-wielding crankypants we run into at other places). But Hapa’s real selling point is the scene, which is just plain fun: calm and relaxing at lunch, loud and raucous at dinner, with an L-shaped bar that makes for convenient people-watching.

Roy’s, which came to Cherry Creek by way of Hawaii, is once again the catch of the year for its fresh, well-prepared seafood. We’re always reeled in by the menu’s interesting combinations, including cassoulet made from sea scallops and filet mignon, and broadbill swordfish dusted and pan-fried with mochiko, a rice flour. This classy, elegant restaurant isn’t afraid to offer seafood that landlocked Denver doesn’t often see, such as butterfish (known as Pacific pompano or sablefish); the kitchen’s also adept at turning the tried and true into something new, too, topping Chilean sea bass with grilled eel, for example. Get the net: We’re keeping this one.

Fishing for an interesting dinner? Head to any Whole Foods markets and have a chat with the knowledgeable staffers in the seafood section. They’ll point out a tip-top fresh specimen, perfectly cut, from their dizzying array and then tell you ten different ways to prepare it, along with what other fish might work just as well in the same dish. On any given day, Whole Foods is swimming in the town’s biggest variety of sea creatures, and employees can give you the 411 on any one of them: where it came from, what it ate, how long it’ll keep and what it tastes like. The seafood section also has a tempting array of ready-made delicacies, including a fabulous calamari salad and party-worthy dips and spreads. And for those who like it raw, the sushi-grade octopus, eel, salmon and tuna are a cut above anyone else’s.

Midopa is an excellent Asian market specializing in Korean and Japanese ingredients, with a killer housemade kim chee and inexpensive, fresh sushi sitting in a case near the front counter. But Midopa also stocks the best selection of hard-to-find animal parts we’ve ever seen. Necks, backs, feet, knees and other odds and ends from a variety of critters are available at all times, just begging to be plopped into a stock for Vietnamese pho or wrapped in rice paper and fried. No one at Midopa speaks much English, so it pays to know your parts — because when it comes to cooking, parts isn’t parts.

Want a guy who knows his pesto from his prosciutto? Need a vegetarian woman? Head straight to Tony’s, the best meat/meet market in town, a mecca for the lonely looking for a date (or at least dinner). Every weekend, singles converge around the ready-made soups and pasta sauces in the frozen-foods section of this massive gourmet grocery store, checking out both the culinary and cuddling options. At Tony’s, it’s much easier to narrow down your choices than it is in a bar: You know he likes to cook if his cart is full of spices from the extensive selection here, and you know she’s a morning person if hers has plenty of upscale jams and fresh-baked pastries. Sidle up to a cutie by the free samples and ask for her number; if it’s a go, you can always pick out dinner together.

Fred Deligio is the quintessential neighborhood butcher, a guy who really cares about his customers, always remembering how you like your steaks cut and when you need pork butt instead of loin. At Fred’s Fine Meats, he brings in Choice-grade meat and ages it for three weeks himself; he also makes his own Italian and German sausages and bratwurst. Need a specialty sausage? Give Fred the recipe and he’ll custom-stuff it to your specs — and it will taste just like what your Polish grandma used to turn out. Fred’s chickens come from Red Bird Farms (he’ll cook them rotisserie-style for you), and he also offers only American lamb — none of that frozen stuff from New Zealand — and Boar’s Head deli meats. Need elk, buffalo or duck liver? He can get it. And at the end of every transaction, Fred always says, “You take care.” We will, because he does.

Good things come in small packages, and European Mart proves it. This tiny store is crammed with smoked fish and sauerkraut, kasha and Danish cheeses, even Swiss specialties and Hungarian tidbits tracked down by owner Dmitry Gershengorin — and the deli case is full of imported meats, pretty cakes and other baked items. Because Glendale boasts a sizable Russian population, the Mart also stocks Moscow’s newspapers and Russian dolls. Caviar fans should ask if there’s any on hand: Gershengorin often has the best price on fish eggs in town.

Walking into Vinnola’s Market is like traveling back in time to an East Coast-style deli of decades past. Everyone’s friendly and yelling and laughing; deli workers are passing slices of cheese and salami over the counter for inspection by little old blue-haired Italian ladies. Those goods always pass muster: The smallish market carries all of the important imported meats and cheeses — Asiago and mortadella, mozzarella and prosciutto — as well as olive oil and balsamico, fresh-baked Italian bread and cookies, and fresh and dried pasta. Stop by at lunchtime, and one of Vinnola’s overstuffed sandwiches will see you through the rest of your shopping.

If you can’t find an Asian ingredient at the Asian Supermarket, that ingredient simply doesn’t exist. This vast warehouse of a grocery store stocks forty kinds of rice noodles alone, all haphazardly jammed into one aisle. Unfamiliar cans of squishy-looking ingredients share space with forty-pound bags of rice and twenty brands of coconut milk. Several aisles are devoted to plastic and ceramic dishes, woks, utensils, chopsticks and steamers, all at bargain prices. The produce is well-priced, too, especially limes, Asian basil, daikon and ginger, and the dried-mushroom section is a delight for fungi fans. Don’t forget to stop by the meat counter, which displays an impressive selection of fresh fish and meats.

Shopping at Arash Supermarket is like going on a treasure hunt: You never know what you’ll find tucked away in some corner. The bustling store is bursting with Middle Eastern items, from locally baked pitas the size of pizzas to imported and domestic feta to many types of tahini to real basmati rice. Produce here is much cheaper than at the big chain grocery stores — lemons and limes, lettuce and tomatoes are noteworthy bargains — as are kalamatas, yogurt drinks, pickles and olive oil. A few non-Middle Eastern ingredients, including Mexican crema and Italian lunchmeats, are also on hand. Check out the unique, commercially baked goods on the shelves near the cashiers: The exotic little cookies and unusual sweets are special treats for kids.

Have a hankering to imitate some of Café Brazil’s dishes in your own kitchen? You’ll quickly realize that many of the required ingredients — from the elusive dendê, the lighthearted palm oil that lends its warm orange color and irreplaceable zesty tropical flavor to Brazilian seafood dishes, to farinha de manioca, the ground manioc meal that, toasted, becomes the essential table condiment farofa — are harder to find than a table at the restaurant on a Saturday night. Thanks to Emporio Minas, though, there’s no reason to cut your samba short. This hole-in-the-wall market, three little rooms with metal shelving that could well be found in a São Paulo garage, has all that stuff and more: coconut milk, sticky-sweet dulce de leche; the Portuguese sausages, salt-cured beef and carioca beans called for in classic feijoada; guava paste and pickled malagueta peppers, not to mention maté drinks, olives, cookies, chocolate and even nail polish. Oh, yeah, there’s something else you can count on finding: every homesick Brazilian east of the Continental Divide.