Denver’s ethnic eateries sneak up on you. La Praviana (first reviewed in Westword on May 20, 1999) is a stand-alone joint facing Broadway that in a previous life was a breakfast bar called the Omelet House. Then Hector and Maritza Gil took over, and today it still does three-a-day service…
“Lucky Star.” “Shining Star!” “The Star Chamber.” “Enough,” I said. “Star Quality!” I held up a hand. “That just sucks. Okay, who’s got that key lime thing?” The decimated remains of a key lime tart were passed my way, and I pressed my thumb into the crumbs, then licked off…
Normally I avoid opening events like the PR plague they are. Soft openings, hard openings, grand openings, invitation-only VIP openings — all really just code words for the same thing: amateur night. While I understand the necessity of openings and the point of such parties (everyone has to have a…
Black Pearl is the newest gem on Old South Pearl, a street full of jewels. The restaurant is beautiful, highly stylized, sleek and modern, with Zen-like enhancements — the wall of backlit bottles in the bar, for example, and the patio with a community table complete with an ultra-cool fire…
When the planets align, Institute members answer that primal call to go out and get overserved — no matter what else may be going on, and no matter who drops the organizational ball. On this particular evening, it was JP and me — but our group somehow still convened at…
Cafe Star (see review) was brought to us by the same people who opened Trattoria Stella six years ago. And while there’s not anything wrong with Stella (in fact, there’s a lot I really like about it), if I were told to pick two places on absolute opposite ends of…
When I reach Tom Bird, owner of Pho Fusion, the first thing he does is apologize. He’s sorry that the place doesn’t look the way he’d like it to. It’s kind of empty, not yet finished to his satisfaction. “I know, you walk in and you can see that it’s…
We are a highly mobile people these days. Not many of us are now where we were yesterday (or yestermonth or yesteryear), and we feel this displacement in weird ways. For example, I’m always gripped by a wicked wave of homesickness in the middle of October, right around the time…
When I heard there was a new Vietnamese restaurant named Parallel 17, I wondered why anyone would saddle a place with such a horrible reminder of war. I also wondered if the owners would have gone with the same name if the restaurant were located on Monroe Street instead of…
No one here at the Institute of Drinking Studies is dumb enough to admit that he is a virgin. In fact, I’d guess that every representative has had carnal knowledge of someone, and I’d also guess that most members are fairly prolific, if not proficient. I base this on a…
After eating pad thai everywhere from Noodles & Co. to Alameda Square, I thought that maybe I just didn’t like pad thai. I suspected that all the pad thai I’d put away over the years had probably been just fine, and that I — being the bumbling dimwit that I…
I love expensive cheeses. The good ones — cave-aged, smeared in ash, riddled with veins of carefully tended mold, rubbed down by nuns and Italian virgins in towns whose names I can barely pronounce, made from the milk of animals whose teats I wouldn’t squeeze on a dare. Cashel Blue,…
Last summer I stumbled across Mike Frislie at the Bugling Bull Trading Post, where he was working the drum grill and smoker out on Highway 67 (1668 North Highway 67 in Sedalia, to be precise) and cooking up burgers, brats and some of the best damn barbecue I’d ever tasted…
Never trust a guy who drinks a Bubble-Lee. Over the years, I’ve adopted a couple of clear-cut rules about guys. They must be willing to suffer through at least one theatrical performance a season and at least pretend to enjoy it. They cannot have more piercings than I do. They…
I am a big fan of Mexican culture. It’s brought us Taco Bell (a legal form of crack), sombreros for any occasion, MTV Spring Break in Cancún and uncounted Girls Gone Wild videos, as well as the Latin Representative to the Institute of Drinking Studies. But some imports from south…
No local discourse on comfort food would be complete without a few words regarding the humble breakfast burrito. And while there are many, many places in town that serve up great breakfast burritos at all hours of the day and night, this week I’m stumping for one that may be…
I hate admitting that I’m wrong. Up to this point in my somewhat spotty career, I would have insisted that certain rules govern a restaurant’s survival. A space that can only be located by satellite photography is never going to make it. A fusion menu that fuses the cuisines of…
So how is it that Tin Star (see review, page 57), a Tex-Mex chain outfit from Dallas, and John Jourde, a first-time restaurateur more comfortable around software reps than line cooks, came together in Colorado to create a place that so impressed me? Good question. Rich Hicks opened the original…
The second I walked into Steak au Poivre, I expected a diminutive man in a white suit to run past me, pointing into the air and screaming “Da plane, da plane!” The ambience of the place is very Fantasy Island, complete with wicker chairs, a big palm in the corner…
We all pine for simpler days, like those in high school when our only real worries were what to wear, who was engaging in heavy petting with whom (or, better yet, actually doing the deed), who you were going to stuff in his locker that day, when you were going…
Although fast-casual Mex is all the rage today — and with good reason, in the case of Tin Star — there was a time not long ago when Denver was inundated with white-tablecloth Mexican joints. But they were still years behind Las Brisas, which opened in 1987 and has real…
We have reservations for dinner — just the two of us, prime time on a Saturday night — but we don’t need them. Three months to the day after the opening of Nine75 — the high-gloss, high-concept, locationally challenged and oh-so-eager-to-please cafe/bistro that took over the former home of the…
