At Hapa Sushi (see review), you don’t have to worry much about rules. Don’t sneeze on your neighbor’s edamame, don’t lick the help, don’t stick two chopsticks in your top lip and pretend you’re a walrus (they’ve seen it before, Shecky, and no one thinks it’s funny). If you can…
After my friends and I grabbed two open spots at Bowlero Lanes one Saturday night and strapped on our snazzy rental shoes, we placed a friendly little wager: The losing team must buy the next round. And even with a 49-point spread to make up for my ball-handling deficiencies, my…
Now that Halloween is over, I’m sure you’re counting the days left during which every Target, Barnes & Noble and Best Buy will be filled with a miserable quagmire of people who are apparently unaware that other humans populate the Earth — running you down with their shopping carts, blasting…
If you’re going to drink alcohol, do it before noon.” Ordinarily, receiving this medical advice from your doctor would be a dream come true, like having your dentist tell you to work half days and eat rock candy to save your teeth. But not now. In suggesting the cocktail brunch,…
Key West today is not my kind of place. For starters, while I love the ocean, I’m not a beach-community kinda guy — not a guy tuned to that Endless Summer, quasi-Caribbean, Jimmy Buffett-and-a-strawberry-daiquiri vibe. Trust me, the last thing any of you nice people want to see is my…
I didn’t get out last weekend, and I doubt that you did, either, because we are apparently under biological attack. I don’t know for sure where this bug came from, but it’s probably hell. The bug ravages your body until you’re so sensitive that even your hair hurts and you…
I love snakes. Not big boa constrictors or mammoth pythons, but cute little green tree snakes about as long as a ruler. I’ve owned two, both of which met untimely deaths — but those are stories for another day. I’d never thought of mixing my fondness for reptiles with my…
There’s a colossal amount of stuff I don’t know. Seriously. A lot. And I’m not talking about the specialized, esoteric knowledge that only a few specialized, esoteric people possess. I’m not talking about being able to translate dead languages, suss out the weight of distant stars, or speak at length…
The original Brewery Bar closed right around the time I was born. What information I have about its glory days comes mainly from historical documents, Web archives and the spotty memories of its habitués. It was a beer-soaked neighborhood watering hole that took up residence in the old Tivoli brewery…
I was sitting at my little two-top lonelyheart’s table at Brewery Bar II, nursing an afternoon beer and waiting to hear the perfect song. Something deep and meaningful. Tom Waits, maybe. A cut off Nighthawks at the Diner. Or maybe something from Springsteen’s Nebraska. What I got instead was Poco’s…
After spending an afternoon downing Old Fashions with the ladies who lunch at the Washington Park Grille, I was just like Rhett Butler: I didn’t give a damn about anything else I had to do that day. Rumored to have been created for a retired Confederate general who didn’t care…
In our continuing effort to improve the human race, we here at the Institute for Drinking Studies are eager to answer those questions that all of us have after seven straight hours of drinking. In the aftermath of a very liquid weekend at Govnr’s Park Restaurant (672 Logan Street), Dr…
Here’s some advice for all the aspiring chefs in the crowd. Want a cinch gig in the kitchen? Go to Switzerland, the home of fondue-style cooking. If there’s an easier path to cash for a chef than setting up a fondue joint, I haven’t heard of it. That’s because no…
Okay, so you’ve got this great concept for a nightclub — an Austro-Bulgarian hip-hop joint, some all-Japanese speed-metal sushi bar, whatever — but no place to set up shop. Well, I’ve got good news for you: a zillion square feet just opened up in a prime location at the Denver…
Harking back to my Irish roots (in case you’re interested, Dunn means “brown” in Gaelic) on a blustery fall evening, I headed to Fadó Irish Pub for a stiff drink and comfort food. After settling into a secluded booth not far from the blazing fireplace, I ordered a Screw the…
When purchasing a home, you must consider many points. The location needs to be somewhere you’ll feel safe — and must also have good resale value. When the time comes to sell, it’s difficult to cut a deal if your potential buyers are abducted from the back yard or clipped…
It’s Saturday night and it’s raining — long, vicious sheets of water not just falling, but slapping the ground as if the pavement had said something nasty about the rain cloud’s mother. I’d made the dash from my car to the door in a scuttling hunch — the way you…
They came in the dead of night, ready for war, in a rented minivan. They wore rubber gloves, hats, surgical masks and special-issue combat Birkenstocks, forsaking their customary Phish concert T-shirts and Guatemalan peasant dresses for basic black — the formalwear of today’s fashionable domestic terrorist. They marched in grim…
Fruitcake vendors swear by Christmas, and turkey sellers depend on Thanksgiving. But Phil Kellogg lives for Halloween, which is also National Caramel Apple Day. Phil and his mom, Linda Kellogg, are the folks behind the Daffy Apple, a caramel-coated fruit that’s tickled local fancies every fall for fifty years. But…
In swank locales around the world, it’s common to see distinguished-looking older gentlemen escorting young, buxom blondes. And high in the hills of Aspen last weekend, I found myself a benefactor that took great care of me: the Aspen Sugar Daddy. A specialty at the affluent, Western-style Range, this sweet…
Sitting at the Bull & Bush (4700 Cherry Creek Drive South) with several friends and co-workers, I indulged in my favorite stress-relieving activity outside of directly setting fire to taxpayers’ money: pondering all of life’s difficult questions. My thoughts were even more profound than usual, owing to the fact that…
Oh, I like this. It’s like having dinner in L.A. or something.” I blink, look around the room. “What?” “This place. I like it. It feels like we’re in L.A.” “Or something,” I reply, then lapse back into silence, feeling shifty and uncomfortable while trying — and succeeding, at least…
