Only in Denver. Certain things — Crocs, Mayor John Hickenlooper, Elway’s steakhouse — could only come out of Colorado. Others, like 99-cent strip-mall sushi and Western states hockey, seem anachronistic, yet flourish here regardless. But I’ve been a lot of places and seen a lot of things. And while I’m…
Different kind of neighborhood, different kind of neighborhood restaurant. While Cowbobas (see review, page 55) is all about feeding the locals what they want, so is Elway’s. And chef Tyler Wiard and his crew have put together a new menu that speaks right to the primal needs of Cherry Creekers:…
Crocs, Mayor John Hickenlooper, Elway’s steakhouse — could only come out of Colorado. Others, like 99-cent strip-mall sushi and Western states hockey, seem anachronistic in this state, yet flourish here regardless. But I’ve been a lot of places and seen a lot of things. And while I’m thinking hard, I…
Chefs and restaurant owners are competitive animals by nature and disposition. Not Iron Chef, cooking-contest competitive — not just lighted-stage, rule-book and panel-of-judges competitive — but seriously, almost compulsively, knock-down, drag-out Thunderdome bloodthirsty. In a successful restaurant, there’s no room for sentiment or surrender (except on the menu). And in…
With a pizza from the Oven, certain bites will linger in the memory as among the best bites ever. Not every pizza, and not every bite. But once in a while, when the stars are aligned and the food gods are smiling, you take a bite from one of the…
I n a perfect world, everything would come wrapped in bacon. Wrapped in bacon or topped with bacon or with a side of bacon, because everything is better with bacon. What’s better than shrimp? Shrimp wrapped in bacon. What’s the only way to make vegetarian food palatable? Top it with…
It had been too long since I last dropped by Taqueria Patzcuaro. I go into north Denver a lot these days, chasing after some new Chinese-Brazilian fusion restaurant or an intriguing-sounding soup, then end up drinking sake at Swimclub32 or eating at Duo, forgetting why I came up in the…
At my last job, my boss had a butcher’s diagram of a broken-down pig tattooed on her ass. I worked on the line with another guy who had PORK inked across the knuckles of his right hand. And in my family, bacon is how we show our love for one…
I ‘ve eaten tandoori while driving and samosa in bed. I’ve made entire meals of naan and puri and yogurt. During a brief stint as an unwilling vegetarian (I did it for a girl, mostly because the only thing on earth better than pork is pussy, and I had to…
There are restaurants that win me over quickly — love at first bite, or damn close to it. There are other restaurants I have to ease into slowly, coming around to their flavors or unique takes on cuisine by the end of the meal. And then there are places that…
I’ve eaten tandoori while driving and samosa in bed. I’ve made entire meals of naan and puri and yogurt. During a brief stint as an unwilling vegetarian (I did it for a girl, mostly because the only thing on earth better than pork is pussy, and I had to give…
The latest location for Tokyo Joe’s is a killer. It’s in the new Southlands Mall development, at the back of the so-called plaza that sits like a box canyon at the end of a natural retail bottleneck; buyers and window-shoppers, tourists and locals alike all funnel into this zone from…
When Larry Leith says his idea for Tokyo Joe’s — a fast-casual Japanese rice- and noodle-bowl joint– came out of nowhere (see review, page 50), he may be overlooking a Colorado mini-chain called Kokoro. Founded by Mareo Torito a full decade before Leith opened his first shop, Kokoro has specialized…
I witnessed the kind of chaos that would completely shatter any normal restaurant crew: dining rooms filled to double-capacity, lines stretching out the door, crowds waiting out on the sidewalks and absolutely no room to move on the floor. The Southlands outpost of Tokyo Joe’s is designed like a Ginza…
My meals at Tokyo Joe’s — which I review in the next issue — were among the least interesting things I found when I braved the wilds of the new Southlands development. The grand-opening festivities were like the Do Loung bridge sequence in Apocalypse Now, a crowded, freaked-out mess about…
I’ve been a fan of Ya Hala since it opened more than a year ago. I liked it when it was still just an ugly, stained cement bunker with the (often inaccurate) hours painted on its back; when I would drive by and see bums sprawled in the little half-alley…
I have seen many things at Pete’s Kitchen. I’ve witnessed fights and the first tentative, groping moments of new (and no doubt highly temporary) love affairs. I’ve eaten shoulder-to-shoulder with famous folk, sprung for dinner for bums and had a group of transvestites buy me pie. I’ve been there on…
On innumerable occasions, I’ve tried to enjoy baklava and managed not to do so, always finding it too sweet or too sticky or too spiked with rosewater, too goopy or too stiff. Finally, I’d gotten to the point where I’d assumed baklava was just not to my taste — like…
Sometimes these weekly missives are about time and the progression through it of a menu, a chef, an address. Sometimes they’re about history, which isn’t the same as time, because time is smooth and steady, and history is, well, bumpy. History is the story of peaks and jags in time,…
The original New York Pizzeria on Leetsdale Boulevard — huddled among the liquor stores, taquerías and liquor stores — was a classic hole-in-the-wall. Seating was scant and the tile floors powdered with flour; orders were taken, processed and served at the wall-to-wall counter; and always hanging in the air was…
Sometimes these weekly missives are about time and the progression through it of a menu, a chef, an address. Sometimes they’re about history, which isn’t the same as time, because time is smooth and steady, and history is, well, bumpy. History is the story of peaks and jags in time,…
I checked out Buenos Aires Grill (see “Grill of My Dreams,” September 21) again on Wednesday — this time for lunch, which I’d somehow missed during my first whirlwind tour through owner Francis Carrera’s beautifully appointed Argentine fine- dining restaurant. And while almost everything I loved at dinner (bacalao and…
