In the Best of Denver 2007, I touted Yo Philly, the sandwich shop inside a Conoco station run by Jerry Cheryl, and followed up a few weeks later with this warning: “If you haven’t yet made the scene, you should. My only fear is that someday this gas-station counter will…
Of the many contributions of the Irish to world culture—from colcannon and those silly snap-brim tweed hats of which my father is so fond to the music of the Pogues and the films of Jim Sheridan—I don’t think anyone would argue with my saying that whiskey is the best. There’s…
My friend and the waitress were still talking about recycling, about the re-use and re-application of found objects, cast-off materials. And though I was concentrating on the food, some of their conversation must’ve penetrated, because I found myself thinking about recycling, too. About the salvage and reclamation of forgotten things…
While most of the Best of Denver 2008 fallout has been outside the office, there’s been plenty of talk here at Bite Me World HQ regarding my Best Green Chile award for Jack-n-Grill. Backbeat editor Dave Herrera takes it very personally when I say things about Colorado-style verde being just…
For the first time in 25 years, Westword’s readers showed the collective good taste to choose something other than McDonald’s french fries as the Best French Fries.Their choice? Bistro Vendome, which makes its delicious fries even more addictive with a salty/sweet sprinkle of spices. The editorial choice for Best French…
Every year, our work on the Best of Denver reminds us of not just what’s new and wonderful in this city, but what we’ve lost — although you don’t see the latter in the final issue. We just take note of the dearly departed as we research, then discard, potential…
When I was growing up, my family and I spent most weekends at our summer cottage in the Thousand Islands region of upstate New York. When I tell people this, they imagine a tanned and happy nuclear unit cavorting on the manicured lawn of a nice Cape Cod on the…
Both spots were serving the same purpose, separated by two dozen years and a million miles of desire. That old grocery store was dedicated to its community of farmers, drunks, rednecks and fishermen, just as Fisher Clark tends to the needs of the yuppies, old folks, new money and urban/suburban…
While Denver itself frequently ranks in national polls for having one of the biggest St. Patrick’s Day celebrations, none of our local Irish pubs ever get so much as nod from out-of-towners. Whatever, we don’t need some national booze critic to tell us where to get soused. For a town…
The host at French 250 is young — new to the business, I think, because as he walks me down the narrow space between tables, I can see that he doesn’t yet have the smooth grace of the servers, who move like dancers: smoothly, fluidly, and with the confidence of…
Vietnamese cuisine had a long, noble history before the French arrived in the 1940s and launched their ill-fated adventures through Indochina. But the French army didn’t just come with rifles, trucks and funny hats; they were also considerate enough to bring along their cuisine. Though historians would no doubt disagree…
“Is this your first time dining with us?” she asks, smiling. In response, I just bob my head like a moron—completely gone on whatever weird cocktail of hormones and brain chemicals it is that makes a grown man fall in love with a menu, with nothing more than words on…
Denver has had newspaper wars for as long as there have been newspapers, and just because the size of the papers is shrinking doesn’t mean this war is any less intense. But another, newer battle between media outlets took place last week, and it was even more…heated. The Women’s Bean…
Mel Master, current owner of three restaurants in metro Denver, former owner of a half-dozen more in Denver and Manhattan, wine guy, ex-street musician, enthusiastic raconteur of all things boozy and delicious, and the guy I blame for loosing Bobby Flay on the world, is not in the house tonight…
Originally, my review of Agave Grill was supposed to be a two-fer — a kind of culinary Entebbe Raid whereby Laura and I would roll in fast on slow nights to the King Soopers plaza at Orchard and Holly, where both Agave and Mel’s Greenwood Village incarnation are located, have…
About three weeks ago, Chad Clevenger put Agave Grill through a mid-season menu overhaul, altering or outright dumping about two-thirds of the opening board. While the result could have been a return to the mixed Chihuahua-meets-Lyon Old World/New World fusion of the Cherry Creek Mel’s during Clevenger’s days there, he…
I wanted cheeseburgers. Cheeseburgers and beer, a shot of whiskey. Laura wanted Mexican food — chips and salsa, top-shelf mezcal and tamales. New Mexican would’ve been all right with her. A bowl of pozole, a plate of tacos and thee. She was chasing after some memory of our destitution and…
Crepes ‘n Crepes is uncompromisingly, unabashedly and unstintingly French. The cooks are French. Owners Kathy Knight and Alain Veratti have imported all their iron crepe griddles from France. The ingredients and preparations — the Camembert and Chambord, ratatouille and sauce aux champignons — are French. And the space itself –…
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m now old enough to remember when a pizza was just a pizza, a round crust (though the occasional square-crust party pizza was okay, too) that was always thin, but not too thin (certainly no cracker crusts, and outside of the high-school cafeteria,…
Anthony’s Pizza and Pasta (or, as it’s known around my house, “Ant-anees”) has long been my reliable Denver standby for New York-style pizza in a hurry. Do the locations do slices? Yes. Do they offer the triumvirate of New York styles? Absolutely: a thin-crust cheese and pepperoni, a thin-crust double-cheese,…
As reported in Off Limits this week, absinthe is now legal in the United States! And I don’t mean that phony shit that’s like anisette dyed green or that Eastern European stuff that tastes like cough syrup or that legally gray gunk shipped under cover and marketed specifically for its…
I remember the first time I saw someone eating a pizza with pineapple on it. My friend Nick was sitting in his living room in Buffalo with a sixer of Molson Export and Beverly Hills 90210 on the TV, eating a Hawaiian pizza from La Nova covered with thin-sliced ham…
