Mason jars, growing fresh rosemary, oregano and basil, perch on the marbled window counter, which overlooks the patio (it, too, will be flush with fresh herbs and vegetables next spring) that, once the weather turns balmy, will be exposed through the garage door that also peers over the weathered tables and chairs that now occupy it. Reclaimed oak benches fringe the perimeter of the room, each of them graced with hand-sewn napkins that display the Olive & Finch name. A live-edge, twelve-seat community table, hand-crafted from sassafras trees, poses in the middle; antique light fixtures, including a pair of lustrous chandeliers and a crystal-beaded pearl display, beam down below; an opaque mirror, shipped from France, graces one wall; and the floors, which are porcelain, mimic aged wood. Circular shadowboxes nesting with birds -- finches, of course, and owls -- and tin, weathered letters that spell everything from "food" to "Olive and Finch" squat on the shelves.
And that's just the dining room, a respite, says Nguyen, that encourages prolonged relaxation. "This is a cafe" -- not an upscale restaurant -- she stresses. "I want people to come in, get a cup of coffee and plug in their computers, and if they want to camp out for three or four hours, that's perfectly okay. This is a community-driven cafe, and we want people to feel like they're a part of that community," she adds.
But good luck coming in here and just ordering a coffee, because there are just way too many temptations to make your eyes bulge and your stomach grumble. And the food -- salads, soups, sandwiches, pastries and breakfast dishes -- is the kind of sustenance that your body hungers for. Nguyen, who has food allergies, opened Olive & Finch to cater to others with food allergies, a niche, she says, that's underserved. "There are some amazing restaurants in Denver, but it's expensive to eat out, especially for those of us with dietary restrictions, and there aren't a lot of casual places where you can get great, healthy and fresh food -- that segment is missing -- and that's what I'm offering here: "quick, fresh, whimsical, healthy, good and affordable food in a chef-driven cafe."
All but one her sandwiches can be ordered on a gluten-free baguette; salads are heaped with vegetables and grains; fresh herbs appear in just about everything; and she's even curing her own pastrami and braising her own beef tongue. Speaking of that beef tongue: If there's one sandwich that you absolutely, positively must try, it's that one. Nguyen braises the tongue for six hours, slips the shards of meat onto a baguette smeared with roasted garlic puree and tarragon aioli and then tops it with arugula leaves, caramelized onions and roasted red peppers. It's the one sandwich that isn't gluten-free (she uses teriyaki sauce), but it's a sandwich that will undoubtedly cultivate a brigade of smitten loyalists.