Best Power Brunch 2005 | Ristorante Amore | Best of Denver® | Best Restaurants, Bars, Clubs, Music and Stores in Denver | Westword
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Power breakfasts -- power anything, really -- have become a cliche in this post-crash recession era that we're struggling through. Gone are the days when businesspeople were flying so high on their own liquid assets and hubris that wasting an hour for breakfast meant wasting an hour that could've otherwise been used for making money. But that doesn't mean the power breakfast has gone the way of the 2000 Nasdaq -- just that the power has moved to other locations, and in the process redefined itself. These days, the real power breakfast is the Sunday brunch served at Ristorante Amore, Greg Goldfogel's small bistro where Cherry Creek's true elite -- the survivors of today's harsh business climate -- meet to eat. Doctors, lawyers, restaurateurs, entrepreneurs and neighbors of every stripe crowd Amore, drawn by its casual ambience and high-grade grub served as though every table were occupied by a captain of industry or a close, personal friend of the house. And while no one is coming here to show off, Amore is the kind of place where business just happens -- between friends and over some of the best eggs Benny in town.

Power breakfasts -- power anything, really -- have become a cliche in this post-crash recession era that we're struggling through. Gone are the days when businesspeople were flying so high on their own liquid assets and hubris that wasting an hour for breakfast meant wasting an hour that could've otherwise been used for making money. But that doesn't mean the power breakfast has gone the way of the 2000 Nasdaq -- just that the power has moved to other locations, and in the process redefined itself. These days, the real power breakfast is the Sunday brunch served at Ristorante Amore, Greg Goldfogel's small bistro where Cherry Creek's true elite -- the survivors of today's harsh business climate -- meet to eat. Doctors, lawyers, restaurateurs, entrepreneurs and neighbors of every stripe crowd Amore, drawn by its casual ambience and high-grade grub served as though every table were occupied by a captain of industry or a close, personal friend of the house. And while no one is coming here to show off, Amore is the kind of place where business just happens -- between friends and over some of the best eggs Benny in town.

When you want to really tie one on with a little distinction, head for Ellyngton's. This restaurant in the corner of the Brown Palace is all old-world swank, old-school class and jacket-and-tie top-hat dining, and the champagne brunch on Sundays is particularly glam. The linens are soft, the silverware comfortingly heavy, and the whole room seems to drip gold when things are in full swing. From the tiered champagnes (Domaine Chandon, Mot & Chandon and Dom Perignon) and seafood nestled in ice to the white-hats on the carving stations, this is a brunch like your parents and your grandparents would have saved for very special occasions: elegant, reserved, booze-soaked and, of course, expensive.

When you want to really tie one on with a little distinction, head for Ellyngton's. This restaurant in the corner of the Brown Palace is all old-world swank, old-school class and jacket-and-tie top-hat dining, and the champagne brunch on Sundays is particularly glam. The linens are soft, the silverware comfortingly heavy, and the whole room seems to drip gold when things are in full swing. From the tiered champagnes (Domaine Chandon, Mot & Chandon and Dom Perignon) and seafood nestled in ice to the white-hats on the carving stations, this is a brunch like your parents and your grandparents would have saved for very special occasions: elegant, reserved, booze-soaked and, of course, expensive.


Saturday night may not have been all right, but Sunday brunch will make everything better -- as long as you eat it at Lola. Seven nights a week, chef Jamey Fader serves up sublime coastal Mexican fare at this South Pearl hot spot, and the margaritas coming out of the bar only add fuel to the fire. But on Sunday, from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., Lola mellows out a bit, making it a great place to gather with friends or just gather strength for the week ahead. The fortification starts with a killer Bloody Mary or Maria, with an assortment of add-ins you choose off a dim sum-like menu. And talk about killer: The chicken-fried steak is amazing, a huge slab of tender meat deep-fried in a crispy batter, slathered with chorizo gravy and resting on a three-bean chile. This may also be the first house capable of making fusion French toast: The "Mexi-Toast" is a Nuevo Latino/Southwestern comfort-food collision of griddled bread stuffed with banana-canela cream cheese and fresh berries and topped with vanilla syrup. More delicate fare includes pork enchiladas, tacos and a simple plate of bacon and eggs. But in Lola's festive, friendly environment, even that's a reason to celebrate.

Saturday night may not have been all right, but Sunday brunch will make everything better -- as long as you eat it at Lola. Seven nights a week, chef Jamey Fader serves up sublime coastal Mexican fare at this South Pearl hot spot, and the margaritas coming out of the bar only add fuel to the fire. But on Sunday, from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., Lola mellows out a bit, making it a great place to gather with friends or just gather strength for the week ahead. The fortification starts with a killer Bloody Mary or Maria, with an assortment of add-ins you choose off a dim sum-like menu. And talk about killer: The chicken-fried steak is amazing, a huge slab of tender meat deep-fried in a crispy batter, slathered with chorizo gravy and resting on a three-bean chile. This may also be the first house capable of making fusion French toast: The "Mexi-Toast" is a Nuevo Latino/Southwestern comfort-food collision of griddled bread stuffed with banana-canela cream cheese and fresh berries and topped with vanilla syrup. More delicate fare includes pork enchiladas, tacos and a simple plate of bacon and eggs. But in Lola's festive, friendly environment, even that's a reason to celebrate.

When you can't get away from your desk but just can't stomach another vending-machine lunch, call the Lemon Sisters. For a $10 minimum order, owner Claire Griffin, aka Joy Lemon (there is no sister), will speed over with one of her fresh-made sandwiches, soups or salads. The sandwich menu is solid deli fare, and the soups -- particularly the Thai Pumpkin -- and salads are so special that they more than justify the cost. And if you can escape the office for an hour, a visit to Lemon Sisters is a refreshing break that lets you smell the scones, lemon bars and other treats baking in the oven and enjoy your lunch sitting at one of the tables in the sunny shop.

When you can't get away from your desk but just can't stomach another vending-machine lunch, call the Lemon Sisters. For a $10 minimum order, owner Claire Griffin, aka Joy Lemon (there is no sister), will speed over with one of her fresh-made sandwiches, soups or salads. The sandwich menu is solid deli fare, and the soups -- particularly the Thai Pumpkin -- and salads are so special that they more than justify the cost. And if you can escape the office for an hour, a visit to Lemon Sisters is a refreshing break that lets you smell the scones, lemon bars and other treats baking in the oven and enjoy your lunch sitting at one of the tables in the sunny shop.


Unlike in this country, where ramen is the subsistence cuisine of slackers, potheads and college students, in Japan ramen is a proper meal, one served both on the street and in sit-down ramen restaurants. More than soba, more than udon, the humble ramen noodle is Japan's most culturally identifiable food -- its Big Mac, its mac-and-cheese. But here in Denver, we can enjoy ramen the way it's meant to be eaten at Oshima Ramen, a small, virtually invisible spot that's the only American outlet of a major Japanese chain. Seven bucks buys a huge, steaming bowl of ramen noodles (rolled and cut each morning) in pork, chicken or bonito broth made fresh to the exacting standards of Keiji Oshima, founder of the Tokyo-based company. Many of the ingredients come straight from Japan, and every bowl is made to order. For two dollars more, you can get a side of fierce-gingered pork gyoza dumplings with soy-daikon dipping sauce, making for a less-than-ten-dollar meal that should keep you full long past dinnertime.

Unlike in this country, where ramen is the subsistence cuisine of slackers, potheads and college students, in Japan ramen is a proper meal, one served both on the street and in sit-down ramen restaurants. More than soba, more than udon, the humble ramen noodle is Japan's most culturally identifiable food -- its Big Mac, its mac-and-cheese. But here in Denver, we can enjoy ramen the way it's meant to be eaten at Oshima Ramen, a small, virtually invisible spot that's the only American outlet of a major Japanese chain. Seven bucks buys a huge, steaming bowl of ramen noodles (rolled and cut each morning) in pork, chicken or bonito broth made fresh to the exacting standards of Keiji Oshima, founder of the Tokyo-based company. Many of the ingredients come straight from Japan, and every bowl is made to order. For two dollars more, you can get a side of fierce-gingered pork gyoza dumplings with soy-daikon dipping sauce, making for a less-than-ten-dollar meal that should keep you full long past dinnertime.


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