After all, in keeping with Silks's top-of-the-line status, Mattie's charges top dollar (for Denver, at least). But it was brought to us by the folks who own LoDo's Bar and Grill (right next door to Mattie's) and Croc's Mexican Grill (three blocks down Market Street), two eateries not exactly known for their refined, upscale cuisine. In fact, LoDo's and Croc's cater to the Rockies-loving, beer-swilling, let's-party crowds--while Mattie's has set itself up as the kind of elegant, genteel dining experience that hasn't been attempted in this part of town since, oh, the original Mattie Silks included fine foods as part of her repertoire.
But it turns out that owners Javier Juarez, George Mannion and Chris Myers knew what they were doing when they took on this challenge. The space is lovely. The food that comes out of the kitchen--they lured fourteen-year kitchen veteran Kip Wotanowicz from south Florida to be their executive chef--is even lovelier, fantastically innovative and consistent. The wine list is well-chosen, and the service is impeccable.
Does the earth move at Mattie's? Yes I say yes.
But first, some foreplay. Local legend has it that this small two-story building was built by "friends"--acquired possibly through good old-fashioned blackmail and extortion--of infamous Denver madam Jennie Rogers, who was looking to establish a parlor house that would outdo the one belonging to her rival, Silks. In 1889 Rogers got her House of Mirrors, and she ran it until about 1910. Silks then bought the place and reigned supreme until 1915, when the national inclination toward morality finally reached the West and Denver's red-light district shifted to other, less prominent parts of the city.
Last year, the old bordello was finally saved from squalor. According to Juarez, who was wandering about during my first visit for dinner, there was nothing left of the original interior worth saving. "We decided to try to stay true to the spirit and nature of the place," he said. "We've duplicated many of the features and worked with the Colorado Historical Society to make sure as much of it looks as authentic as possible." The owners relied on old photos to guide a restoration of the facade, which needs a few Denver winters to age it a bit but otherwise evokes the time period pretty well. Inside, the transformation is complete: Ornate turn-of-the-century-style woodwork, three fireplaces around the bar area and a color scheme of warm beiges and yellows conspire for a cozy atmosphere that makes you want to slip into something more comfortable--which then would be reflected in the mirrors that cover the ceilings and most of the walls on the first floor. I think these fixtures may be a little more evocative of the old brothel than the owners intended, however: More than once, I saw ladies looking up in alarm to see that their cleavage was bouncing off the ceiling.
But once the food arrived, all eyes remain glued to the table. The most impressive dish was an appetizer of Southwest duck "cigars" ($7.95): seasoned, shredded, grilled duck meat rolled in tortillas and fried crispy. These taquitos-with-an-attitude came with a black-bean-and-corn salsa and a ribbon of mildly garlicky cilantro pesto; the combination was stunning. Only slightly less remarkable were the wild-mushroom crepes ($7.95): plush crepe shells filled with pungent 'shrooms pumped up with parsley, tarragon, chervil and chives (the fines herbes) and mascarpone cheese.
Savvy merging also made the blue crabcakes ($10.95) a marvel, with a mildly spicy mango sauce providing extra dash for the succulent crabmeat that otherwise had been wisely left alone; the accompanying basmati rice cakes weren't as dry as these cakes can frequently be, thanks to the kitchen's use of a stickier type of rice. The Asian spring rolls ($8.95)--as opposed to German, hmmm?--boasted more of Mattie's astute matchmaking. Crunchy shells encased sweet shrimp that went perfectly with the sharp wasabe aioli and a yin-yang mini-salad of cucumber and oranges.
With the Colorado lamb chops ($20.95), the kitchen made its only misstep of the evening. Although I'd ordered the meat medium-rare, the five slim chops arrived almost raw. But they tasted so great--filled with lamby flavor that a longer date with the grill cooks right out--that I didn't even mention it to the waiter until later. (And besides, what more appropriate place for red-blooded meat than an old whorehouse?) The chops came with wild-rice griddle cakes that were simple and filling, along with mascarpone-drenched roasted apples and a sweet and tart cherry vinaigrette. The tender filet mignon ($24.95) arrived just as ordered, fortified by a smooth, rich Madeira sauce, oniony potato pancakes and plenty of gorgonzola.
Our pasta entrees were less pricy but just as exquisite. The capellini with grilled chicken ($11.95) had been tossed with apple-smoked bacon, sweet corn, roasted peppers and basil, the essences of which had seeped into a very light tomato cream sauce. But the real standout was the chicken, a flawless, textbook example of how chicken should be treated--so that the meat doesn't dry out but is still cooked enough to not pose a health hazard. In the penne with Gulf shrimp ($13.95), the true star didn't even get top billing: Portabello mushrooms had been cooked just until they released their juices into a cream sauce that was heavier than the capellini's, this one sparked with champagne. Yellow tomatoes and roasted red peppers completed the party flavors.
At this point, dessert was not an option. But then, we'd already been completely satisfied by our evening with Mattie.
I returned with some friends for a long, leisurely lunch. At this meal you get even more bang for your buck, since Wotanowicz's dishes are just as ambitious but less costly. We started with heavy, cheesy herb rolls--along with the desserts, they're made by pastry chef Stefan Miller--that more than held their own against the sharply garlicky Caesar salad ($3.75). The attractively assembled house salad ($3.75) came with one of those gloriously nebulous vinaigrettes that tastes not of one ingredient but a slick combination of many. The roasted eggplant soup ($3.50) arrived lukewarm rather than hot, but its toasty taste and creamy finish made it impossible to stop spooning it up long enough to send it back to the kitchen.
A lunch entree of crab cakes ($11.25) brought a variation on the ones I'd tried at dinner. Once again, the crab was barely touched (although these cakes seemed a smidgen smaller), but this time the dressing was a ginger-tinged apple concoction that was also great on the sides of carrot slaw and red-pepper-sweetened spinach. The capellini with four tomatoes ($8.25) arrived bursting with flavor (see Mouthing Off for the recipe), with just the right amount of tomato tartness and goat-cheese richness, all set off by balsamic vinegar. Another dish, the grilled chicken and asparagus with buckwheat-noodle salad ($8.75), came dressed in a well-balanced sweet and salty soy sauce. And the lemon-caper sauce on the grilled trout ($11.75) alone was worth the price of that dish, it was so rich and creamy.
More seductive richness arrived in the form of a dense, fudgy flourless chocolate cake ($4.50) and the lemon cheesecake ($3.95). We were less moved by the white chocolate cake ($4.50), which was dry and bland, although the scoop of vanilla-bean ice cream on the side was fine. The ice-cream-filled profiteroles ($3.95), though, looked like something that had been batted out of nearby Coors Field. The three pastry puffs were still frozen almost solid, and what had thawed was dry.
But all told, it was another exceptional meal--and the ideal way to spend a nooner. Since these days, eating is about the only safe sexual activity there is, it pays to put yourself in the hands of a professional like Mattie.
Mattie's House of Mirrors, 1942 Market Street, 303-297-9600. Hours: 11 a.m.-2 p.m., 5-10 p.m. Monday-Friday; 5-10 p.m. Saturday.
