Denver Date

My lovely wife and I celebrated our 3-year anniversary on May 25^th with a Sunday afternoon jaunt in Denver. I usually prefer to write about locales I visit when working farther from home, but we had such a fun time exploring a vibrant section of the Mile-High City, I thought I’d write up the details to share.

To start off our kid-free date event, we visit a friend celebrating her birthday and recent move-in with her significant other. They welcome us to his (now their) chateau off East Alameda, a Washington Park Victorian adjacent to the Cherry Creek area. Built in 1895, the house is a two-story gem with beautiful, burnished wood and arch moldings, original fireplace with stone and glass tile inlays, and remodeled bathrooms with handsome granite countertops. We sample the hostess’ signature cocktail, a “Paris 76”. This riff off the more well-known Paris 75 includes vodka, St. Germain, Vodka, lemon juice, simple syrup, topped with a vibrant Prosecco. I limit myself to one and a half pours of the bubbly beverage, as it is summery, light, addictive, and goes straight to my head. Our friends give us a tour of the house, and we admire the many black and white portraits and landscapes our friend had taken herself, including a beautiful shot out the window of a moving train traversing the “roadless canyon” along the Platte Canyon route.

When our delightful visit to their party ends, we take our leave and set off for part two of our date. We have no destination in mind; this is an open-ended expedition to Larimer Square. We check Yelp to find restaurant recommendations, and the app indicates several hotspots are in the vicinity. So, we park on the street and decide to wander until we find one of them, or, as is my habit when I travel out of town, until our noses lead us to a venue with aromas too tantalizing to pass by.

We don’t roam for long. One of our first Yelp recommendations is adjacent to the courtyard that houses Bistro Vendome, where we recently brunched for the first time with friends (a good idea to add to your Denver “must” list). Russell’s Smoke House is down a narrow set of stairs and neighbor to a speakeasy that tempts us, but we decide food is the first order of business. Russell’s staff greets us the moment we enter the small waiting area outside of the Speakeasy and the adjacent restaurant. This space is also known as the pie counter of Wednesday’s Pie. The floors are black and white checker squares, the hammered tin ceiling boasts intricate patterns, and several stools stand at the ready for those interested in pie only. As we are ushered into Russell’s and I notice the burnished wood bar is sleek, with wide mirrors enhancing the view of a wide assortment of bottles. Behind which stands a friendly bartender who efficiently sets out two places.

We are informed bar seating is the only option for walk-ins like us during this busy dinner hour, and we do not mind. The smell of smoked meats is just strong enough to entice, and we have no interest in going elsewhere now. Patrons around us dine on ribs, pulled pork, brisket, and heaping side dishes I am eager to identify. The bartender slides the one-page menu our way while “Boys of Summer” by Don Henley plays in the background, buoying our carefree mood. The tall bar stools are comfortable, and tall-backed booths along the wall behind us or table seating in a larger dining area are the alternative options for those with reservations. Women’s softball plays on several wall mounted flat screens, but we soon turn our attention to the specialty cocktail menu. Some discussion ensues, as we debate draft beers versus gin based or other cocktails with our helpful and talkative bartender. We settle on “Watch Your Step*,” a bold concoction of mezcal, lime, and salt. Crowned with a wheel of lime, and pale peachy-blush in color, the cocktail is sippable summer. We share one in a frosty pillar highball tumbler and discuss the appetizer selection. The Crispy Shrimp Tacos and Brisket Sliders sound delicious, but we instead opt for the Pork Belly, and the brilliantly named Cheesy Bacon Bombs, which set our mouths to watering in anticipation. We consult with our bartender about the option of adding a side of macaroni and cheese. He encourages us to do so at any time. Our thought is to see how filling the apps turn out to be, then order more food if needed. (Note to self, as my wife blithely informs me: “Mac ‘n’ cheese is always needed.”)

Sipping our cocktail happily, we wait for our food and check the softball game in progress. Our bartender deftly flips shakers and spins bottles nearby. In no time at all, the Pork Belly and Cheesy Bacon Bombs arrive. The glistening meat is served with crispy onions and expertly charred brussels sprouts, as well as a crisp apple pomegranate marmalade that lends a welcome acidity to cut the richness of the pork. Every bite I take, which I carefully assemble with a morsel of each ingredient of the dish, is fruity, sweet, savory, smoky, and just enough hints of salt and vinegar to balance all the flavors. My better half agrees with me – of the two appetizers, this one is far superior.

The Cheesy Bacon Bombs are worth sampling, and enjoyable, though they cannot compete with the Pork Belly. They are wrapped with a crisp slice of bacon around a puff pastry with bit of mozzarella inside. Bite-sized, lightly crunchy on the outside, and a soft and chewy in the center. I find I prefer the chipotle aioli dipping sauce, and my wife favors the marinara. We order the macaroni and cheese shortly after tasting both (egged on by the bartender, who says: we can’t go wrong, this pasta dish is not to be missed). Minutes later our steaming bowl of cheesy noodles arrives. We dive in and immediately fall into bliss. Decadent, creamy, gooey, this is everything macaroni and cheese should be. Seashell shaped conchiglie cradle a thick bechamel sauce that warms from the belly up, a nice counterpart to our already warming cocktail. The best bite combination of the night is crafted by my wife, who adds the pork belly appetizer components with a generous portion of the macaroni, before sharing a taste with me.  Heaven. We then discover one can order a bowl of the macaroni with additions on top, such as the pork belly, and vow to do so upon our certain return someday.

While we are in our food reverie, two burly young men enter the bar and sit directly next to us. They start speaking, and we notice their thick brogues. Soon they order beers, and then give us a pleasant hello. After some conversation they confirm their country of origin is Scotland. Visiting for a week, they will explore Denver first, then move on to Boulder.

“Do you live here? Any recommendations for us in Boulder?” the young man closest to my wife asks, his accented vowels rolling delightfully.

“We live in Loveland,” I tell him, “but I lived in Boulder for years.” We chat about points of interest and restaurants. I suggest Pearl Street and Chautauqua Park as starting points. “You can’t go wrong on Pearl, there are plenty of pubs, bistros, shops, you name it. And at Chautauqua you can do easy hikes and enjoy the scenery or go straight up the mountain if you want something more strenuous.” They nod at us as they sip their beers.

I am not sure if our young friends are interested in any fine dining recommendations, so I refrain from suggesting my favorite high-end dinner spots: The Black Cat, Frasca (two experiences in Boulder that should not be missed, for any true gourmands). More moderately priced Pasta Jay’s, The Med, Sushi Zanmai, and Salt are all excellent, so I share those ideas. We chat for a while longer, enjoying the boys’ laughter, and they seem to welcome our input for their tour of Colorado. Our appetizer sampler and cocktail finally polished off, we bid the lovely Scottish visitors farewell and depart up the steep stairway to ground level. A sign on the door on the way out again touts “Wednesday’s Pie”; we add this to our list of places to sample when we return.

Our walk in the pleasant early evening air takes us around Larimer Square, decorated with white twinkle lights strung overhead, and plenty of outdoor seating for the restaurants lining the busy street. Amazing smells waft out of nearly every door we pass. We review menus and study the dining options nestled side by side along the block. Overwhelmed with choices, we keep walking, and stroll a few blocks north and east to Blake Street, where we stumble across a string of unique eateries and bars neither of us had seen before. I jot a few names down for our ever-lengthening Denver return visit to do list: Jovanina’s Broken Italian, Freshcraft, 1515 Restaurant, Pourhouse Pub. All have interesting menus and buzz with patrons. We decide we do not have time for these options at the moment, and keep walking.

Still ambivalent, kind of almost full but not quite sure, we enter Brass Tacks Bar for a quick refreshment. The space inside is enormous, with ceilings over 20 feet high, and ample space for seating on the long walk to the back. The décor is Western/Rockies kitsch – a huge steer skull and horns stands watch by the food counter in the back, and an antelope head greets those who enter at the front. The walls are exposed brick, the ceiling decorated in familiar hammered tin squares (apparently a popular design choice in vintage Denver structures). Brass Tacks’ well stocked bar offers libations of every sort, so I order an Outer Range Final Summit Saison (on draft) from the mustachioed bartender while my smart wife chooses water in anticipation of our impending drive home to the children. We settle into a booth across from the bar, in view of the movie “Gone in 60 Seconds” on the large flat screen. My beer is cold and smooth, with a floral nose, and delicate notes of coriander and banana.

The food counter is doing brisk business, with salads, burgers, and sandwiches coming out at a fast clip. Above it is a large, bright array of blinking numbers, making me think of an old-fashioned bingo hall, though there is a backlit “Now Serving” sign at the top. I can’t tell if they are truly using the display to notify customers their order is ready, or if it is just for show; either way, it looks pretty cool.

The aroma of grilling meats is alluring, and we discuss potential ordering options for several minutes, but we realize we are satisfied after Russell’s, and ordering more food might push us into “the bad place.” I study the menu, zeroing in on the Chimichurri Steak, with a mouthwatering description: “marinated grilled flank steak, chimichurri, roasted piquillo peppers, arugula, jalapeno on fresh baguette.” A bearded young man retrieves one from the window and I stare overlong as he passes our table: the crisp baguette is piled with thick slices of meat, and I can see the glistening chimichurri sauce crowning the beef and fresh arugula. I realize I need to sample this sandwich, or perhaps the Blackened Shrimp BLT (“blackened shrimp, bacon, lettuce, tomato, aji amarillo on toasted sourdough”). The Brick Chicken listed under “Family Meal” also sounds amazing: “half or whole roasted/grilled, served with tortillas, chicken jus, sour cream dip, hot sauce and fixings”. So much tasting to do, so little time, I lament to my longsuffering wife. When can we return? She gives me a patient look during my ramble, then gently suggests we head for home. Duty calls, and we can’t expect Grandma to watch the children forever. We will be back here soon enough. Reluctantly we wrap up our date night and retrace our steps to the car. On our drive back north, we observe the vivid sunset, full of warm pinks and molten gold clouds over the snowy Rockies, a fitting ending to our anniversary night on the town.

*Not to be confused with Mind Your Step, which came up when I googled cocktails of a similar name, in hopes of reproducing the Watch Your Step at home in future. London’s Artesian Hotel is the proud home of the Mind Your Step, a drink that looked so creative and potentially mind-blowing, I wanted to hop the pond to sample it immediately. Fodder for future international questing and blogging, noted.

Post Blog Entry Update: We returned to Russell’s last weekend, and finally sampled Wednesday’s Pie. I ordered the Apple Pie with Caramel Sauce, a la Mode. The crust was buttery, flakey, just the right thickness. The ice cream (Vanilla Bean) was luscious, and melted delightfully into the pie. Normally I’m not a caramel fan, but they drizzled the perfect amount over the warm slice, and each bite of firm apple, homemade crust, sauce, and ice cream melded harmoniously on the tongue. I highly recommend this spot for dessert anytime one gets the opportunity.