Audio By Carbonatix
I’ve gone back to The Q Worldly Barbeque a few times since my
review meals — not for barbecue, but for the
incredible corn fritters off the dessert menu. While I would like to
see some corn bread up on that board as well, these are a good
consolation prize: nothing more than balls of corn dough, studded with
the occasional whole kernel of sweet corn, tossed into a super-hot
Friolator and deep-fried until they’re golden and sweet and lacy with
greasy filigree. They crunch on the surface, are soft and pillowy
inside, and come dusted in confectioner’s sugar like some kind of
crazy, only-in-the-West funnel cake. I hadn’t even noticed them on my
first visit, so fixated was I on the ‘cue, got an order on my second
time through — and devoured them like a fat kid facing down a
dozen glazed doughnuts. I’ve since returned for two more orders and can
say with supreme confidence that while I am very appreciative of the
Carolina tidewater sauce and dry-rubbed pork shoulder at the Q, I now
fantasize about the place because of its corn fritters.
Sad, but true.
The next-best thing on the Q’s board that has nothing to do with
barbecue is the whiskey. The joint has an impressive bar, set off to
the right, running down the long wall back toward the stage. And that
bar is stocked with an Irishman’s dream of whiskeys, Scotches and
bourbons. Not only are the tenders there packing bottles of Red Breast
(super-awesome, high-end Jameson label), but also John Powers
(double-super-awesome lowbrow sippin’ whiskey that was overlooked for
many years, classed among the bum liquors just because it’ll give you a
hangover like a mule kick to the head if you are intemperate in your
consumption). There’s also Bushmills and Tullamore Dew for you
iconoclasts in the crowd, Jameson — regular and twelve-year
— and Connemara for those looking for something different. And
that’s just the Irish contingent. The call bourbon list is as long as
my arm (and includes, most notably, the ultra-light Basil Hayden’s,
single-barrel Blanton’s, Sazerac rye and Gentleman Jack for anyone who
wants to drink like my grandfather), and the scotch board is even
longer — filled with a bunch of bottles that I know nothing
about.
A perfect meal at the Q? A half-pound of pork shoulder, gotten
fairly early in the evening (it seems better the earlier you order it),
slathered with an ounce or two of tidewater sauce, chased with two
shots of John Powers Irish, neat, and finished off with a plate of corn
fritters and a Basil Hayden’s on the rocks.
Sound good? Yeah, I’ll race ya…
Burgertime: Down at 1890 South Pearl Street, Park
Burger finally opened this past weekend. God knows we’ve been
eagerly awaiting this first kinda-solo venture by Frank
Bonanno‘s main man, Jean-Philippe Failyau, particularly
since the original, blindly optimistic opening date was in
February.
The menu is simple: burgers, specialty burgers (like the Frenchy
with brie and ham), regular fries, sweet-potato fries and shakes. On
page two, there’s the booze — good beer (everything from PBR cans
to bottles of Corona to Belgian Kriek and Barbar) and fine wines that
can’t help but recall that closing scene from Sideways. A fat
burger, onion rings and a ’61 cheval blanc? Miles made that look
good. And I, for one, am looking forward to trying to replicate
his particular brand of crushing ennui with an order of sweet-potato
fries, a double Parkburger, bloody rare, and an Argentine malbec. A
little low-rent, maybe, but then so is my world-weariness.
When Bonanno (with Failyau’s help) got Bones open at 701
Grant Street at the very end of last year, he was following in the
footsteps of several other big-name chefs who were going the noodle-bar
route, mostly on the East and West coasts. With the burger thing,
Failyau is going down yet another well-trod path. For the past
half-dozen years, a lot of fairly famous guys have decided to throw off
the chains of fine-dining oppression (read: high food costs) and
simplify their lives (read: make more money) by opening little burger
shacks. Bobby Flay has done it. Michel Richard in D.C.,
Tim Love in Fort Worth. Daniel Bolud opened DB Bistro
Moderne in 2001 (serving a $27 burger stuffed with short-rib meat
and foie gras — not exactly a burger shack), and both
Kellers (Thomas and Hubert) have burger bars
opened or opening. Even Eric Ripert has a burger on the menu at
his new(ish) Westend Bistro in Washington — inspired,
according to an interview in Gourmet, by the burgers at
McDonald’s and Burger King.
All of which puts Failyau in some pretty good company. And Denver
will always have room for one more great burger bar.
Leftovers: The big question was always how Ruth’s
Chris could stay open, since there were so many better steakhouses
within a few blocks of its location at 1445 Market Street. But now the
only question is who will be opening in that space next, because
Ruth’s Chris closed last week. For more details, see our Cafe Society
blog. That’s where you’ll also find an early scouting report on Troy
Guard‘s TAG, which opened as promised on May 18, just a
block away from the Ruth’s Chris space at 1441 Larimer Street.
