Jon Schlegel is standing outside the door of his restaurant, Snooze, wondering where the people are. I’m sitting at the counter inside, sipping my coffee and filling in all the little boxes of the Saturday crossword puzzle with dirty words. And I’m wondering the same thing. It’s two in the…
When I reviewed Frisco’s in April 2005, I was impressed by a couple of things. For starters, the crew’s resumés included some big-time names (Batali, Bastianich, Le Bernardin and Capital Grille) that seemed totally out of place on the still-virginal landscape of Belmar. And then there was the concept: a…
There are many things a chef needs to know that aren’t taught in cooking school. How to survive the heat, how to write a menu that’ll sell, how to speak Spanish. Spanish is a big one: When a newly minted chef goes out into the world, he’ll find that a…
It had taken me almost four years to get here, to this small, comfortable storefront surrounded by taquerías and art galleries, in just the right area for catching hungry adventurers looking for an interesting dinner on a Saturday night. Arada Restaurant has scratchy tablecloths and no silverware; serves strong, sweet,…
Back in December 2003, when I reviewed Thai Basil II in this same location, it was a little like falling in love. There was that first blush of excitement over finding something new, the desire to explore everything it had to offer, and the absolute conviction that it could do…
There are many reasons that I’m so cuckoo for the Cocoa Puffs of ethnic and peasant cuisines, and one is my theory that cuisine constitutes the genetics of civilization. Imagine a slice of pizza. A really good slice of pizza — perfect New York-style thin crust, fresh mozzarella, maybe a…
Why in the hell would you eat that?” I get asked that a lot. Most often by my wife. “No, I mean seriously, Jay. Whole fish and sea bugs and chicken ass — why?” Because they’re good, I tell her (or anyone else who corners me with The Question). But…
While Guadalajara (see review, page 47) captures the authentic flavors of Mexico’s southern latitudes, Santiago’s has a mortal lock on quick-and-cheap Mexican street food. The local chain (it started decades ago with just one outlet and now boasts more than twenty locations scattered across the metro area, with satellites as…
I wound up reviewing Guadalajara (see review) after a couple of meals went completely to pieces. Both were at Corridor 44, the six-month-old champagne bar in Larimer Square, and they were so awful and uncomfortable and mind-bogglingly bad that, after the second disastrous visit, I realized I couldn’t review the…
Some of the best meals I’ve had — the most surprising, often the most memorable — have come on nights when the last thing in the world I wanted to do was eat out; nights when I just wanted to sit in front of the TV in boxer shorts and…
Emerald Isle Restaurant 4385 South Parker Road, Aurora 303-690-3722 Talking to Genessee Elinoff, owner of Rosie’s Diner (see review, page 54), I learned that Denver’s connection with diners dates back to 1888, when one of the first diners ever built — a simple lunch wagon, made for feeding mine workers…
I met Ben Doerflinger and Shannon, his soon-to-be-ex-wife, last month at my favorite Village Inn in Aurora, where they were plotting a revolution in the soon-be-outlawed smoking section. They thought they had a shot at beating back the smoking ban due to go into effect July 1 — a new…
At the table behind me, two girls are talking about Jesus. In front of me is a plate of chicken-fried steak that could send me to meet him real soon. It’s the third chicken-fried steak I’ve eaten in less than 24 hours. I have the meat sweats. My heart is…
From the outside, there’s not much to distinguish Namaste from the antique shops, sports-memorabilia stores and physical therapists’ offices that share this Lakewood strip mall. And inside, it’s just a room: tables, chairs, double-thick tablecloths, a grinning Buddha by the door, and waiters who seem surprisingly overdressed for the suburbs…
It should be enough that the Royal Peacock (see review, page 49) serves some of the best Indian food I’ve ever had. It should be enough that owner Shanti Awatramani is willing to ship that food to transplanted Coloradans in Washington and New York and California, to loyal fans so…
Laura staggers as we step through the double doors and into the Royal Peacock. She doesn’t swoon, exactly, but there’s not much in this world that can make her swoon. She misses her footing a little, and then a huge smile spreads across her face, and her eyes go wide…
Caribbean Cuisine is the quintessential strip-mall restaurant. It’s small, cheap, slightly alien, clean, well-run and — since its recent relocation from an invisible flank position at a big strip mall at 15445 East Iliff Avenue to a much more obvious (and larger) spot down the street at 17200 East Iliff…
As human beings, we are built for adaptation. On both a micro and macro scale, this knack for going with the flow, for finding solutions, for reading prevailing trends and riding them into the ground is what has elevated us above all the llamas and spore molds and ocelots and…
Thirty-two steps is all it takes to get from Vietnam to Italy, Saigon to Rome, New Orient to Viaggio Italian Trattoria. Thirty-two steps if you’ve got legs like mine, probably fewer if you’re in a hurry. And if it’s raining, you won’t even get wet. Strip-mall dining is one of…
Every time I go to New York, I find myself liking it less and less. It’s not the people, the noise, the size — all that stuff used to bug me, but not so much anymore. Now, after six years and change spent west of the Mississippi, what bothers me…
I was completing my list as the plane banked over lower Manhattan for its final descent into LaGuardia. It went like this. Fucked: Elvis; an Algerian in Paris; a future member of the British Parliament (unnamed); an architect and a poor artist; an Italian in Rome; an unkind college boy;…
No matter how good a server is, it’s tough to move the chef’s yak special. “I have two specials to tell you about tonight,” our waitress said, smiling, struggling to make eye contact as Barry — my go-to steakhouse guy — and I pored over the newsprint menu, looking for…
