During college, we’d go to a notorious party town to blow off steam after a long stretch of school in a notoriously boring town. We’d all shack up at some condo where, after the three beds and two couches were taken, the safest spots to sleep were under the kitchen…
When I came to Colorado ten years ago and immediately started railing against the typical Coloradan’s lack of driving skill (“It’s snowing/raining — we’d better slow down to half the speed limit!”), I was informed that Coloradans (or whatever you call yourselves) weren’t at fault; it was all the damn…
Sparrows are considered rather common, but common is not the word you would use to describe the new restaurant that bears the bird’s name. An enthusiastic foursome is trying to make Sparrow fly in the space that over the past two decades has housed Transalpin, JV’s the Cork, Sacre Bleu…
Many things cause guys to regress and act half their ages. Women, for example, can turn even accomplished hounds into virtual teenagers who will do anything — including change their hairstyle, clothing and job — to impress them. When a guy gets “sick” with the sniffles, he can put on…
Serial bartender: It’s a scary concept. Okay, not nearly as frightening as Ted Bundy or some other serial types, but Oran Feild is almost as well known in this state. He could even go by one name, like Cher or Madonna. So when I entered Monarck, the latest alcohol-dispensing venue…
We here at the Institute of Drinking Studies are nothing if not conscientious. We advocate strict rules that govern the planning and execution of a night out, guaranteeing a successful recovery sometime the following week. For example, you must carefully choose venue, transportation, food intake, poison of choice, whom you…
“You’ve never had Hpnotiq? Hpno’s the shit, dog!” said Dave Herrera, a man recognized more for his music knowledge than for his cocktail choices. “Drink Hpno and you’re gonna be bangin’ with Dre by the end of the night.” Hpnotiq, also known as “blue juice,” has been a favorite of…
This is my favorite time of year. By early September, the temperature’s cooling off, football is dominating more and more of SportsCenter and every other sportscast, and vicious campaign advertisements start showing up on TV. With the close presidential race and a hotly contested Colorado senatorial campaign, I foresee spending…
There are two types of people — those who love the Palm, and those who don’t understand why other people love the Palm. I was a member of the latter group when I lived in Manhattan, and craggy, ancient salesmen would take me to the original Palm on Second Avenue…
Life is full of unending battles. Hitting your ideal weight and body habitus; making the perfect Bloody Mary; sending a politician to Washington who displays a range of emotions greater than an ear of corn’s and is more concerned with doing the right thing than with planning his future book…
Certain tastes and smells take you back to a specific time in your life, sometimes even when you don’t want to go there. I dropped by Tryst — a lounge whose masterful design created sophisticated space out of thin air in Writer Square — on a trip to check out…
Things have officially gotten out of hand in America. Entering Super Target the other day with my daughter, Allison, I noticed a prominent display of the next entry in the Hello Kitty line of kids’ stuff, which already includes keychains, videos, crayons and oil filters. This latest development: thong underwear…
I don’t know if it was the cocktail waitress’s cheerleader voice or the fact that she called me “ma’am” three times prior to actually delivering my drink, but I detested her from the start. At what point do you become a “ma’am” or a “sir”? Yes, I was significantly older…
It’s human nature to try to improve upon past accomplishments. We strive to improve our work skills, our time in the mile, our driving so that we don’t singlehandedly snarl traffic on Colorado Boulevard from I-70 to I-25, our dancing moves so that we can approach all the soul displayed…
Vodka Mortini Morton’s 1710 Wynkoop Street 303-825-3353 Shaken, not stirred — James Bond was on the money. Scientists at the University of Western Ontario have found that shaking a martini increases the antioxidant activity in the drink, which in turn reduces the drinker’s risk of cataracts, strokes and cardiovascular diseases…
When you wake up after a night of carousing, two questions should emerge from your clouded mind: 1) Where am I? 2) Who am I with? After our visit to the Denver Tech Center’s b>Purple Martinib> (8000 East Belleview Avenue, Greenwood Village), I placed an urgent wake-up call to the…
After a game of golf out by DIA, friends suggested a drink at the nearest bar: Outback Steakhouse. Hey, any port in a storm. But the second I stepped inside, my disdain for mid-level chain restaurants came flooding back like a repressed memory. Can someone please explain to me how…
Happy hour is one of the greatest inventions in history. If you’re really honest with yourself, I think you’ll agree that only wide-screen TVs, frozen pizza rolls, propane barbecue grills and Victoria’s Secret compare. And like the last of these, happy hours have had a major social impact, giving first…
A large Buddha behind the bar in the Tom Tom Room, formerly the site of Tommy Tsunami’s, was supposed to be enveloped in smoke, but after a few sputters and grunts, it was clear that the Buddha had performance anxiety. Happily, this was the only performance problem I experienced at…
LoDo has bars for every mood. I have a favorite or two where, during football season, I start pouring down Bloody Marys at 11 a.m. Although they are harder to find, a few other LoDo venues are guaranteed to inspire such a night of debauchery that you want to drive…
In Mexico, I do what every travel guide tells you not to do — I eat food bought on the street. Have I gotten sick? Yes, very. Was it worth it? Absolutely. At the restaurants that cater to the vacationing hordes, you can’t find any of this street fare –…
Q: What does the Institute of Drinking Studies recommend after a monumentally bad week? A week that leaves you bruised, battered and trying to get the footprints off your back from life running roughshod over your carcass? A week where the only thing that keeps you going is the thought…
