It was my dining companion who noticed the weird thing about the tables at Encore. “Look at that,” she said, pointing to the round four-top next to us, noting how uneven the table was, how crooked. It was warped so badly that the flat outside edge had cracked and split…
Encore, was the last restaurant I visited before last week’s Best of Denver 2008 issue went out the door. I’d already picked Encore for Best French Fries — after Fruition, my first choice, quit making them — and was relieved to find that the fries were just as delicious last…
Heaven must be missing an angel — because after one visit, I’m sure Phil’s Place came straight from heaven, the answer to my prayers. I went there for green chile but wound up staying for the unbelievably entertaining happy-hour crowd. I initially started chatting with “Greedy,” who showed me that…
There’s considerable difference between a competent songwriter and a talented musician. Having never received formal training in any instrument, and with no ability (or interest in learning) to read music, I must humbly hang my hat on the former hook. But then, I rarely wear hats. I’ve been playing the…
In the Best of Denver 2007, I touted Yo Philly, the sandwich shop inside a Conoco station run by Jerry Cheryl, and followed up a few weeks later with this warning: “If you haven’t yet made the scene, you should. My only fear is that someday this gas-station counter will…
Of the many contributions of the Irish to world culture—from colcannon and those silly snap-brim tweed hats of which my father is so fond to the music of the Pogues and the films of Jim Sheridan—I don’t think anyone would argue with my saying that whiskey is the best. There’s…
My friend and the waitress were still talking about recycling, about the re-use and re-application of found objects, cast-off materials. And though I was concentrating on the food, some of their conversation must’ve penetrated, because I found myself thinking about recycling, too. About the salvage and reclamation of forgotten things…
While most of the Best of Denver 2008 fallout has been outside the office, there’s been plenty of talk here at Bite Me World HQ regarding my Best Green Chile award for Jack-n-Grill. Backbeat editor Dave Herrera takes it very personally when I say things about Colorado-style verde being just…
View larger species In order to make more sense of the world around us, illustrator and public house naturalist Nate Stone is compiling here a taxonomy of different barflies. While you’re out and about in Denver, if you spot any of these specimens please add your observations about their habitat…
For the first time in 25 years, Westword’s readers showed the collective good taste to choose something other than McDonald’s french fries as the Best French Fries.Their choice? Bistro Vendome, which makes its delicious fries even more addictive with a salty/sweet sprinkle of spices. The editorial choice for Best French…
Beer lovers at Lodo’s Falling Rock Taphouse got to try a unique Colorado pairing Friday night when the staff from Oskar Blues brewery passed out samples of their winter seasonal, Ten FIDY imperial stout, as well as the same beer after it had been aged for three months in a…
Every year, our work on the Best of Denver reminds us of not just what’s new and wonderful in this city, but what we’ve lost — although you don’t see the latter in the final issue. We just take note of the dearly departed as we research, then discard, potential…
View larger specimen In order to make more sense of the world around us, illustrator and public house naturalist Nate Stone is compiling here a taxonomy of different barflies. While you’re out and about in Denver, if you spot any of these specimens please add your observations about their habitat…
When I was growing up, my family and I spent most weekends at our summer cottage in the Thousand Islands region of upstate New York. When I tell people this, they imagine a tanned and happy nuclear unit cavorting on the manicured lawn of a nice Cape Cod on the…
They’re a good crew,” Mary Clark said, laughed proudly, then paused. “They work hard. They’re a really good crew.” She was talking about her kitchen crew at Fisher Clark Urban Delicatessen, possibly the most multi-tasking, versatile band of mercenaries working in the city right now. And she was laughing because…
Believe it or not, beer and I haven’t always been inseparable. Once upon a time, we didn’t have the same understanding of each other that we do now. As a teen, for example, I didn’t get why beer tasted like ass, or why it didn’t “work” as quickly as Kamikazes…
Both spots were serving the same purpose, separated by two dozen years and a million miles of desire. That old grocery store was dedicated to its community of farmers, drunks, rednecks and fishermen, just as Fisher Clark tends to the needs of the yuppies, old folks, new money and urban/suburban…
Today is my birthday. Which is all well and good. St. Patrick’s Day babies get to be honorary citizens of Ireland; our birthdays are remembered by more people; and there is an entire section of greeting cards dedicated to those born on March 17 (if you divide the U.S. population…
While Denver itself frequently ranks in national polls for having one of the biggest St. Patrick’s Day celebrations, none of our local Irish pubs ever get so much as nod from out-of-towners. Whatever, we don’t need some national booze critic to tell us where to get soused. For a town…
The host at French 250 is young — new to the business, I think, because as he walks me down the narrow space between tables, I can see that he doesn’t yet have the smooth grace of the servers, who move like dancers: smoothly, fluidly, and with the confidence of…
French 250 is a fascinating place, unlike any French restaurant I’ve been to before. Yes, it’s fancy, and terribly expensive (I dropped about $120 on my solo dinner with only two glasses of wine). And yet it’s still comfortable, relaxing, almost homey. The service is informative and informal, the kitchen…
The suicide slushie is classic Americana. It’s also one of my most vivid memories of childhood summers spent at a campground on Clear Lake in Milton, Wisconsin. My family began this tradition by camping in a tent when I was too young to have memories; we upgraded to a pop-up…
