Dining around Denver

Denver is full of great restaurants. Unforutnately, as a single woman with no fellow foodie friends, I have yet to discover the dining delights of the city. I really can’t justify treating myself to a $45 meal alone in a restaurant surrounded by happy couples. Last week, however, I had a visitor from Europe and thus, an excuse to ravish myself in fine eating and drinking.

As the visit would be short (less than a week, not counting in jetlag and a mountain trip we had planned), I would only be able to squeeze in so many restaurants. After spending a week skimming the bestof Denver dining from Westward.com, I had come up with quite a varied list of restaurants both exotic and classic, unique and ordinary. I then did a general google search on Denver area restaurants. My findings: Denverites (especially suburban Denverites) tend to enjoy the dependable, albeit boring and unoriginal, chain restaurant. I wanted to treat my friend to a restaurant where a real chef de cuisine would prepare the dish, where fresh local produce would be used, where each bite would be gastronimic nirvana (in not so many words). I wanted innovative cuisine (at an accessible price).

After a few days of contemplating my list of Denver restaurants, I narrowed my list down to a handful (or more): Duo Restaurant, Lola, 9th Door, 8 Rivers Cafe, Arada, Stuebens, Encore, Vita, Rioja, Damascus cafe, Wild Thai Ginger, Osteria Marco… I also wanted to try some happy hour menus and a few uniquely Denver treats. Needless to say, the number of restaurants surpassed the number of meals we could eat in a 4 day period. And if we did eat at all those restaurants, we wouldn’t possibly be able to appreciate the food. My excitement quickly turned to frustration and disappointment.

During our 4 days in Denver, we ate out 3 times but we didn’t try any of the restaurants on the above list (except for Lola’s where we had margaritas and sangria). So where did we eat?

Day 1: Paramount Cafe. Across the street from the Hard Rock Cafe on the touristy 16th Street Mall, this restaurant/bar/cafe is known as “Denver’s original rock n’ roll cafe.” I am not sure if I agree. It is set in a historic building around the corner from the Paramount theater. The interior is plastered with black and white photos of rock stars and other famous people (I suppose). The fare? Classic American and Tex/Mex. We ordered hamburgers which were decent though not the best nor the cheapest burgers I have ever eaten. Classic French fries were served alongside the patty of garnished ground beef in a bun which, like the burger, were neither the best or the worse fries I have eaten. THe atmosphere was great, but as far as ground-breaking food and dining, the Paramount missed the target. I wasn’t expecting anything exceptional; the restaurant is afterall situated on 16th street mall and attracts the hungry mall dwellers. Next time, we will take the mall ride and head to Osteria Marco on Larimer which has earned rave reviews for its affordable Italian (in this month’s 5280 magazines Best of Italian).

Day: 1 afternoon: Lola’s (for Happy Hour). What can I say? THe historic Highlands district of Denver has a certain renovated charm. Lola’s is a Latin restaurant with a patio that offers great views of Denver. By 4:30 in the afternoon, the happy hour crowd had already descended upon the restaurant for its wide array of tequila and tableside gauc’. We ordered margaritas which we downed in 2 minutes due to the heat. Since we had eaten just earlier, we were not hungry for happy hour fare, but I have to admit that I was considering ruining my dinner appetite after seeing plates of $2 happy hour tacos served to the people next to us. Drinks were good; atmosphere was nice. I will stay for dinner next time.

Day 2: McLoughlin’s Restaurant and Bar. On day 2, dinner would be in the devloping Riverfront neightborhood in Denver. The restaurant was located in a nice area across from Zengo, the (overpriced) fusion restaurant. The prices on the menu of McLoughlin’s were much more reasonable. Run by two Irish brothers, the menu contained a variety of classic American fare. I ordered the Carribean Jerk Chicken which was well seasoned and served with a pinapple rum butter. It was not bad though I doubt it was authentic Carribean Jerk rub. (For authentic Jerk, I think I will try 8 Rivers Cafe next time). My European friend ordered the chorizo and spinach stuffed chicken – also not bad. The fare of McLoughlin’s was overall decent, but again, not the ground-breaking innovative food I was looking for, but good eats at a decent price.

Day 3: Grazio Italian Grill and Bar. Grazio just opened at the beginning of June in the Entertainment district of Lone Tree, an affluent suburb of Denver. Most of the restaurants is this area are well-establised chain restaurants that suburbanites tend to flock to with children in strollers. Grazio was one of the few appealing non-chain restaurants in the area. After skimming the menu, we were seated at a booth close to the window. The ambiance was nice with a bar at the center of the restaurant. (I imagine it attracts quite the happy hour DTC crowd on week days.) As soon as we were seated, a server brought us freshly baked drop herb biscuits served with garlic butter. The menu consisted of pastas, risottos and various meat dishes. To start, we ordered the Parmesan Crusted Artichokes as an appetizer. The little patties of pan-fried artichoke hearts, spinach, parmesan and pinenuts were served with a basil pesto aioli. It was a good little starter. As a main course, I ordered the Lobster risotto (though I am aware that risotto is more of a premi platti than a main course) and my friend ordered the Pork tendorloin in Madeira sauce. The risotto was good, albeit quite heavy, but well garnished with lobster. The pork in my friend’s dish was very tender and well cooked. Overall, the meal was pretty good and the servings copious, but yet again, nothing over-the-top original to jump up and down about.

After a week of dining around Denver, I still have no claim to the real dining scene. We didn’t try any restaurants with world-renowned chefs. We didn’t have a 4 course, wine dinner where presentation tempted our taste buds before the food even touched our tongues. We didn’t have that lovely Denver dining experience I was dying for. Once again, my expectations were too high.

But fear not! I still believe that one day, I will have the chance to regale my palate with the fine cuisine of one of the restaurants on my list. It’s all a matter of planning. And one day, I will be able to boast about eating in the fine restaurant and enjoying every last bite (even if the portions are smaller and more expensive).

PF Chang’s

I am usually not one to go to chain restaurants, but an unused gift card for PF Chang’s led me to this well-established restaurant.  PF Chang’s is known for upscale Americanized Asian food.  The architecture of the restaurant was actually constructed to ressemble an Ancient Chinese village, complete with large replicas of terra-cotta horses and soldiers.  The dining experience could be likened to eating in the Ancient China museum exhibit, minus the museum, the history and a few hundred authentic terracotta soldiers and horses.  I will admit that the atmosphere was nice.

The problem was that we decided to go to the restaurant on a Saturday night and to make things worse, we went on a Prom night.  Having thought ahead, we made reseverations for 7:30 p.m. thinking that the crowd would have dissipated by the time we arrived.  This is Lone Tree, after all, and in this cookie-cutter suburban neighborhood of Denver, the average dinner time is 6 p.m.  Unfortunately, this was not the case.  We walked into the restaurant and immediately noticed the excess of tux clad teenage boys and a blinding assortment of prom dress colors.  We approched the hostess (trying as hard as possible to avoid the peppy years of high school we had left behind (thank God!)) and told her we had a reservation for 7:30 (it was 7:25).   She dutifully handed us a vibrating beeper contraption and told us they were running 15 minutes late with reservations.  It was no big deal – we could wait 15 minutes.

Around us, people were crammed into every corner of the room.  Everyone was waiting, armed with a vibrating beeper, waiting anxiously for a table.  The large bar in the very center of the restuarant was packed with people.  It was loud.  15 minutes later, still no table, but we were patient.  We continued tapping our feet as our hunger continued to grow.  No one cared, as it was too loud to hear our stomachs groan.  It was 8:00 and still no table (I remind you that our reservation was at 7:30).  We waited another 5 minutes before approching the hostess.  “Oh, it could be another 10 minutes,” she said nonchalantly.  It was apparent that this had happened before.  8:15 and I was about to run into the kitchen screaming like a madwoman. (Hunger can do that to a person, espcially a person who was expecting to eat at 7:45/8 at the latest.)

The problem was actually not the wait.  I am usually a pretty patient person, but a 45 minute wait with reservation seems a bit ridiculous to me.  I looked around me and the crowd of people waiting was only getting larger and more anxious.  The problem was that I was sure that almost everyone waiting had a reservation.  The restaurant, victim of its own sucess, had apprently overbooked reservations.  The hostess insisted that they usually kept reservation times, but I had serious doubts as I looked from the people crowding the entrance way of the restaurant to the people having a drink at the bar.  PF Chang’s had obviously adopted the ‘if you leave, you leave; there will be plenty of people who will stay’ mentality.  And people did stay indeed.  The bar was packed (where the restaurant generated mass profits by making people (with reservations) wiat; the waiting area was packed.  And there were even people who were leaving out of frustration.  I was thouroughly irritated, but we decided to wait it out.

8:26, one hour after we arrived, the red lights on the beeper were blinking.  FINALLY! As we were being led to our table, an irritated man slammed down his beeper and said, “This happens everytime I come here, reservation or not!”  He stormed out of the restaurant (just as I would have done if my dining mates did not insist on waiting).  Needless to say, the staff was unphased.

We were led to our table with an insincere “Thank you for your patience” from the host.  Every word was spat out with insincerity and a shrug of indifference.  We were given our bill before we had even finished our meal and our plates were cleared a second after we finished our last bite of food.  I know it’s all about efficiency and speed in America, but give me a break!  I do not appreciate the waiter waiting tableside to take away my place as soon as I swallow my last morsel of food.  The PF Chang’s staff was obviously quite accustomed to this sort of ancy, irritated, and high-speed atmosphere.  No one seemed to give it a second thought.

I will say that the food was good, different from normal Chinese fare.  But unfortunately, the bad service is what will stand out in my mind.  A restaurant of that size and reputation needs to learn how to keep reservations and not overbook.   And if a wait is necessary for those who took the time to reserve, a complimentary drink or appetizer would be much appreciated.  And note to the hostess, please do not tell us the wait is 15 minutes if it is really 60.

So feel free to join me in a boycott of PF Chang’s until service is improved.  Or better yet, just go to independent restaurants where the fare is original and the people friendly.  You will leave the restaurant thinking about the atmosphere and the food and not the long wait and poor service.

L’As du falafel

And now for your tummy-growling, mouth-watering enjoyment, the long anticipated review of L’As du falefel (or the best falafel in Paris).

Everyone who owns a Paris tour guide has read about the famous restaurant in the Marais apparently recommended by Lenny Kravitz. I don’t know anything about Lenny Kravitz but I do know about the restaurant that so proudly displays pictures of this so-called Mr. Kravitz. The restaurant is L’as du falafel.

On the rue des Rosiers in the Marais, there is no lack of falafel restaurants, every single one claiming to have the best falafel in Paris.  Because of the typical long line outside L’As du falafel, I have been known to give into hunger and try the falafel sandwich from the place across the street, down the street, around the corner and a few blocks down.  Hell, I have also been known to give into my falafel craving in the touristy Saint-Andre-des-Arts neighborhood known for an over-abondance of mediocre restaurants (both take-out and eat-in) and camera-touting tourists.  It seems that the further you wander from the Marais, the worse the falafel.   But despite all my falafel adventures in Paris (both good and bad), I always end up at the same falafel joint.  Believe me, there is no falafel like the falafel from L’as du falafel.

So what sets L’as du falafel apart from the rest?  It is all in the layering, my friend.  A good falafel sandwich usually consists of some combination of the following: falafel balls, marinated cabbage, other assorted vegetables in salad form, hummus and if you are lucky, a variety of sauces and the to-die-for fried eggplant.  The layering technique at L’as is apparent as soon as you walk up to the take out window.  The falafel artist (I will call him) slices open a warm piece of pita bread and begins layering the ingredients with a precision and technique unmatched by his competitors.  First, he slops on a good serving of hummus onto the pita, then adds some cabbage, some salad, and 3 or 4 warm, well-seasoned falafel balls.  Lather, rince, repeat.  No, just repeat.  After the 2nd layer, he adds the fried eggplant and spoons a white sauce over the top layer of falafel balls.  Then he asks the essential question to which the answer is always a resolute oui.  “Sauce piquante?”  “OUI!”  The sauce piquante is the perfect blend of spices and spiciness and is the perfect finishing touch to the falafel special.  The sauces seep into the falafel balls and the pita.  There is rarely a part of the pita sandwich that is too dry or bland and I attribute this balance to the layering of ingredients.  And like I said, no falafel stand layers the falafel quite like L’as.

Another reason L’as stands out in the falafel district of Paris is quality of the ingredients and the blend of spices used in the falafel balls.  Each falafel restaurant has its own chick pea goo recipe that it sqeezes into balls and plunges in frying oil.  The chickpea fritters come out crisp and delicious.  The falafel balls at l’As are particularly garlicky (and in my book, the more garlic, the better).  The hummus is als very smooth and tasty.  The vegetables are always crisp and fresh and of course, the ’sauce piquante’ adds the certain je ne sais quoi to an already well layered falafel sandwich.

I never go to Paris without getting my falafel fix.  Unfortunately, since my first trip to Paris, the price of falafel has gone up quite remarkably.  In 2003, I chomped dwn my first falafel special at a mere 3.50 euros for a falafel to-go (and this was back in the day when we were bemoaning the 1.20 dollar to 1 euro exchange rate).   In 2006, the price had already climbed to 4 euros and by the summer of 2007, the price was  a whopping 4.50 euros.  And in January 2008, the prices rose to jaw-dropping 5 euros (with a tamper-tandrum-throwing exchange rate of 1.47 dollar to 1 euro).  L’as du falafel did do a renovation of the restaurant interior (for those of you who prefer not to have falafel juices running down your jaw as you walk through the Marais) which now is far less cramped than before.  The prices, however, have remained fairly stable for in-house dining  (6.50 for a falafel special.)  It almost seems worth it to pay that extra 1.50 euros to eat in the restaurant, out of the rain,  with a carafe of water and as much sauce piquante as your heart desires.   But then again there is just something about the falafel to go experience: the sauce running down your cheek, the napkin balancing act (try throwing an umbrella into the mix), the cool Parisian drizzle and the stories of falafel-eating in old Jewish quarter of Paris.

*Suggestion:  If you aren’t full after a falafel (as is often the case with me and my bottomless stomach), a nice crepe nutella always makes for a good post-falafel snack.

Quasi fast-food

Working in big (or rather, middle-sized) city, one is always faced with the noontime delimma: where do I eat? While cities are abound with restaurants big and small, fast-food joints and way too many delis, the choice is always difficult. Denver, for example, has tons of nice restaurants with unique and appetizing menus, but paying $15 a day for lunch can get quite pricey over time; that’s an average of $300+ dollars on weekday lunches over the course of a month. Of course, one could head over to the corner McDonald’s and buy a few 99 cent hamburgers but that would prove quite detrimental to ones health. And who wants to eat poor quality burgers everyday, anyway? There is also the option of going to a deli for a handmade sandwich, but a $7 sandwich or salad does seem quite excessive. The point being, finding a cheap alternative to the brown-bag lunch is not an easy feat.

Enter the quasi fast-food restaurant. These restaurants have been popping up all over the place for quite a few years now and yes, they usually are franchises. Their claim: real food, prepared fast at an affordable (though not dirt-cheap fast-food) price.  They prepare a meal with freh ingredients (i.e. not defrosted and reheated) in a matter of minutes (though not quite fast-food speed) and the best part: no tip required. They also boast a certain quality to their products (i.e. all natural, organic, local, etc.) Examples of such restaurants include: Noodles and Co., Illegal Petes, An’s Lemongrass Grill or Panera Bread (though this one borders on deli). At Noodles and Co., your plate of noodles is delivered right to your table in a real bowl (none of that disposable plate thing) and usually costs between 6 and 8 dollars.  It is quite a nice alternative to the cold turkey sandwich with greasy chips.

Cafes Verlet

256, rue St Honore 75001 Paris

One of the things I love about Paris is the cafe life. There is nothing like sitting in a cafe, sipping espresso and people watching. It is one of the essential experiences of being Parisien, whether it’s for the morning caffeine fix at the comptoir or a long contemplative Sunday afternoon coffee. Even with Starbucks popping up all over the city and the growing coffee to-go craze, there is a certain charm to the Parisian cafe where people still take the time to sit, talk and think.

If it wasn’t the strong scent of roasted coffee beans that drew us to Verlet, it was the candied fruit gleaming in the window. Our noses were immediately pressed up against the glass as we ogled the slices of fruit tart being served along side cups of smooth espresso. Exhausted and dying for a caffeine fix, we pushed the door open of the historic cafe. Sacks of coffee beans greeted us as we entered the quaint, albeit crammed space where tables were squeezed in between jars of tea leaves, rows of candied fruit and the imposing baskets of coffee grinds. There was nonetheless a certain old world charm to this cafe that opposed the cookie-cutter feel of the Starbucks around the corner.

As all the tables on the main floor were taken, we headed up the narrow, uneven stairway to the salon a l’etage. With a large arched window facing the Rue Saint-Honore and photos on the wall, the spacious room upstairs held just as much charm as the crowded room below. The room reminded me of a remodeled artist’s loft. Unlike the ground floor, the salon had many open tables. In fact, the only other clients were a couple of French intellectuals passionately discussing politics and literature over a cup of espresso. I was slightly bemused. How very Parisian!

We found a little table close to the window and settled down on the bench seat. The waitress dutifully brought us a menu and we began to skim the list of exotic coffees and teas. The list was actually quite impressive. In most cafes in Paris, an espresso is an espresso. But Verlet offers a large variety of coffees and teas to choose from and quite a descriptive variety indeed. In addition to the “normal” coffees, the menu also included a selection of ‘cafes gourmets’, rare finds with subtile and complex aromas. Not feeling too adventurous, I ordered a coffee from Nicaragua, described as onctuous and aromatic. My boyfriend, on the other hand, decided to try something a little different and ordered the coffee from Yemen which was described on the menu as ‘aromatic and rich, with honey and butter notes, slightly spicy’.

The waitress arrived with the two small cups of espresso and set them down on our table along with 2 glasses of water. The scent of the coffee was so aromatic, deep and lulling. We decided to taste the expresso black first. Carefully, I dipped my spoon into the steaming espresso and lifted a small spoonful of Nicaragua coffee to my mouth. At first taste, it was bitter, uninviting and extremely strong. “This is a situation in which the glass of water is really indispensable,” my boyfriend remarked. I don’t think I had ever tasted coffee so strong. I put another spoonful into my mouth. Again, I winced at the bitterness of the black liquid. But with each additional sip, it became complex (like a glass of good wine) and with each sip, it got better. After drinking a few sips black, I decided to add some sugar. With sugar, this espresso came alive. As I am not a grand connoiseur of coffee, I cannot exactly describe the taste or the depth, but as someone who has had her fair share of Parisian cafe expressos, I can definately say this was not your average cafe espresso.

The cafe de Yemen which my boyfriend had ordered was just as rich and complex as mine, if not more. I felt it was less stong than the Nicaragua I had ordered, but had different flavors that my coffee was lacking. With sugar, it was alsolutely delicious (as much as an espresso could actually be delicious).

We sipped our espresso slowly, letting it rest on our tongues and drain slowly down our throats. We watched the chic Parisians below on the Rue Saint-Honore passing by with their hands full of shopping bags and the tourists confusedly searching their maps. We took in the sweet and bitter odor of steamy espresso (without the heavy odor of cigarette smoke thanks to the new law forbidding smoking in public places) and we took in Paris. I put my head against his shoulder and he squeezed me close to him. And we sipped our espresso. Our afternoon passed by without our being aware. It was the tap of the feet, the deep sighs and the silence of the busy city outside.

After an hour or two (or maybe even three…), we asked for our bill. Now, for those of you who have been to Paris, you know that the price of a simple espresso in a cafe can range anywhere form 1 euro (if this still exists) to a whopping 7 euros (I have even heard 10 euros, but it might just be an urban myth. Can you imagine a tiny shot of espresso costing 10 euros? Unbelievable!) depending on the location, the status and/or the clientel of the cafe. Although many French people will decry the cost of a 2 euro espresso, I have come to find 2 euros for an espresso quite reasonable, considering the fact that I have paid up to 4 euros for the exact cup of espresso at other cafes. It doens’t really even depend on the quality of the drink or the service. It’s all about location (and a few other things, of course). In some cafes, an espresso is served with a glass of water and a little speculoos biscuit or piece of dark chocolate; at other cafes, an espresso is served only with a grimace from the waiter. If I pay 4 euros for an espresso, I expect at least to get a glass of water with the coffee…unfortunately, this is rarely the case.

When I first set foot into Verlet, I was expecting quite a pricey espresso. Cafes Verlet is, after all, situated on the Rue Saint-Honore, right in the center of Paris, one street from the Louvre. Continue up the Rue Saint-Honore a few blocks and you will be in the middle of one of the high fashion districts of Paris lined with designer boutiques with 1000 euro purses and 2000 euro shoes in the windows. I didn’t expect to pay anything less than 3,50 euros for my espresso. But to my suprise, the classic espressos were only 2,70 euros. The gourmet coffees were a little more pricey at 3,50, but well worth it in my opinion. For the quality and the service at Verlet, the price of the coffee was quite reasonable. And on top of the quality and service, the coffee was served not only with a glass of water but a piecie of dark chocolate – much more than can be expected from any typical Parisian cafe.

Verlet exceeded my expectations. It’s always nice to find new cafes in Paris offering charm and a little escape from the bustle of the city.