A Trip to the Highlands
The lovely lighting at the LoHi SteakBar
We recently ventured out to the LoHi SteakBar, and we were not disappointed. They don’t take reservations, but we’re willing to play things fast and loose every once in a while. It’s definitely a little loud and crowded on a weekend night but it is, after all, also a bar. The décor is appealing; we especially liked the lampshades in the front room (though there could be a third in the middle) and the extra wide bar.
We got ourselves on the list as soon as we arrived and the maître d’ (read: skinny kid with the list) kept us informed, at least three times, about our status on the list as we moved up it. It was divine! Like the overly organized homosexuals that we are, we tend to get a little antsy about table lists in restaurants, like someone might swoop in from the side and claim a table before their rightful time, but not here. I (Blake) have never felt so reassured. Bravo LoHi! Also appealing was the bartender, who was friendly and generous with her pours. Femmes take note: hot butch bartender in the Highlands. There were, in fact, many of our sister homosexuals in evidence last night at LoHi. As well as a hipster staff (hipsters in Denver!) that seemed to be outfitted almost entirely in plaid shirts, as if it were the uniform.
But on to matters of importance: food and wine. Wines by the glass were priced well, especially considering the generosity of the pours. Granted, they do come in those silly mini-carafes that one then must pour into one’s glass, but these ones were at least cute, like little beakers in a chemistry set. Once seated by Skinny we ordered steak frites. There are a few options from which to choose and we both went for the strip, which promised the most meat (10 oz). One also has a choice of sauce; we opted for Béarnaise and blue cheese butter. (And thank goodness they have the decency not to spell that “bleu” on their menu, á la française. My pet peeve: if one wants to spell it bleu then one should go for broke and say “fromage bleu,” but if one wants to use the word “cheese,” then use the English spelling on blue as well.) But I digress. The steaks were tender and tasty. The Béarnaise was good, though there wasn’t much blue cheese flavor to the butter in the second option and I loves me some blue cheese. The fries were seriously good: not too crispy and not too soft. A little hint of herb on top. And just right on the salt, which for me means salty! (But if one wanted more, and I might have wanted just a little more, as I am wont to do, the salt on the table seemed to be kosher. Yay!)
Only one complaint: our service could have been better. Everyone else around us seemed to be satisfied with their hipster but ours lagged a little bit. He took his time in taking our order and then pretty much disappeared. We asked for water and he forgot it. And he wasn’t really around to be reminded. On the other hand, the cute flush-cheeked runner who brought our steaks delivered water immediately upon being asked so it seemed like our waiter might just have been the dud of the bunch.
On the whole, were the DaOiD boys satisfied? Indeed they were. And they shall be returning. This trip to the Highlands certainly paid off.
The DaOiD Boys Have Arrived
Denver. What’s an urban gay to do? Start a blog, it would seem.
A few confessions right off the bat: neither of us is much for blogging. One of us (Alastair) reads them more than the other (Blake). But one of us (Blake) likes to write more than the other (Alastair). Together we both have much to say about Denver, though up till now we’ve tended to say it to each other.
So, a bit of history before we get going: we both moved here from different cities on different coasts. Big cities. One could even say real cities. OK, one would. One of these cities has a population that is actually double the size of the entire population of the state in which Denver is located. And the other city is located in a state whose population is about seven times that of Colorado.
And we’ve been here for a combined total (between the two of us) of about five years. We moved here for jobs – jobs that we generally like, at least well enough to move to a strange and geometrically shaped state for – and got to know each other through friends, friends who remain in those real cities.
Though we are both gays, we are not gay together. As gays of both sexes know, this is not only possible but also the likelier situation, in that not all gays want to sleep with each other simply by dint of their shared homosexuality. But the straights tend to get confused about these things sometimes so we thought we’d clarify.
And finally, we don’t much like it here. There are a few perks: the weather is usually good (though don’t take today as exemplifying that, ‘cause it’s currently hideous outside). People are generally friendly. It’s very pretty. Rents are super low. The airport is a big hub, which means escape is both affordable and convenient (though the airport itself is not, in that it’s basically in Kansas). There are tons of outdoor activities, if you like that sort of thing (we don’t). And there are some good restaurants (this is the one aspect of Denver’s cultural life about which you will generally not hear us complain).
But other than that, it kind of sucks. So join us as we recount the complaints and foibles and rants and occasional good reviews of two transplanted gay urbanites who are Down and Out in Denver.
6 comments