More Pizza By the Bay
I know, I know, I write about pizza often enough that you think I eat nothing else. Lately, this has been close to true. I’ve been in the Bay Area again, visiting the Gentleman Friend, and have sampled some of the fine pies that these cities have to offer.
The GF and I went to Marzano on College Street in Oakland with my friends Jason and Erin. Readers may recall that it was Jason who introduced me to the delights of Gioia, “the best pizza west of the Jersey Turnpike.” Well, he swore that this place was pretty good as well. And Jason knows his pizza. Marzano is part bar, part restaurant, and every night after 10, almost all of their wood-fired Neapolitan pies are $10. Appetizers and drinks are also pretty deeply discounted. A very enthusiastic hostess got us a few cocktails (in fact, she might have gotten herself one or two as well, so enthusiastic was she) and we perused the menu while we waited for a table. I asked Jason if we just got one pie for the four of us. I have never heard so many “No”s in such quick succession in my life. The GF estimated it might have been 14 all told. Jason recommended three, and so that’s what we ordered once we were seated. But first we tucked into a bowl of fritto misto that Alastair would have loved (he loves him some fritto misto): this was asparagus, cauliflower, and fennel, and served with a spicy aioli it was mighty tasty. Then our pizzas arrived: a traditional pepperoni; house fennel sausage with provolone, tomato, wild oregano, and broccoli rabe; and the meatball marinara with tomato, pecorino romano, chili flakes, garlic, and arugula. Um yeah, we like meat. And the pizza was pretty great: thin and well cooked, great cheese, and all the ingredients were fantastic. It’s definitely of the fancy variety, but sometimes fancy is just what you want, especially when accompanied by equally fancy cocktails at reduced prices. Well done, Marzano!
CyBelle's Pizza on 14th Street at Market and Church
The next morning I was meeting friends in the city of San Francisco and decided that, even though I’d had plenty of pizza the night before, I would stop by one of my favorite pizza joints for lunch: CyBelle’s, located on 14th Street, just around the corner from the intersection of Church and Market. CyBelle’s only has two seats at a counter as well as a small table outside so it’s best to either order for delivery or take your slice to go, but I was lucky enough to nab one of the counter seats. CyBelle’s reminds me more of a New York slice: a little thicker, definitely bigger, and plenty greasy, but with fantastic flavor. If pretty much any variety of pizza feels slightly unhealthy, this is about twice as bad, and even more delicious for being so.
And, dear reader, it didn’t stop there. Two days later I went out to dinner with the GF and his sister. We went to Zachary’s Pizza, also on College in Oakland. While they do have regular thin crust pies, they specialize in Chicago style deep dish. I sometimes think that deep dish should be given a different name. I’m not totally sure that it’s the same thing as pizza. Of course it isn’t the same thing but I actually think it’s so different that calling it pizza is a bit of a misnomer. While I can get over the enormous crust, what disturbs me most about deep dish is that it seems more like a chunky tomato soup in a bread bowl with occasional signs of cheese. Too often I also can’t taste the other toppings either. This is not meant to be a bad review of Zachary’s in particular — it certainly has many fans — just of the entire genre of pizza in which they specialize (is that better or worse as an indictment?). To me melted cheese is probably at least 50% of the point of pizza and so it’s hard for me to get enthusiastic about a type of pizza where the cheese is so very often unlocatable at all. I’ll take a greasy slice of mediocre thin crust pizza over deep dish any day.
But I didn’t have to, because soon thereafter I went back to Gioia and it was just as good as ever.
Two Slices of Gioia's Cheese Pie
Happy St. Patrick’s Day
Top o’ the mornin’ to ya! If you missed the Denver St. Patrick’s Day Parade on Saturday, never fear… here are three options around town to get your green on. Just promise Alastair you will stay away from those disconcerting “green” doughnuts at King Soopers. Have fun, and be safe!
Katie Mullens, 1550 Court St. Remember the former Supreme Court bar… located in downtown’s Adam’s Mark Hotel? I know, tough times… Well, the “100% Irish owned and operated” Katie Mullens replaced the sad state of affairs and while it’s a little overwhelming at over 11,500 sq feet, it’s conveniently located on the 16th Street Mall.
Fado, 1735 19th St. Fado has been celebrating St. Pat’s Day all weekend long at its LoDo location and bright n’ early this morning at 8:00 a.m. I needed my “coffee” on the way to the office… just saying.
Irish Snug, 1201 E. Colfax Ave. The Irish Snug holds its fifth annual “hooley” to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. An outdoor tent has been set up on the premises for the three days. The Snug is the one place I hear most consistently mentioned when it comes to Irish pubs in Denver. With a shout out from the ladies over at The Denver Omelette, who can resist.
UPDATE: If you’re looking for something GREEN and GAY, check out these suggestions, courtesy of EleMENent.
Denver's City and County Building ablaze in green!
The Heidelberg… Fantastisch!
I grew up in a rather small suburb of an East Coast city far, far away… It wasn’t always a life of bright lights and big cities for dear, old Alastair. Right next door to my hometown was an even smaller town named Heidelberg. As you might imagine, it was a community primarily occupied by immigrants: Irish, Polish, Ukrainian, Italian, and German. Thanks to this experience, I love a good pierogi, pampushky, and golumpki (aka stuffed cabbage rolls) every so often. So, when I stumbled across the Heidelberg, located at 1270 Marion Street, it was love at first sight.
My mother had a wonderful collection of German beer steins and I often have thoughts of passing the Heidelberg one day… door ajar… and sounds of German drinking and beer garden songs coming from within… Tausend Fasser Bier or Kranzerl Polka. Who doesn’t love a good old German Oom-Pah Band!? A boy can dream…
Aren't you boys cold in those shorts?!
Das Heidelberg ist fantastisch!
Project Runway Confusion
Alastair and I are confirmed addicts of the ever watchable Project Runway. And we’ve been enjoying this season much more than the predictable snoozefest that was Season 6. We’ve even gotten used to the movie advertisements that invite us to head “on over to LMN” to check out “Amish Grace” or “The Pregnancy Pact.” Oh, Lifetime….
Seth Aaron Henderson. Need I say more?
What we can’t get used to, however, is Seth Aaron Henderson’s continued appearance in the Top Three. What is up with this? He clearly styles himself some sort of rocker and continually designs in black and leather. And it just doesn’t work. Alastair and I are no stranger to muted colors; I’m sure I wear more black and gray than anything else. But this just looks so terribly dated. And forced. And like he’s attempting — both in his own ensembles and bad hair, as well as what he designs — to be something that he is not.
Stella B. Zotis at a confused moment
He reminds me just a teeny tiny bit of one of my very favorites from seasons past, Stella B. Zotis. Except that with her, you believed it. She had the accent and rode a Harley and had a boyfriend named Ratbones. Seth Aaron (yes, with the perpetual two names), not so much…
Over on Models of the Runway, however, we are thrilled, thrilled I tell you, that Alexis (the crazy witch — her claim, not ours — from Denver) was kicked off and that the ever lovely Cerri has finally hit her stride and found a designer (in the talented and funny Jonathan) who knows how to treat her right. We’re ready for next week. And we’re still awaiting the moment — included in the season’s opening teaser — when one of the models refuses to work with the designer who selects her. Stay tuned…
Alexander McQueen’s Final Show
Armand Limnander of the New York Times Style Magazine was recently invited to view some of the last pieces that Alexander McQueen had been working on before his death. For fifteen minutes, in a grand Paris drawing room, Alexander McQueen came back to life. The short commentary features a slideshow of McQueen’s final collection.
Says Limnander, “Artworks by Jean Fouquet, Sandro Boticelli, Stephan Lochner, Hans Memling, Hugo van der Goes and Hieronymus Bosch were captured digitally and transferred onto red, gold and silver dresses embellished with ornate embroideries. At this point, not much more can be said about the brilliance of McQueen’s work.”
Alexander McQueen's last collection. Photograph: Catwalking.com
Tessa McKillop
In my former life, I remember a good gal pal of mine purchasing one of those new Volkswagen Beetles… and then, within an instant, they were to be found all over the city. Well, I spotted my first Tessa McKillop at Design After Dark back in January and I’ve been seeing them with some frequency ever since….. and reading about them, too.
Highly crafted, McKillop’s large-scale, black-and-white portraits (often confused for photographs) are full of emotion. They’re much too striking not to be experienced in person. I highly suggest stopping by Sputnik on S. Broadway while you can to see them for yourself. Next thing you know, you’ll be spotting them all over town, too.
Oscar Feast!
My friend Nancy is visiting from out of town for the weekend and so on Saturday night Alastair and I decided to take her to our very favorite Denver restaurant, Potager (see Alastair’s very favorable review here). It was, and it pains me to say this, a little disappointing. The appetizers — wilted savory greens, spinach and mushroom toast — were both fantastic. The main courses, however, not so much. The shellfish stew was more broth with scallops and mussels than it was stew as I understand the term, all topped off with a saffron aioli, which proceeded to disintegrate into unappetizing floating clumps in the broth. I like mayonnaise in pretty much any form but this was distinctly unappetizing. Nancy and Alastair both got the roast chicken and while the bird itself was well cooked, the jumble of accompaniments just didn’t work that well, and seemed to be different from what usually comes with the chicken. This time: arugula, dried apples(?), pine nuts, olives, and about fifteen other things. One got the impression that Potager might have been trying to clean out its fridge. The flourless chocolate cake, however, was divine. And the service, as always, was fantastic.
Alastair's Sardine Toast with my Canadian Flag Cocktail Napkins and Grandmother's Monogram Plates
But after a disappointing dinner Alastair and I felt duty-bound to prepare something pretty fantastic for the out-of-towner, especially as we were going to be settling in for a long night of Oscar-watching chez moi. And a veritable feast it was! We began with Alastair’s signature sardine toast: sardines, lemon, mustard, minced onion, oil, and butter, all combined and then toasted on a baguette. Delicious.
Caesar Salad with PLENTY of Anchovies
Loyal DOD readers may recall that Alastair and I have ordered a number of disappointing Caesar salads of late, so I decided it was time to make it right. I used my grandmother’s recipe for the dressing (as well as her bowl), fried my own croutons (pictured below) and Alastair brought over plenty of anchovies. It was all topped off by some grated parmesan, and I have to say it was pretty amazing. Tangy and salty and crunchy and thoroughly unhealthy, the croutons particularly. I think it was seeing the amount of butter and oil I used that might have given Nancy a heart attack, not the croutons themselves.
Homemade Croutons cooked in a gallon of oil and pound of butter
English Cucumber
We finished the meal with a delicious pasta salad prepared by Alastair: shrimp, dill, and English cucumbers, all tossed with perfectly cooked shell pasta and a tangy lemony dressing. Unfortunately my pictures of this scrumptious concoction all came out blurry. Maybe a consequence of all the wine we had consumed by that point?
On to the Oscars: We began eating and drinking and watching at 4:00 as E! began its red carpet coverage. I always find these things a little bit painful as the hosts bend over backwards to ingratiate themselves with the celebrities. Though we were grateful it wasn’t Joan and Melissa Rivers, Ryan Seacrest wasn’t much of an improvement. I just felt embarrassed for him. That said, he was leagues better than the horrendous Kathy Ireland, Sherri Shepherd, and Jess Cagle, who were hosting ABC’s half-hour coverage before the show actually began. Ireland, looking far too skinny, was, in a word, wooden. And yet absurdly peppy at the same time!!!! All inflection seemed to be thoroughly rehearsed. Please take her away and never let her do this again!
The awards went to the predicted winners. There weren’t really any surprises. We all cheered for Kathryn Bigelow as much for the fact that she beat out her ex-husband, James Cameron as for her being the first woman to win an Oscar for directing. Suck it, Jimmy! And I loved Sandra Bullock’s remarkably gracious acceptance speech, as she wittily acknowledged the other actresses in her category, gave a shout-out to mothers, and spoke about her own mother’s influence, particularly her insistence that no person, regardless of race, religion, color, class, or sexual orientation, is better than anyone else. I am also very much a fan of the format where each best actor/actress nominee gets a little speech delivered by someone who knows them. Many were quite touching.
As for dress, the real reason to watch, it was the general consensus of the room that the following looked horrible: Vera Farmiga (even though we love her); SJP (who fiddled with her neckline the whole night and seemed to have bathed in bronzer); Charlize Theron (who has to really work to look bad); Zoe Saldana (were those ornamental cabbages on her dress?); Kate Winslet (great from the waist up but otherwise seemed to be wearing separates, not a dress; maybe a twinset?); and Miley Cyrus. We were fans of the sartorial choices of Sandra Bullock, Rachel McAdams (Canadian!), Queen Latifah (all hail the Queen!), Carey Mulligan (hair, not dress), Julianne Moore, Helen Mirren, and Oprah Winfrey. George Clooney’s hair was horrendous and his attitude even worse. And finally, James Cameron’s wife needs to investigate the power of food; not only is it tasty, it also covers up your jutting collar bone!
The Gaucho
You may have read my past posts (here, and here) regarding my obsession with Capitol Hill apartments and more specifically the unrelated names often given to them. Well, I’ve made little progress finding out why the trend is so prevalent in Denver, especially when compared to the other cities I’ve lived in. However, that’s not going to stop me from continuing to share these little gems with all of you. I’ve also decided to make the experience a lot more fun for everyone. Introducing the Gaucho, located at E. 12th Avenue and Clarkson.
Gaucho, 1201 Clarkson
Don’t be fooled, the Gaucho is an apartment building, not a church.
Gaucho Signage
The gaucho… a romantic image of the past, represented freedom from colonial control… the dusty boots, poncho, his bandy legs, and an untamed spirit. Massive estancias. I present to you the Gaucho, re-imagined:
The Gaucho: Reimagined
Deluxe Burger: Love in a Bun
Last night Blake and I joined a few of our best gal pals to try out Deluxe Burger, the newly opened joint venture between chef Dylan Moore (of the restaurant Deluxe and neighboring bar Delite) and mid-century furniture outlet Mod Livin’ on East Colfax Avenue. The place was jumping!
With their use of bold color, large-scale George Nelson bubble lamps, and customized furniture they’ve transformed a dreary former liquor store into a gourmet, chef-driven burger joint were everything on the menu is made in-house, including the ketchup, mustard, pickles, and fries.
In addition to standard burgers, made with Angus beef, ground free-range chicken, and ground ahi tuna, the concise menu offers up a number of “signature burgers” without being over-whelming. These include a BBQ Burger, the Spicy Tuna Burger, and a Truffle Burger. Nothing knocked the seven of us off of our chairs (well, perhaps the Diet Coke that Blake ordered in a bottle he had never seen before…. and Blake’s had a lot of Diet Coke), but we were all very pleased with our choices… enough so that most of us will return to try out more of the menu.
The Denver Burger
I had the Denver Burger, which came with sautéed Anaheim chilies, onions, pico, cheddar cheese, and smoked jalapeno aioli. It was a great tasting burger. I personally wanted to experience a little more spice or smoke considering all the ingredients the burger was topped with. Blake enjoyed his Basil BLT Chicken Burger, and the Truffle Burger with shiitake mushrooms and truffled swiss cheese was a hit.
One thing that we all generally agreed upon was that the fries could use some fine-tuning. Now, you’re not going to be able to please everyone. For instance, Blake likes his fries thinner (shocking!) and crispy. In fact, I think he was so upset that he ate most if not all of the accompanying ketchup… and Blake don’t eat ketchup! Is it ketchup if it doesn’t come out of a bottle? That’s another discussion… I like the crispy thin fries, but I also really enjoy a thicker cut steak fry like my mother made in the Fry Daddy. Let’s face it… I love my potatoes. It’s the Irish blood in me body.
Deluxe Tuna Burger and Truffle & Parm Fries
Deluxe offers “Fat Fries” (do fries make you fat?) that fall closer to my personal preference. We all felt that the hand cut fries with fresh thyme and garlic could have been crispier… it wasn’t that they were underdone, but maybe they needed another toss in the oil. Oddly enough the truffle and parm fries had more of the crisp everyone was after. Perhaps it was the addition of the parmesan?
One member of our team had the homemade tomato soup topped with fresh basil…. I think he enjoyed it! Another had the Orangecicle Shake which I now wish I had ordered.
Home Made Tomato Soup w/ Fresh Basil
When ordering I asked the cashier whether the Denver Burger was messy, she told me that “all of our burgers are messy” and when it came to eating them, it was recommended that we leave the burger inside the half-wrapper that they serve it in. This did make it easier to eat, but some of those juices still escaped from our clutches. That said, we were all very impressed by how well the Kaiser buns held up and tasted!
All I know is that my meal got me through the rest of the evening which involved some heavy drinking… I woke up this morning feeling great and looking fabulous. Thanks Deluxe Burger!
Burger Juice!
Next on our list of burger joints, H-Burger in the Sugar Cube building on the 16th Street Mall. Stay tuned.
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