Check, Please! Bay Area
I’ve been traveling back and forth between Denver and San Francisco over the past year to see my Gentleman Friend. And one of the things I’ve discovered in my time in the Bay Area is a public television show called “Check, Please! Bay Area.” I love it. More than I can probably describe to you in this post. This is the deal: Three “regular Bay Area residents” apply to be on the show by picking a favorite restaurant and extolling its virtues. When they are selected they are given the names of two other restaurants. All three people visit each other’s favorite restaurants and assemble for the taping of the show, which is hosted by Leslie Sbrocco, oenophile and foodie. And this is where the fun begins! They all sit around talking about their experiences at the three restaurants. Things remain calm if everyone is in agreement about how wonderful they all are. But that is rarely the case. Usually at least one person doesn’t like another’s very favorite restaurant. And it can be all kinds of uncomfortable as one person is either aggressively or apologetically critical, all while Leslie tries to smooth things over. The production values are pretty low and the awkwardness level can be well nigh excruciating because many people in the Bay Area are WACKY, but it is, quite simply, addictive. I can’t get enough. I can talk about CP!BA in the way that I can talk about my favorite NPR reporters: obsessively. And that includes talking about its host, Leslie Sbrocco, who is herself a polarizing figure, even amongst people otherwise devoted to the show. I adore all of her quirks and her awkwardness; she drives some people insane.
The show is great, however, not just for entertainment, but of course because you can go visit any of the restaurants reviewed! For instance, I have now been to two of the three restaurants featured in Episode 5 of Season 5 (above), neither of which I would have known about without CP!BA. Marnee Thai (locations in the Inner and Outer Sunset) is the best Thai I’ve had in the Bay Area and certainly better than anything I’ve had in Denver (and I’ve been to Thailand). And on Friday night, my Gentleman Friend took me to Chez Spencer for my birthday. We had a true feast, which included a number of the dishes featured on this episode of CP!BA: the pan seared sea scallops with hearts of palm; the steamed asparagus with shaved parmesan and truffle emulsion; and the filet mignon with morels and truffle oil. We also ordered the foie gras and the my GF had the venison. We split the profiteroles for dessert. Tucked away in the Mission on 14th at Folsom, Chez Spencer is a bit unexpected in that neighborhood. And while it wasn’t cheap, it was delicious and romantic and the service was excellent. And we knew about it because of the wonders of Check, Please! Bay Area.
So what does all of this have to do with Denver, you ask? I want such a show here! I’m not fully convinced that we have the restaurants to support it, but I think we could swing it. The show in SF covers the entire Bay Area — suburbs from San Jose all the way up through Marin — so they’ve drawn their boundaries generously. We could even just do the whole state or everything within two hours of Denver, say. Chicago also has its own version (in 2001 state senator Barack Obama was on to talk about his favorite restaurant.) What do you think, Denver foodies? Check Please! Denver?
Birthday Dinner at Grant Family Farms
Flowers and Wine at GFF
Every year to celebrate our birthdays, which are quite close to each other, my gal pals Historiann and ej and I go out to dinner. Alas, ej has moved out of state recently so she was unable to accompany us, but we toasted her repeatedly. (Were your ears ringing last night, ej?) This year Historiann suggested that we have dinner at Grant Family Farms. Dinner at a farm, you ask? Why yes, indeed. Grant Family Farms of Wellington (just north of Fort Collins) is both a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) farm with members and a supplier to restaurants and, one presumes, grocery stores and the like. And they have begun a series of dinners on the farm that include music, entertainment and tours. So last night Historiann, Dr. Mr. Historiann, and I got back to the land. And what an adventure we had.
We decided to live it up — as well as avoid driving — by spending the night at the lovely Armstrong Hotel in downtown Fort Collins. The Armstrong offers a discount to those participating in the Grant Farm dinners. And one can take a shuttle bus — a brightly painted former school bus — from the Sports Authority parking lot, just a few blocks away. The bus, driven by the friendly Maria, dropped us off at the Farm around 4:00. And we were immediately treated to a delicious selection of hors d’oeuvres: dates wrapped in bacon; fresh vegetables; MouCo ColoRouge and Camembert cheeses; Il Mondo Vecchio cured meats. And wine and cocktails, too. We were particularly fond of a very refreshing cucumber and mint gin and tonic. I am a huge fan of the G&T and I usually don’t like it messed with, but this was very tasty and something I might just have to try at home.
Bus as Chicken Coop
Grant Family Farms is not just a family business, it’s also a family business, if you know what I mean, not at all what I was expecting in northern Colorado. I was very much at home. After a walk around the beautiful grounds we all hopped back on the bus — cocktails in hand — for a tour of the farm. We bumped down the lane as farmer Chelsea explained how the farm works. They farm about 2,000 acres, 600 of which they own; the rest they lease. They harvest an astounding array of fruits, vegetables, flowers, and trees: eggplants, tomatoes, parsley, onions, raspberries, basil, sunflowers, and so much more. They grow more cilantro than anywhere in the nation outside of Arizona and California. Everything — including all the chicken, ducks, geese, and pigs — are raised organically and many of the chickens live in roving coops fashioned out of old school buses.
Before the Feast Commenced
Following the tour it was time for our four-course meal. We began with a Romaine and butter lettuce salad, topped with poblano vinaigrette, wax beans, carrots, and tomatoes. Then came a very tasty green pepper stuffed with Lebanese zucchini, corn, Anaheim peppers, and cherry tomatoes. It was served with goat cheese and a cabbage slaw. I had just eaten two courses without meat and I was satisfied; who knew? Following a brief interlude of dancing and hula hooping — music courtesy of Cowboy Jazz — we were served our main course: oven roasted duck with wilted spinach, cauliflower, and spicy pico de gallo. This was definitely my favorite of the four courses. Dessert was a peach cobbler with a biscuit and a surprise flavored ice cream (it was Cap’n Crunch!). Food was prepared by the staff of Café Vino and the wines were courtesy of Vintages. Dinner is served at a very long table, set with beautiful flowers from the farm. After a couple glasses of wine had loosened everyone up we were chatting with our table neighbors from Fort Collins, Boulder, and Denver, many of whom are members of the farm and regularly partake of their eggs, vegetables, or milk.
Fire Dancers Perform Mid-Meal. It was even more dramatic in the dark.
But the fun was just beginning! After dinner and in between sets by Cowboy Jazz, fire dancers performed in the dark. Two dancers had ropes that were lit at each end and then swung round rhythmically in a coordinated routine. As we lounged on blankets spread out on the lawn, the fire dancers lit up the night sky. And then there were fireworks! One must say this for the staff of Grant Family Farms: they pull out all the stops to insure that their guests have a good time. I was expecting fresh and tasty food, maybe even a tour, but the cocktails, the music, the performers, and the fireworks made this so much more than just a dinner out; it was an extravaganza. For those interested, GFF will be hosting a two-day Harvestival on September 11th and 12th: tours, activities for kids, a farmer’s market, and live music (featuring the one and only Judy Collins!). If Harvestival is anything like their dinners, it’s sure to be a good (and tasty!) time.
Happy Birthday ej! Happy Birthday Historiann!
Modernism and Beyond
Friday evening was quite the experience for your DOD boys. They did indeed go to the Denver Modernism Show, but they did so much else last night as well.
Free drinks, entertainment, and special guests were the rule of thumb at the Denver Modernism Show Early VIP Gala… and they use the term gala very loosely. Black Tie it was not. Blake and I had the pleasure of being some of the first to shop the show, alongside our fellow modernism enthusiasts: Mr. and Ms. B, and the fashionable, Ginger Snap. We were kindly greeted, on multiple occasions, by Charles Phoenix, the self-proclaimed “King of Retro.” Our VIP tickets got us two free cocktails: Your choice of Mai Tai, Blue Hawaiian, or some other rum cocktail at the fabulously decorated Tiki Bar. Blake don’t care for rum, but I’ll drink just about anything, especially if it comes free with admission and an umbrella. We were also treated to live music, heavily tattooed hula girls, and some unmemorable entertainment. Yours truly fell in love with some serious chartreuse colored champagne/sherbet cocktail glasses (see below) by the versatile Russel Wright, designed to complement his recently reissued American Modern dinnerware. At twenty dollars a piece, I had to painfully pass, but they would have been a spectacular addition to a mid-century modern themed New Year’s Eve party.
Keeping in line with the mid-century theme, Ms. B suggested dinner and drinks at Bastien’s Restaurant and Steakhouse, located on East Colfax Avenue, near the Bluebird Theater. Blake has visited Bastien’s before, but this was Alastair’s first visit. Let’s say my expectations were not high, but I was tremendously pleased with my entire experience.
Bastien’s is an old school steakhouse and bar with an interesting architectural design. Started by William Bastien in 1937 when he bought out the Moon Drive Inn, the present twelve-sided building was constructed in 1958 and has a sort of subtle Googie flair—an exaggerated modern architectural style seen in the coffee shops, bowling alleys, and motels of the 1950s and 1960s. After a drink at the bar lounge, Blake and I, alongside Mr. and Ms. B and Ginger Snap sat down for a wonderful dining experience. Now, Bastien’s is not inexpensive, but compared to the prices we pay at Potager, this was a bargain and we were well fed! We all started with salads. I had the Caesar, while everyone else had the Ice Berg wedge with Blue cheese dressing and bacon crumbles. My salad came with grilled romaine, a very nice touch, and plenty of shaved parmesan cheese and croutons, along with a tasty balsamic reduction and a DOD favorite, anchovies! Ms. B received something that looked more like half a head of lettuce, rather than a wedge. But who’s complaining!
Moving onto dinner, Blake ordered LaLa’s Steak, a ten ounce New York steak grilled with fresh lime and cracked pepper, served with fresh peppers and pico de gallo. Mr. and Ms. B went with a German theme. Mr. B enjoyed his Beef Liver sautéed with onions, “just like mom made,” and seasoned mashed potatoes. Ms. B seemed very pleased with her wiener schnitzel. Ginger had the pork chop special and I chose the ten ounce New York with Deep Fried Shrimp. It came with a reasonably sized baked potato with sour cream, butter, cheese, and chives, and the steak was perfectly cooked to a true medium rare. Delicious! We ended our meal with some apple pie sizzling skillet dessert with vanilla ice cream. The perfect ending to a perfect meal.
After going our separate ways, Blake and I enjoyed a brisk walk down Colfax to grab ourselves a night-cap at HER BAR located at Colfax and Washington. According to the website Fridays at HER BAR are FemmeBar with DJ Love, who seemed to be spinning an eclectic mix of 80s new wave and current hits by Usher, Gaga, and others. We grabbed ourselves a seat at the bar and a drink. Blake was intrigued by reruns of The Nanny projected onto an interior wall. Is Fran Drescher a lesbian? Is there some lesbian connection that we DOD boys are unaware of? Clearly, the Nanny was a gay icon… I mean look at those highlight clips on YouTube. Just saying.
In any case, the DOD boys seemed to be a magnet for the more interesting ladies enjoying themselves last night. My friend, whose name I did not catch, was clearly a fan of the drink. Tired of waiting for a refill and patience running thin, she decided to continually stand then sit until finally waving her hands in the air as though she was directing a 747 from its final approach to the gate. Blake’s lady friend, Nila, was much cuter than mine… but perhaps just as drunk. I don’t know much about Nila, but the girl liked to dance… and apparently found the two of us very interesting. We later met her gal pal Fay, who had no idea “what was going on.” As the night went on, Nila became even more friendly. I think she may have slightly molested Blake as Fay and I chatted offline. I hope that Nila understood that she wasn’t going to get very far. In any case, we found HER (or HER, or HER, or HER) BAR lots of fun and an amusing way to end the evening. We’ll be back Nila, don’t you worry your pretty little big pocket shorts! And the DOD boys will have their dancing shoes with them next time!
El Diablo
Your DOD boys did indeed go to the newly opened El Diablo last night, but they did so much else last night as well. Read on…
Alastair was an early convert to Denver B-Cycle. It took me longer, largely because I don’t mind walking everywhere. But I just joined, and last night was to be my very first night using a B-Cycle. I signed up Friday online and was told that while my membership card would not arrive for a little while (understandably) I could use the credit card that I’d registered with in order to take out a bike. It was not to be. I inserted said card at the B-Cycle station at Boulder and 16th in the Highlands: not recognized, no membership. As I waited on hold with B-Cycle headquarters I walked over the Highland Bridge to the station at 16th and Platte. The nice gentleman on the other end of the phone told me there was a glitch in the system and that it wasn’t fixable right now. However, I could sign up for a $5 one-day membership that he would reimburse to my credit card. Done. Except that when I tried to take out a bike the system froze. No luck. Alastair advised me there was a station across the park at 16th and Little Raven. There I finally met with success. I sailed off down the Cherry Creek Trail (on the pedestrian side; I’m still getting acquainted with bicycling etiquette) to meet Alastair at Sketch Wine Bar for a glass of vinho verde, served up by the ever-friendly J.D.
Update: Denver B-Cycle called me on Monday and has straightened out the entire problem with the credit card. Seems like they run a pretty tight ship!
Red Lights over the bar at El Diablo
Alastair had arrived at El Diablo before me and put our names on the waiting list before heading over to Sketch (located next door and also run by Jesse Morreale, who brought us Tambien, Mezcal, and La Rumba). Midway through our second glass of wine at Sketch, we were approached by one of the hosts at El Diablo: had we put our names on the list? Indeed we had. Now that’s service! While the host and hostess were indeed very accommodating, the table service left a little to be desired. Granted, it was their second night in action, but we waited a long time to have our order taken, and even longer to have it actually appear. While some of the waitstaff seemed to be wandering around aimlessly, ours was often nowhere to be found or rushed by our table without looking at us. The food and drinks were tasty, though nothing remarkably special. We started with chips y tres salsas and two very tall glasses of sangria. The salsas were good, if a little runny, and the sangria — perhaps because so plentiful — was pretty watery and devoid of much fruit flavor. (The pricier sangria made with more fruit was unavailable last night.) Our tacos — one order of carne asada y papas and one order of carnitas with salsa — were very tasty, though the tortillas had become hardened and brittle. And our very small sides of rice and beans — at $4.95 each — were overpriced and underwhelming. It was opening weekend so Alastair and I agreed we’d give it another chance. The place is packed and the atmosphere is fun. It’s dark and the tacky red lights worked well with the bad plasticized tabletops. It reminded both of us of a place in the Mission in San Francisco called Velvet Cantina: hipster Mexican.
And we were off! A night of karaoke awaited us at Armida’s, site of a wild night in early May that I documented here. This was actually our gal pal’s Whitney’s birthday party and she once again delivered some stellar performances, even joining Alastair for a rendition of Estelle and Kanye’s “American Boy.” Alastair took Estelle’s part, natch. And they were not the only enthusiastic singers. A gang of six thirty-something straight guys got up to deliver a somewhat too rousing rendition of Bon Jovi’s “Blaze of Glory.” One couldn’t help but wonder if they were mourning their own youth, gone in the aforementioned blaze. And there was even a lady fight! Involving actual punches. One very drunken young woman (part of an entourage of mid-20s women in strappy dresses and large engagement rings; is this Denver?) took a swing at another young woman who had spent most of her awful rendition of Cher’s “If I Could Turn Back Time” trying to show off her quads to the audience. Oh my. It was not pretty.
Stay tuned for Alastair’s report on our delicious (and boozy) Sunday brunch at Root Down…
Late Night Meal Deal
My Oklahoman gal pal and I met up for drinks last Friday to play a little catch up. Looking for something different we decided to try out a new spot: Park & Co. Located in the former Bump & Grind space at 17th and Pennsylvania, Park & Co. is the new outpost of South Pearl Street’s Park Burger. We grabbed a couple of seats at the L-shaped bar and ordered ourselves a glass of the Spanish rosé and a Manna-Hata. I know… Don’t get me started on “The New Yorker,” aka the Reuben sandwich. A “Colorado Manhattan,” the Manna-Hata is made with Stranahans Colorado Whiskey and Peach Street Brandy. The drinks tasted great, but we both thought the pours were rather conservative.
The bar service also left a lot to be desired. There seemed to be plenty of staff… keeping busy, but not on us. After enjoying our first round (and hoping to order another, in addition to an appetizer) our empty glasses sat on the bar for a good five minutes if not longer. The bar back even cleared them away before we had to wave down a bartender to order our second round and the spinach-artichoke dip.
I know it’s early in the game and some bugs need to be worked out, but given the service up to that point we decided to forgo the gamble and grabbed a bite at Steuben’s. I hope Park & Co. improves their service because I really want to try that Croque Burger, a 1/3 lb. Harris Ranch patty topped with fried egg, ham and swiss. In any case, our little detour down 17th to Steuben’s led us to one hell of a find: after 10 p.m. a cheeseburger, fries, and can of beer costs just $5. Yes, $5! Stop by Steuben’s anytime after 10 p.m. and you too can have one of the best meal deals in Denver.
Top Chef: Tiffany Kicks Ass
So I am generally of the opinion that Top Chef is the poor man’s Project Runway, but I watch it anyway. It’s just hard to know what to think because of course I can’t taste any of the food. That said, the format is totally fun and I have a serious crush on Gail Simmons that I find somewhat difficult to explain. (I’m very excited for her “Just Desserts.”)
Tiffany Derry cooks away
I’ve been watching this season, albeit sometimes a little behind schedule, and last night I caught Wednesday’s episode. I could not be happier! Tiffany Derry nabbed not only the quickfire but also the elimination challenge. This makes me happy for at least three reasons.
1. Tiffany is funny and enthusiastic and ebullient and I like her.
2. This show is almost always dominated by straight white men. It pains me when woman after woman gets eliminated. Thus far the winners have included one white woman and one Asian American man. All other winners and most finalists have been straight white men. (My heart still bleeds for Carla Hall.)
3. It is difficult for me to decide whether or not I was more pleased that Tiffany won or that Angelo lost. Twice. Just the look of pain on his face after her quickfire victory was enough to make the episode for me. Suck it, Angelo.
East Coat Adventures
While Alastair was soaking up the sun in Palm Springs – are you staying at a clothing-optional resort, Alastair? Enquiring minds want to know – I was having an East Coast adventure. It all began with a work trip last weekend to Rochester, New York; continued with four days at a friend’s cabin in the Adirondacks; then a night in New York City. I then joined some of my best gal pals from college for a road trip to West Virginia. For a gay wedding. I kid you not. Then back to New York, and finally back home. Some observations about my ten days on the road:
Pandora Boxx
Gay bars in Rochester are fun! Not only did we see Pandora Boxx, one-time star of RuPaul’s Drag Race perform live at the Tilt Nightclub and Ultralounge (more than a lounge, an ultra lounge), but we also hung out at Rochester’s Leather and Levi Bar, Bachelor Forum (a little lite on the leather and levi, it must be said, not that I’m complaining; they also have what can only be described as a gay sculpture garden out front), and the most fun was had at 140 Alex: karaoke, drag shows, great music, strong drinks. Best of all, it was as mixed as can be: people of all shades and hues, ladies and gents, butch and femme, even straight people! This is what seems to happen in small towns: less queer self-segregation. DOD approves.
The Garbage Plate at Nick Tahou's in Rochester
Rochester is known for something called the “garbage plate”: macaroni, beans, red hots (apparently some sort of spicy miniature hot dog), beef, and a variety of other delicious elements. Health.com has named the garbage plate the fattiest food in New York State. Needless to say, I did not partake, though I did have sushi. In Rochester. At a restaurant that “specialized” in the food of at least 5 Asian nations. And it wasn’t half bad. The rust belt surprises every once in a while.
The Adirondacks are lovely in July. Highs in the low 80s and overnights in the 60s. My gal pals and I swam, we boated, we ran, we ate ice cream at a stand called Northern Lights in a quaint lakeside town sitting on a bench. One of us (not me) prepared a delicious bourbon marinated (though he said marinaaaded) pork loin on the barbecue. We even hiked. In short, it was rather all-American. And that was not actually unpleasant.
I love New York City. Sometimes I miss it like I might miss an absent limb. I used to feel like my life continued on there even while I was physically in Denver. I am pretty much convinced that it is the center of the universe. That said, it is a foul disgusting humid pit of a city at the height of the summer. The nights were actually reasonable but during the day I was a sweaty mess and found myself missing the very dry heat of Denver, which doesn’t leave a boy feeling quite so unkempt. That said, I must have lost about three and a half pounds in water weight just walking around in one afternoon.
The Hillbrook Inn near Charles Town, WV
West Virginia is beautiful! I was a wee bit scared that four gay boys on a road trip to WV might well have difficulty making it out of the state alive, and while we definitely got a couple strange looks at a rest stop, we also had a fantastic time. We were staying at the Hillbrook Inn, a beautiful 1920s Tudor mansion converted to a bed and breakfast and the site was idyllic. Manicured lawns, patios and porches, and a stream running through the property all made it the ideal spot to lounge around with good friends for a weekend. They even provide quilts for that very lounging on the lawns. The wedding party had the whole place to itself and it turns out that the grooms’ other friends were lots of fun as well. We also ate well and drank ourselves silly. In short, it was all a wedding weekend should be, and this is coming from someone who objects to marriage.
Now, alas, back to work…
Amore Gelato
A coworker and I were on a recent hunt for ice-cold treats. Anything to ease the scorch of the day. After mentioning the yet to open Pinkberry, she suggested we stop by Amore Gelato at 16th and Welton. Amore Gelato is a Denver-based, locally owned and operated Italian-style frozen desserts shop. Though many of their ingredients (including dairy, such as milk, cream and yogurt) are purchased locally, they import a great deal of their base ingredients straight from Italy for a truly authentic gelato–the country’s regional variant of ice cream.
On the left: Tiramisu and Coconut. On the right: Grapefruit and Red Orange
I love gelato… Made with some of the same ingredients as most other frozen dairy desserts (milk, cream, various sugars, flavoring including fruit purees), gelato differs from ice cream in that it has a lower butterfat content and generally has slightly lower sugar content. It’s a denser product with more flavor than your typical American ice cream. High-quality gelato holds its peak flavor and texture (from delicate ice crystals) for only several days and that’s why Amore Gelato makes the small batches in the kitchen upstairs.
I tried a combination of tiramisu and coconut. Both were delicious! My coworker had the grapefruit and red orange (actually blood orange). The grapefruit was very refreshing. Just the thing for a hot summer afternoon. If you’re downtown and looking for gelato, Amore gelato is probably you’re only option. It’s a great option to have and I know I’ll be spending more time here as summer passes.
“Makes Me Want A Hot Dog Real Bad.”
This heat, and the fact that I was bedridden for the Fourth of July, means only one thing. I’m craving a hot dog real bad. And, I’m thinking a Chicago dog is the way to go. It only happens two or maybe three times a year. So, you may catch Alastair at Steve’s Snappin’ Dogs on Colfax this weekend.
Have a favorite place to grab a dog? Let me know!
Denver’s Love of Plastic
You may be wondering what has become of your DOD boys. Well, in between recovering from Gay Pride in SF, celebrating American Independence (Happy Belated 4th of July!), and Alastair coming down with a nasty case of strep throat, we have been all kinds of busy. So while I do not have any restaurant reviews (Alastair was really not fit for public), I can share with you my musings on Denver’s love affair with the credit card.
When I first moved to Denver a few years ago I noticed that people here used credit and debit cards much more often than I was used to. People paid for just about everything with them and some people I knew rarely seemed to visit an ATM, only occasionally getting cash back at the grocery store. It seems to me that there are pluses and minuses to this reliance upon plastic (leaving aside the issue of debt and credit, a whole other story).
On one hand I appreciate the willingness of Denver restaurants to split a check three or four ways. Alastair and I were at a birthday dinner last year at a local DOD fave and the waiter split the check 16 ways without blinking; I kid you not. It makes life easier not having to calculate everything or carry around a ton of cash.
On the other hand, I find it seriously irritating when people never have cash. Ever. And when they insist on paying for very small purchases with a card. Have you ever been in line at JR’s when someone paid for one cocktail with a credit card? And there is a line? And JRs still has a completely antiquated credit card machine? ’Cause I have. And it’s annoying. A drink, especially at JRs, costs about 5 bucks (sometimes much less). This is precisely the scenario in which those green pieces of paper come in very handy, not just for you but for everyone behind you in line as well.
There are still cities in this venerable country of ours where some restaurants and stores do not accept credit cards. In Denver I feel certain that such an establishment would go out of business. But I kind of admire their unwillingness to bend on this issue. They prominently display “Cash Only” on the menus and on signs on the door to prepare you, and they are more than willing to direct you to the nearest ATM, but they will not be accepting your plastic. Bully for them, I say. Keep up the good fight!
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