Yesterday, I was absolutely craving sushi. It is for sure one of my favorite meals, and if I could, I would spend half my paycheck every 2 weeks at none other than Sushi Den. A few days ago, doktameri and I met for lunch at Hapa down in Cherry Creek, and it was a totally forgettable experience. So forgettable that I forgot to write about it until now. Every time I go somewhere else for sushi, I regret it, and I agonize over a meal that I missed at Sushi Den because I chose to be unfaithful...
By 5pm, my craving was overwhelming, so Mr. M, doktameri, and I showed up there REALLY early, and on a Monday night to boot. Now, I've commented on Monday nights eating out in Denver in other posts, so it is significant to note that there were actually a lot of people at Sushi Den at 5pm on Monday. It was nowhere near full, but it was already doing a lot better than many other spots in town. Of course this is no surprise to any of you who have ever tried to get a table at this restaurant at or after 7pm. We had actually driven by (out of sheer lunacy) on Saturday night at 6:30 (which is when my craving actually began...I'd been nursing it awhile), and there were scads of people spilling out of the restaurant onto the sidewalk waiting for a table. (Mr. M and I promptly turned around, and that's how we ended up at Pete's that night.)
One day, I'd love to sit at the sushi bar and just eat omakase, but none of my regular dining companions are quite ready for that yet. And Mr. M would probably have to find a second job to finance it. So we settled at a table, proceeding as usual to order the usual suspects. Mr. M had never had sushi until I married him and forced him to accompany me, but he has made some amazing strides in the past 6 years, and he is now really beginning to enjoy it the past few years. At least that's what he tells me. Maybe for the sake of maintaining marital harmony and peace.
Anyway, Mr. M enjoys the Kobe beef roll (I know, not real sushi, but delicious anyway) and the Hotate aburi (a fresh, lightly seared, smokey, tender scallop). He likes tuna, salmon, yellowtail, the house roll (eel and avocado). He likes most things, but is still developing a taste for the more exotic and "fishy" fish. I, on the other hand, am pretty adventurous and will eat most anything. I really love uni (sea urchin) - the soft texture, lightly briny flavor, and creamy smooth umami taste. Mr. M tried a tiny corner of it last night, and he didn't make a face. I don't think it was as bad as he expected, but I don't think he really enjoyed it either. Maybe it is an acquired taste.
The best $6 you'll ever spend though is on one lovely piece of toro nigiri. Buttery, melt-in-your-mouth goodness that transports you heavenward... It's one of the most expensive things you can order here, but it's worth every penny. Even Mr. M agrees that there is nothing like it. It's like heroin - I can't stop eating it, no matter how much it costs me. It is truly in a league of its own. But we judiciously allowed only 2 pieces per person.
It's always a bit embarassing to me to blow $50 a person in an hour (without alcohol), but by 6pm we were leaving the restaurant, our bellies full and our wallets lighter. I think I'm going to have to start dealing drugs or stealing cars to finance my Sushi Den habit. But believe me, I'm coming back soon. Better set your car alarm.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
"I'm not drinking any f***ing Merlot!!"
Wanted to quickly mention 2 bottles we enjoyed this weekend. The first was a bottle of Crios Torrontes, from Argentina, again recommended by our friends from Little Raven Vineyards. I'd never had Torrontes before - apparently it is a grape grown only or mainly in Argentina. It had a nice bouquet, mostly floral and fruity, went down smoothly and syrupy. I liked it, but it did have a bit of an aftertaste that reminded me of fingernail polish remover, so I didn't like it as much as I thought I would. But I wasn't as turned off as I thought I'd be either, I suppose given the other qualities of the wine. It peaked my interest enough that I would try it again. Mr. M really loved it, though, singing its praises quite highly. I preferred the Hop Kiln from last week.
The other bottle was a 2002 Chateau Ste. Michelle Reserve Merlot. We laugh every time we drink Merlot (though it is one of Mr. M's favorites) because of the line from the movie "Sideways", when Miles emphatically and poetically discusses his personal feelings for that particular grape. (If you haven't seen it, it's worth seeing.) Anyway, as Mr. M and I are taking a trip to Seattle this weekend and will be visiting the Chateau Ste. Michelle winery, I thought a little preview would be an excellent idea. I almost never buy reserve wines, so it was a pleasant celebration as well. It was good - I really enjoyed the ripe cherry, cassis, pepper, and a hint of earth. "Very niiice"...as Borat would say.
The other bottle was a 2002 Chateau Ste. Michelle Reserve Merlot. We laugh every time we drink Merlot (though it is one of Mr. M's favorites) because of the line from the movie "Sideways", when Miles emphatically and poetically discusses his personal feelings for that particular grape. (If you haven't seen it, it's worth seeing.) Anyway, as Mr. M and I are taking a trip to Seattle this weekend and will be visiting the Chateau Ste. Michelle winery, I thought a little preview would be an excellent idea. I almost never buy reserve wines, so it was a pleasant celebration as well. It was good - I really enjoyed the ripe cherry, cassis, pepper, and a hint of earth. "Very niiice"...as Borat would say.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Opa!!
On a whim, Mr. M and I hit Pete's Central One (at Alameda and Pearl, across from Thai Basil) on Saturday night. It had been a rainy, cold, dreary day in Denver, and after looking at our collection of 543 pictures from our 3 week Greek vacation almost 2 years ago, we were inspired to go looking for some good tzatziki and trying to relive those island-hopping days...
We arrived around 7:00, taking one of the last tables in the small restaurant dining room. Not a lot of atmosphere going on here, but we soon came to feel at home when the restaurant's owner?manager? came around to our table and began to chat us up. We had ordered a 3-dip sampler, and he wanted to know if we knew what we were eating. He explained the ingredients of each dip and then continued to work the room. When our main dishes came awhile later (a vegetarian combo of tyropita, spanakopita, and dolmades for me and the lamb chops for Mr. M), he returned to our table with 2 shot glasses and a bottle of ouzo.
Ouzo, to those unfamiliar, is ubiquitous in Greece. The summer we were in Greece, everywhere we went people were sitting around nursing tiny (or not-so-tiny) glasses filled with what I thought at first was water. Soon, however, I noticed the rather festive mood of those partaking in this seemingly innocuous beverage, as well as the strong smell of licorice permeating the air. While there are very few things that I dislike as far as food or flavors go, a strong licorice flavor is not the most appealing taste or smell to me. I really enjoy the light anise flavor of fennel, but ouzo is a whole different ballgame.
The owner?manager? poured us each 2 full shots of 80-proof licorice and bid us drink up. Having avoided this drink the entire time we were in Greece only to have been confronted with it in my own hometown, I decided it was meant to be. What the hell, yasas. I held my breath and swallowed, and as the liquid licorice fire burned its way down to my stomach, I felt a sudden urge to shout "Opa!" and reenact the traditional Greek dancing we'd seen and done 2 years before. (I never really got the hang of it - maybe because even Ring-Around-the-Rosy with drunk grown-ups can be difficult.) Lucky for Mr. M, I suppressed the urge. Unlucky for me, that licorice flavor that I dislike stayed with me for quite awhile. Bleeechh...
I couldn't wait to go home to watch ouzo star in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" again - a movie we own because of both 1) the immigrant experience in America that I so identify with (see my previous post on "The Namesake"), and 2) it vaguely reminds us of our trip to Greece. We finished our dinner, refusing the offer of another shot of ouzo, and returned home basking in pleasant memories. For what is better therapy for a dreary day than thoughts of sailing the beautiful blue Aegean on a 50-foot sailboat, exploring little islands by scooter, finding gorgeous deserted beaches, and snacking on mezes in oceanfront tavernas with the absolute love of my life?
We arrived around 7:00, taking one of the last tables in the small restaurant dining room. Not a lot of atmosphere going on here, but we soon came to feel at home when the restaurant's owner?manager? came around to our table and began to chat us up. We had ordered a 3-dip sampler, and he wanted to know if we knew what we were eating. He explained the ingredients of each dip and then continued to work the room. When our main dishes came awhile later (a vegetarian combo of tyropita, spanakopita, and dolmades for me and the lamb chops for Mr. M), he returned to our table with 2 shot glasses and a bottle of ouzo.
Ouzo, to those unfamiliar, is ubiquitous in Greece. The summer we were in Greece, everywhere we went people were sitting around nursing tiny (or not-so-tiny) glasses filled with what I thought at first was water. Soon, however, I noticed the rather festive mood of those partaking in this seemingly innocuous beverage, as well as the strong smell of licorice permeating the air. While there are very few things that I dislike as far as food or flavors go, a strong licorice flavor is not the most appealing taste or smell to me. I really enjoy the light anise flavor of fennel, but ouzo is a whole different ballgame.
The owner?manager? poured us each 2 full shots of 80-proof licorice and bid us drink up. Having avoided this drink the entire time we were in Greece only to have been confronted with it in my own hometown, I decided it was meant to be. What the hell, yasas. I held my breath and swallowed, and as the liquid licorice fire burned its way down to my stomach, I felt a sudden urge to shout "Opa!" and reenact the traditional Greek dancing we'd seen and done 2 years before. (I never really got the hang of it - maybe because even Ring-Around-the-Rosy with drunk grown-ups can be difficult.) Lucky for Mr. M, I suppressed the urge. Unlucky for me, that licorice flavor that I dislike stayed with me for quite awhile. Bleeechh...
I couldn't wait to go home to watch ouzo star in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" again - a movie we own because of both 1) the immigrant experience in America that I so identify with (see my previous post on "The Namesake"), and 2) it vaguely reminds us of our trip to Greece. We finished our dinner, refusing the offer of another shot of ouzo, and returned home basking in pleasant memories. For what is better therapy for a dreary day than thoughts of sailing the beautiful blue Aegean on a 50-foot sailboat, exploring little islands by scooter, finding gorgeous deserted beaches, and snacking on mezes in oceanfront tavernas with the absolute love of my life?
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Birthday dinner
Yesterday was my birthday, so to celebrate, Mr. M and I went to see a movie (of my request) showing at the Esquire called "The Namesake". Of course, like many women in this country, I had fallen in love with the book and was interested to see how the movie version would turn out. I was so pleasantly surprised - Mira Nair did a fabulous job translating this story to film. (Most of the time, IMO, books are 10 times better than the movies made from them.) This story rings true and hits close to home for me in so many ways, and it provided interesting fodder for discussion over a long birthday dinner.
We had reservations at Luca D'Italia. We were about half an hour early and decided to sit at the bar for a drink, but the hostess soon informed us that there was a table available already. We were seated promptly and ordered a bottle of Barbera from the Piedmont region, which was decanted at the table by the sommelier. It was smooth, medium-bodied, and smelled of dark cherry, cassis, earth, and pepper. We sipped slowly, having already decided to partake of the tasty-sounding 5 course tasting menu. We had the tasting menu the last time I'd been to Luca with my family, which (I'm sad to say) was probably 2 years ago. One of the staff actually came by the table and asked why we'd been gone so long, and I had no good excuse, because that meal had been impeccable in every way.
Soon, an amuse bouche arrived - a cremini mushroom bruschetta drizzled in a creamy gorgonzola sauce. Yum. Another 3-part amuse came soon after, tiny bites of seafood salad, chicken liver pate, and something else I can't quite remember. We had course after course of wonderful food - crispy hot ricotta fritters, seared diver scallops and lobster, crab agnolotti, foie gras and quail. By the time the last course arrived, I felt like a stuffed ricotta fritter, but I soldiered on bravely. It's good that the dessert course was a lovely light pannacotta with grapefruit and pistachio - the perfect end to our overindulgent meal.
Over our meal, we discussed the issues that the movie had raised in our minds. The journey to manhood or adulthood. Immigrant adjustment to a new culture, a new country, and the struggles, the hardships, the persecutions and prejudices they face. The Asian culture, with its strong values of family and community, and how it compares to American culture. The selflessness and sacrifice of parental love. The universal grief and anguish over the loss of a loved one, the regret in things that were left undone or unsaid. The experience of immigrant children born in the U.S. (like my own), involving an initial rejection of the parents' culture, of the things that make us different from our peers, usually occuring in adolescence. The later regret and reclamation of a culture that is ours by heritage but not completely by experience, and assimilating it with the culture of our birth country. It was a discussion that helped Mr. M and I know each other better, more deeply and intimately - something we seek fervently even after six years of marriage. I'm always amazed at how much of me I've kept to myself, and how much more about him I have to learn.
Our evening was wonderful, but again it reiterated a belief I've long had about my obsession with and passion for food. A meal can be good, but the thing that makes it truly memorable are 1) the person (or people) with whom you share your meal, and 2) the intimacy and joie de vivre that your conversation and time together brings. These things are what can make a meal truly great.
We had reservations at Luca D'Italia. We were about half an hour early and decided to sit at the bar for a drink, but the hostess soon informed us that there was a table available already. We were seated promptly and ordered a bottle of Barbera from the Piedmont region, which was decanted at the table by the sommelier. It was smooth, medium-bodied, and smelled of dark cherry, cassis, earth, and pepper. We sipped slowly, having already decided to partake of the tasty-sounding 5 course tasting menu. We had the tasting menu the last time I'd been to Luca with my family, which (I'm sad to say) was probably 2 years ago. One of the staff actually came by the table and asked why we'd been gone so long, and I had no good excuse, because that meal had been impeccable in every way.
Soon, an amuse bouche arrived - a cremini mushroom bruschetta drizzled in a creamy gorgonzola sauce. Yum. Another 3-part amuse came soon after, tiny bites of seafood salad, chicken liver pate, and something else I can't quite remember. We had course after course of wonderful food - crispy hot ricotta fritters, seared diver scallops and lobster, crab agnolotti, foie gras and quail. By the time the last course arrived, I felt like a stuffed ricotta fritter, but I soldiered on bravely. It's good that the dessert course was a lovely light pannacotta with grapefruit and pistachio - the perfect end to our overindulgent meal.
Over our meal, we discussed the issues that the movie had raised in our minds. The journey to manhood or adulthood. Immigrant adjustment to a new culture, a new country, and the struggles, the hardships, the persecutions and prejudices they face. The Asian culture, with its strong values of family and community, and how it compares to American culture. The selflessness and sacrifice of parental love. The universal grief and anguish over the loss of a loved one, the regret in things that were left undone or unsaid. The experience of immigrant children born in the U.S. (like my own), involving an initial rejection of the parents' culture, of the things that make us different from our peers, usually occuring in adolescence. The later regret and reclamation of a culture that is ours by heritage but not completely by experience, and assimilating it with the culture of our birth country. It was a discussion that helped Mr. M and I know each other better, more deeply and intimately - something we seek fervently even after six years of marriage. I'm always amazed at how much of me I've kept to myself, and how much more about him I have to learn.
Our evening was wonderful, but again it reiterated a belief I've long had about my obsession with and passion for food. A meal can be good, but the thing that makes it truly memorable are 1) the person (or people) with whom you share your meal, and 2) the intimacy and joie de vivre that your conversation and time together brings. These things are what can make a meal truly great.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Quinoa salad pics
My friend doktameri called last night, saying she was at Whole Foods buying ingredients for the Quinoa Salad I wrote about. Talking with her and writing about it yesterday made me hungry for it, so I came home and cooked up the last of the quinoa I have. This is really just a bare-bones kind of recipe that you can modify at will, according to your taste and what's in the fridge. Any couscous or orzo salad recipes are easy to make with quinoa instead, for a whole-grain alternative. I didn't have any cilantro, so I substituted some flat-leaf parsley. I also added some halved grape tomatoes and a few chopped green olives. I might even sprinkle in some feta. Yum! Mr. M is already dipping into the bowl every time he walks by, even though it's not really lunchtime yet.
Here are my pics of the salad and the tahini dressing. Though you may be trying to cut calories, this dressing really makes the salad, so the tahini is worth it. It's usually in the store next to the peanut butter (tahini really is sesame seed paste - it's also a main ingredient in hummus).
Here are my pics of the salad and the tahini dressing. Though you may be trying to cut calories, this dressing really makes the salad, so the tahini is worth it. It's usually in the store next to the peanut butter (tahini really is sesame seed paste - it's also a main ingredient in hummus).
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
A Name for My Love
Though I received only 2 on-line responses to my posted poll on March 4th, others have responded to me verbally. Still, none of the proposed suggestions (including Thadeus, Sir Will - short for William Wallace, Hamisch, and hungryboy) quite hit the spot. So, for now, my husband, my lover, my best friend, and my frequent and happy dining-companion will be referred to as Mr. M, until such time when a better and mutually agreed-upon solution can be found.
Keen-wah!
My girlfriends and I always seem to need a pick-me-up on Mondays. Something about the weekend being over and having a whole other work week ahead causes a bit of the blues. A few of us met at Limon (on 17th and Franklin) - a relatively new Peruvian restaurant - for some happy hour drinks and dinner. We started out with some of their signature cocktails - yummy refreshing pineapple mojitos, a sweet Granada de Amor (citrus vodka, pomegranate and lime juice) - while we munched on some tasty ceviche and yucca chips. Eventually we ordered wine and dinner. I've been to Limon twice before, once ordering the very tasty Arroz con Pato, and the other time the Quinotto. Today I was definitely craving the Quinotto again.
Quinoa (pronounced "keen-wah") is a high protein whole grain that became popularized and fashionable in this recent health-conscious age. I myself had not really taken note of it until I had this dish a few months ago. Quinoa is a bit like a nutty, chewy couscous, that on closer examination, looks like tiny little rolled condoms (someone else's observation, but I have to agree). Appetizing, huh? After I had this dish for the first time, I bought some from the bulk bins at Whole Foods and made the Lemon-Scented Quinoa Salad that I read about on another food blog, which was delicious! I was hooked. It's so good for you, and it tastes incredible!
The Quinotto at Limon is a risotto of sorts, made with quinoa of course, with spinach, mushrooms, and artichoke hearts added, and flavored with a spicy, smoky tomato puree and some thin slices of sharp manchego that totally makes the dish. I'm not sure what all they add to this (probably a bit of cream, butter?), but it still feels really healthy to eat it - all those vegetables and that famous high-protein whole grain! I LOVE this dish.
Though the dining room at Limon is tiny, I hear plans are in the works for an expansion into the space next door. Even on a Monday (see my other posts), all the tables in this (albeit tiny) dining room were taken. I'm happy about that, as Denver is lucky to have such a good restaurant occupying this unique niche of ethnic cuisine.
Quinoa (pronounced "keen-wah") is a high protein whole grain that became popularized and fashionable in this recent health-conscious age. I myself had not really taken note of it until I had this dish a few months ago. Quinoa is a bit like a nutty, chewy couscous, that on closer examination, looks like tiny little rolled condoms (someone else's observation, but I have to agree). Appetizing, huh? After I had this dish for the first time, I bought some from the bulk bins at Whole Foods and made the Lemon-Scented Quinoa Salad that I read about on another food blog, which was delicious! I was hooked. It's so good for you, and it tastes incredible!
The Quinotto at Limon is a risotto of sorts, made with quinoa of course, with spinach, mushrooms, and artichoke hearts added, and flavored with a spicy, smoky tomato puree and some thin slices of sharp manchego that totally makes the dish. I'm not sure what all they add to this (probably a bit of cream, butter?), but it still feels really healthy to eat it - all those vegetables and that famous high-protein whole grain! I LOVE this dish.
Though the dining room at Limon is tiny, I hear plans are in the works for an expansion into the space next door. Even on a Monday (see my other posts), all the tables in this (albeit tiny) dining room were taken. I'm happy about that, as Denver is lucky to have such a good restaurant occupying this unique niche of ethnic cuisine.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
A Weekend Tradition
My husband M. and I have lived in Denver for about 5 years, and over the past couple years, we established a relatively new tradition. Almost every weekend in the warmer months finds us brunching at Bistro Vendome. We found this little patio several years ago, and there is nothing like eating at this tucked-away corner of Larimer Square. In the summer months, brightly colored flowers cascade from hanging baskets, and the atmosphere is relaxed and lazy. We love starting out our days here with a pot of their fabulous french press coffees, or, if we're in a more celebratory mood, a Royale of one flavor or another. We sit on the patio and relax into the weekend mood, the stresses of the week before gently drowning out as we sip away. The basket of croissants with rose jam is difficult to pass up. Sometimes we dine on their crepes du jour. M loves the onion soup and the steak tartare (aren't you impressed that he would eat that at all??!!!? I am so proud...)
Some days we are recovering from a large meal the night before, and all we order are croissants and coffee. Some days, like this morning, EVERYTHING looks good, and we ravenously partake in course after course. We met my friend Doktameri and her husband K. for brunch, and since we don't get to see K. very often, we were celebrating. Brunch began with a round of royales. We then nibbled on croissants and a baguette with butter while we considered the menu. The crepes didn't sound so good today, but our server clued us into the freshness of the mussels, so that was definitely on the list. M. didn't want to pass up the tartare, and Doktameri sang the praises of the crab benedict. So what did we do? Of course, like any respectable gluttons, we ordered it all.
By the time we had finished a bowl of plump, juicy mussels, soaking up the broth with the bread, AND the lovely steak tartare, AND a pot of coffee, I was already filled to bursting. When the entrees came out, they looked lovely, but I could barely bring myself to take a bite. Once I did, however, somehow the fork kept moving to my mouth until all that were left were some of the fantastic frites.
When we waddled out of there, 10 pounds heavier, M. and I came home and took 3 steps over to our living room couch and passed out for two and a half hours. I feel like I will never need food again. But I'm sure next weekend will find us at Vendome again, welcoming and toasting the weekend with a Kir Royale.
Some days we are recovering from a large meal the night before, and all we order are croissants and coffee. Some days, like this morning, EVERYTHING looks good, and we ravenously partake in course after course. We met my friend Doktameri and her husband K. for brunch, and since we don't get to see K. very often, we were celebrating. Brunch began with a round of royales. We then nibbled on croissants and a baguette with butter while we considered the menu. The crepes didn't sound so good today, but our server clued us into the freshness of the mussels, so that was definitely on the list. M. didn't want to pass up the tartare, and Doktameri sang the praises of the crab benedict. So what did we do? Of course, like any respectable gluttons, we ordered it all.
By the time we had finished a bowl of plump, juicy mussels, soaking up the broth with the bread, AND the lovely steak tartare, AND a pot of coffee, I was already filled to bursting. When the entrees came out, they looked lovely, but I could barely bring myself to take a bite. Once I did, however, somehow the fork kept moving to my mouth until all that were left were some of the fantastic frites.
When we waddled out of there, 10 pounds heavier, M. and I came home and took 3 steps over to our living room couch and passed out for two and a half hours. I feel like I will never need food again. But I'm sure next weekend will find us at Vendome again, welcoming and toasting the weekend with a Kir Royale.
Wine for a Summer? Day
We went to Little Raven Vineyards again yesterday for the Saturday wine tasting. People were out en masse celebrating St. Patty's Day in full force all over downtown, yet this tiny wine store was having a quiet day. Everyone's drinking beer, the owner mourned. So when we walked in, he was more than happy to talk to us about the wine we were tasting, about the International Wine Guild classes that M. and I are thinking of taking, and recommending a wine for us to take home and drink on our back patio on this warm night.
We tasted two white wines - both made of Verdejo grapes, one aged in stainless steel, the other aged in American oak. Same grapes, but such a different wine! It reminded me of those cheeses that F. brought us. Amazing.
For our evening, the owner recommended the Hop Kiln "Thousand Flowers" 2005. It's a California white made of Viognier (one of my faves...) and Chardonnay. When the owner described the wine to us, it was easier to take it home and taste what he meant. Though I don't know if I'll ever be able to develop a more educated wine palate, I'm taking some baby steps.
We sat outside sipping the wine, talking about life. M. and I usually prefer red wines, but the owner was true to his word - this is a white wine for red wine drinkers. Lots of floral and fruit, thicker mouthfeel, acid on the back end. We'll definitely be buying more of that for later.
We tasted two white wines - both made of Verdejo grapes, one aged in stainless steel, the other aged in American oak. Same grapes, but such a different wine! It reminded me of those cheeses that F. brought us. Amazing.
For our evening, the owner recommended the Hop Kiln "Thousand Flowers" 2005. It's a California white made of Viognier (one of my faves...) and Chardonnay. When the owner described the wine to us, it was easier to take it home and taste what he meant. Though I don't know if I'll ever be able to develop a more educated wine palate, I'm taking some baby steps.
We sat outside sipping the wine, talking about life. M. and I usually prefer red wines, but the owner was true to his word - this is a white wine for red wine drinkers. Lots of floral and fruit, thicker mouthfeel, acid on the back end. We'll definitely be buying more of that for later.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Welcoming the Warmer Weather
As Denver has for months been gripped in the worst winter that most of us can remember, the past couple weeks of warmth have been a shot in the arm. I feel like I've been given an intravenous maximum dose of Prozac. Funny what a little sun time will do for your mood and your outlook on life.
Wednesday night, our weekly gathering of friends, was the first cookout of the season. We dusted off our patio chairs, put up the umbrella, and fired up the grill for some hamburgers. What a great feeling.
Friday, we had friends in from out of town. For lunch, we dined at Milagro Taco Bar on the sunny patio, enjoying Arnold Palmers and the lunch special - shredded chicken tostadas with their out-of-this-world mole sauce. Then for dinner, we fired up the grill again, cooking steaks in the warm night air while I roasted asparagus and assembled a summery salad for our dinner.
There's nothing like living in Denver in the summer. Everyone always comes to Colorado dreaming of the skiing and winter sports, but IMO it's the summers that really keep me addicted to this place. As we enjoy this unseasonable early spring, I am dreaming, no, salivating, over the sun-ripened tomatoes and fresh basil that we grow in our garden every year. I can't wait for the farmers markets to start again, to taste my first really ripe juicy peach from the Western slopes. Fresh, pale yellow corn with just a bit of butter and salt. Tender stalks of asparagus, fresh zucchini, sugary melons, crisp cucumbers. I love summer eats.
My brain tells me that winter can't be over yet, that we'll still have another cold spell here before summer really starts. But my heart keeps hoping...
Wednesday night, our weekly gathering of friends, was the first cookout of the season. We dusted off our patio chairs, put up the umbrella, and fired up the grill for some hamburgers. What a great feeling.
Friday, we had friends in from out of town. For lunch, we dined at Milagro Taco Bar on the sunny patio, enjoying Arnold Palmers and the lunch special - shredded chicken tostadas with their out-of-this-world mole sauce. Then for dinner, we fired up the grill again, cooking steaks in the warm night air while I roasted asparagus and assembled a summery salad for our dinner.
There's nothing like living in Denver in the summer. Everyone always comes to Colorado dreaming of the skiing and winter sports, but IMO it's the summers that really keep me addicted to this place. As we enjoy this unseasonable early spring, I am dreaming, no, salivating, over the sun-ripened tomatoes and fresh basil that we grow in our garden every year. I can't wait for the farmers markets to start again, to taste my first really ripe juicy peach from the Western slopes. Fresh, pale yellow corn with just a bit of butter and salt. Tender stalks of asparagus, fresh zucchini, sugary melons, crisp cucumbers. I love summer eats.
My brain tells me that winter can't be over yet, that we'll still have another cold spell here before summer really starts. But my heart keeps hoping...
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Mexican grub with an Italian flair
Sorry for the recent hiatus. In an attempt to recover physically, emotionally, and financially from restaurant week, we haven't had any super interesting meals lately, except the feast of proscuitto San Daniele, fresh mozzarella/tomato/pesto salad, Humboldt Fog (one of my favorite cheeses), Spanish manchego, dark Valrhona chocolate, seedless red grapes, and a beautiful New Zealand Pinot Noir (that we picked up at Little Raven Vineyards - a cute boutique wine shop across from Zengo) that we enjoyed while watching movies Saturday night. As far as restaurants go, in the past week: we had a passable meal at Proto's for a weekend lunch on our way to a bit of wine tasting at Little Raven Vineyards, a suprisingly (I don't usually expect much from chains) good meal (the Milan pizza) during a meeting with friends at California Pizza Kitchen in Cherry Creek mall, some consistently wonderful tacos at Mezcal, a good meal (with good chips and wonderfully spicy salsa) at Ajuaa, and a great meal last night with our friend F.
F. is a student at DU who came here from Asiago, Italy to take a few classes. His first trip overseas landed him in Denver on Jan 1st this year. He was understandably nervous about being in a new place, taking classes in English, and wondering if he would find enough girls to kiss. My husband (who still remains nameless on this blog...) picked him up at the airport, and he stayed with us that first night. As a gift for us, he brought 2 extrememly wonderful cheeses from his hometown. His family buys big wheels of cheese every year that they age in a special room in their house. One of the cheeses he brought with him was aged 9 months, the other 18 months. It was fascinating to taste the same cheese made so different by the simple process of aging. I preferred the younger cheese - it was a bit softer but still very flavorful. The older one reminded me more of the typical Parmesan - sharp, harder, drier, and more flavor-packed. Of course, when he presented us with the gift of Asiago cheese, he was my friend instantly and for life.
Over the past couple months, we've seen F. periodically, either for snowboarding lessons (he did a blue run on his first day snowboarding ever!), trips to Sam's Club, or for his newly discovered pleasure - Mexican food. F. has visited Mezcal and Bluebonnet, among others, but last night we took him to Little Anita's. I've always loved this little hole-in-the-wall in a strip mall on South Colorado. The food is good, fast, and inexpensive. You also get a sopapilla with every entree, and squeeze-bottles of honey on every table here give it it's requisite adornment. I had the blue corn enchiladas, my husband the shredded meat enchiladas, and for F. we ordered the big combination plate. F. has an enormous appetite, and as usual, after finishing his own huge plate, proceeded to finish all of my leftovers as well. He LOVES Mexican food.
Sadly, F. is leaving Denver this week. We said our goodbyes, with promises to keep in touch. Who knows, maybe next year Mr. & Mrs. hungrygirl will plan a trip to Asiago to visit our friend F. (and to get some more of that wonderful cheese!). Do you think I can get a burrito through customs for him?
F. is a student at DU who came here from Asiago, Italy to take a few classes. His first trip overseas landed him in Denver on Jan 1st this year. He was understandably nervous about being in a new place, taking classes in English, and wondering if he would find enough girls to kiss. My husband (who still remains nameless on this blog...) picked him up at the airport, and he stayed with us that first night. As a gift for us, he brought 2 extrememly wonderful cheeses from his hometown. His family buys big wheels of cheese every year that they age in a special room in their house. One of the cheeses he brought with him was aged 9 months, the other 18 months. It was fascinating to taste the same cheese made so different by the simple process of aging. I preferred the younger cheese - it was a bit softer but still very flavorful. The older one reminded me more of the typical Parmesan - sharp, harder, drier, and more flavor-packed. Of course, when he presented us with the gift of Asiago cheese, he was my friend instantly and for life.
Over the past couple months, we've seen F. periodically, either for snowboarding lessons (he did a blue run on his first day snowboarding ever!), trips to Sam's Club, or for his newly discovered pleasure - Mexican food. F. has visited Mezcal and Bluebonnet, among others, but last night we took him to Little Anita's. I've always loved this little hole-in-the-wall in a strip mall on South Colorado. The food is good, fast, and inexpensive. You also get a sopapilla with every entree, and squeeze-bottles of honey on every table here give it it's requisite adornment. I had the blue corn enchiladas, my husband the shredded meat enchiladas, and for F. we ordered the big combination plate. F. has an enormous appetite, and as usual, after finishing his own huge plate, proceeded to finish all of my leftovers as well. He LOVES Mexican food.
Sadly, F. is leaving Denver this week. We said our goodbyes, with promises to keep in touch. Who knows, maybe next year Mr. & Mrs. hungrygirl will plan a trip to Asiago to visit our friend F. (and to get some more of that wonderful cheese!). Do you think I can get a burrito through customs for him?
Thursday, March 8, 2007
Hearty pasta for twelve
Wednesday nights are typically a gathering of people in our home, and it is always a challenge to find easy recipes to feed a crowd. While we all take turns with various parts of the meal, last night it fell to me to prepare the main dish. Inspired by one of the latest recipes on the food blog Simply Recipes, I prepared a variation of the Fettucine with Creamy Italian Sausage and Tomatoes. I followed the recipe roughly, doubling it, of course, for the crowd. I made some minor adjustments to the recipe, adding onions instead of shallots, and also sprinkling in a bit of crushed red pepper and cayenne as well as some dried oregano. I love sauces with a bit of heat to them, so it was a worthy addition, IMO. The crowd seemed to enjoy it, and my husband ate the leftovers the next morning for breakfast. Though it wasn't the healthiest meal I've eaten this week, it was one of the most satisfying.
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
A sucker for chili chocolate
I met with a few women last night for a monthly happy hour we've been having. After previous visits to the Village Cork, the Ninth Door, and Lola, we decided last night's venue would be Cafe Star. No stranger to the spotlight lately, this restaurant and its acclaimed chef have won several honors and accolades from the Denver dining community. I love the colorful glass panels that divide the bar from the main dining area - the room feels festive yet laid-back. I had been here a couple of times before, and I am totally hooked on one of their desserts. So even though we were coming for happy hour, I warned my girlfriends that I would NOT be leaving without dessert, and I would NOT, under any circumstance, be SHARING my dessert, as we females tend to do...
Happy hour specials were good - $4 mojitos, wells, wine. We started with a good minty mojito, just to get in the celebratory mood (for what's not to celebrate about happy hour on Monday?), then moved on to drinking red wine - a tempranillo that was good for sipping while we noshed on the food specials. For $5 apiece, we got a three cheese pizza, a baked goat cheese spread, shrimp baked in olive oil, and an escargot/mushroom dish. I thought all the food was good except the escargot, which tasted a bit like dirt, without enough sauce to cover it up. The shrimp were definitely my favorite, though the goat cheese was pretty good also. The food and wine were excellent lubricants to our conversation, which centered around marriage, food, sex, and travel, for what else would 4 working married women with no kids talk about?
Of course, several hours later when the food and wine were gone, we ordered dessert. My very favorite thing - the chili chocolate pot du creme - is a standing dessert item on the menu. I first learned to love the chili and chocolate combination when I was in Australia a few years ago. My sister was studying abroad there for a semester (though "studying" would definitely be an overstatement), and she introduced me to a lovely chocolate shop where I proceeded to eat them out of their entire stock of chili chocolates. I am AD-DIC-TED (sorry, doktameri!) to the combination of rich, dark, creamy chocolate with a spicy kick to it at the end. Can't get enough.
In a strange deja vu that hearkened back to Monday of last week, Cafe Star was also quite sparsely patronized even by the time we left around 8:30. I know Mondays are typically very slow for restaurants, and maybe they enjoy the break, but I hate to see such great places so UNcrowded, no matter what night of the week it may be. So if you're looking to add a little spice to your life, go eat at (or at least have dessert at) Cafe Star.
Happy hour specials were good - $4 mojitos, wells, wine. We started with a good minty mojito, just to get in the celebratory mood (for what's not to celebrate about happy hour on Monday?), then moved on to drinking red wine - a tempranillo that was good for sipping while we noshed on the food specials. For $5 apiece, we got a three cheese pizza, a baked goat cheese spread, shrimp baked in olive oil, and an escargot/mushroom dish. I thought all the food was good except the escargot, which tasted a bit like dirt, without enough sauce to cover it up. The shrimp were definitely my favorite, though the goat cheese was pretty good also. The food and wine were excellent lubricants to our conversation, which centered around marriage, food, sex, and travel, for what else would 4 working married women with no kids talk about?
Of course, several hours later when the food and wine were gone, we ordered dessert. My very favorite thing - the chili chocolate pot du creme - is a standing dessert item on the menu. I first learned to love the chili and chocolate combination when I was in Australia a few years ago. My sister was studying abroad there for a semester (though "studying" would definitely be an overstatement), and she introduced me to a lovely chocolate shop where I proceeded to eat them out of their entire stock of chili chocolates. I am AD-DIC-TED (sorry, doktameri!) to the combination of rich, dark, creamy chocolate with a spicy kick to it at the end. Can't get enough.
In a strange deja vu that hearkened back to Monday of last week, Cafe Star was also quite sparsely patronized even by the time we left around 8:30. I know Mondays are typically very slow for restaurants, and maybe they enjoy the break, but I hate to see such great places so UNcrowded, no matter what night of the week it may be. So if you're looking to add a little spice to your life, go eat at (or at least have dessert at) Cafe Star.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
A Poll
My husband, after reading my blog, has decided that the term "hubby" is (inexplicably) distasteful to him. When I asked what he'd rather be called, he replied, "Julian". Now, my husband's name is NOT, nor in any way resembles, the name "Julian". When I think of "Julian", I think of an aged, slightly overweight barrister with spectacles (no offense to anyone named Julian out there). So I told him "Julian" was not quite to my liking.
So, now the question is, what shall I call my husband on this blog? Any comments or responses are welcome.
So, now the question is, what shall I call my husband on this blog? Any comments or responses are welcome.
The Oven
I'm not usually on the west side of town, but when I found myself near Belmar on Saturday, a friend and I popped into the The Oven for a quick lunch. It was a great day - sunny, relatively warm (at least compared to the rest of the winter), and it was nice to be outside. The Oven has a bar area and a bunch of long communal tables. We ordered the tomato-mozz salad, which was very nice, and the pizza special - fresh tomatoes, mozz, pepperoni, and fresh rosemary (the larger size). The crust was thin, crispy, and perfecct. The rosemary was incredibly fragrant and paired so well with the pepperoni - a combination that I never would have imagined would be so good! It was a perfect amount of food for two, and when we polished it off and were walking back to our cars in the warm sunshine, I realized I wouldn't mind coming out to the west side more often.
Saturday, March 3, 2007
A place that never disappoints
To cap off Restaurant Week, my husband and I celebrated the final evening at Rioja. We've been to Rioja quite a few times since it opened, and I have to say that I've never had a bad meal there. Though at times it can be hard to get a reservation, and it's not the most inexpensive of dining options, it's consistency IMO is top notch. The service is always excellent, and the food is wonderful.
Rioja was offering its full menu for restaurant week, with 6 or 7 choices of appetizer and entree for the standard price, but all the others offered also for a few dollars extra. We had the baked mozzarella/proscuitto appetizer and the tuna, both of which were good, though I preferred the tuna, which was 4 or 5 dollars extra. (My husband, surprisingly, was the one ordering the tuna - I think I truly have been successful in converting him to the joys and pleasures of raw fish!) For the entree, he ordered the scallops (one of his favorite foods), while I enjoyed the baked pasta.
When we asked the waiter to recommend a nice Spanish white wine for us, he did not immediately point us to the most expensive wine on the list. Instead, he recommended that we try the Naia, which actually was one of the least expensive. It's 100% Verdejo, and we enjoyed it immensely. And I always respect the servers that don't necessarily try to upsell you on everything.
After all that (and the wonderful variety of breads they offer), we barely had room for dessert. We split the hazelnut tortamisu, which I liked very much. But I think Restaurant Week has taken its toll, and I am feeling bloated and rotund... The next few days will be recovery and detox.
Rioja was offering its full menu for restaurant week, with 6 or 7 choices of appetizer and entree for the standard price, but all the others offered also for a few dollars extra. We had the baked mozzarella/proscuitto appetizer and the tuna, both of which were good, though I preferred the tuna, which was 4 or 5 dollars extra. (My husband, surprisingly, was the one ordering the tuna - I think I truly have been successful in converting him to the joys and pleasures of raw fish!) For the entree, he ordered the scallops (one of his favorite foods), while I enjoyed the baked pasta.
When we asked the waiter to recommend a nice Spanish white wine for us, he did not immediately point us to the most expensive wine on the list. Instead, he recommended that we try the Naia, which actually was one of the least expensive. It's 100% Verdejo, and we enjoyed it immensely. And I always respect the servers that don't necessarily try to upsell you on everything.
After all that (and the wonderful variety of breads they offer), we barely had room for dessert. We split the hazelnut tortamisu, which I liked very much. But I think Restaurant Week has taken its toll, and I am feeling bloated and rotund... The next few days will be recovery and detox.
Friday, March 2, 2007
Lovin' the new Lola
As Restaurant Week continues, we spent last night at Lola. As embarassing as it is to admit, I had not been to Lola since they changed locales from their previous digs on South Pearl to much fancier ones in Highlands, just over the pedestrian bridge. The new spot is much larger, and it includes a basement bar area (called "Belola" - I just love that! I'm corny, I know...) in addition to the main floor dining area and long bar. The restaurant was pretty full when we arrived, and our table was not quite ready, so we descended into Belola and ordered a few coin style margs. Before our drinks were delivered, we were informed that our table was now ready. We sat near the open kitchen area, and though the place was energetic and lively, I could still hear my friend and my husband for conversation.
The Restaurant Week Menu did not give any choices, so ordering was pretty easy. I did have a glass of the featured Beringer Pinot Noir, but others at the table had a few mojitos, which were quite good. Because of my husband's passionate love for guacamole, we had to start with some, which is made tableside to your specifications. It was perfect, with bits of chunky avocado still in it (not mashed to the consistency of baby food, which I hate!). The ahi crudo appetizer was very good, as was the salad - a ceasar salad of sorts served with a single (but perfect) fried oyster. By the time the main course came, I was getting pretty full, but both the meat and the escolar were perfectly done, with amazing flavors. We had to pass on dessert.
I was impressed with the service also. At one point in the dinner, for unclear reasons (I promise I had only had ONE margarita!), I carelessly flicked my wine glass over, drowning our table and dripping pinot all over the feet of my dining companions. Our server responded promptly, helping us clean up the mess, but then rather than cutting me off (as maybe would have been the logical thing), presented me with another almost full glass of wine! Points for him, and for Lola, for handling a busy crowd without letting the service slip.
The Restaurant Week Menu did not give any choices, so ordering was pretty easy. I did have a glass of the featured Beringer Pinot Noir, but others at the table had a few mojitos, which were quite good. Because of my husband's passionate love for guacamole, we had to start with some, which is made tableside to your specifications. It was perfect, with bits of chunky avocado still in it (not mashed to the consistency of baby food, which I hate!). The ahi crudo appetizer was very good, as was the salad - a ceasar salad of sorts served with a single (but perfect) fried oyster. By the time the main course came, I was getting pretty full, but both the meat and the escolar were perfectly done, with amazing flavors. We had to pass on dessert.
I was impressed with the service also. At one point in the dinner, for unclear reasons (I promise I had only had ONE margarita!), I carelessly flicked my wine glass over, drowning our table and dripping pinot all over the feet of my dining companions. Our server responded promptly, helping us clean up the mess, but then rather than cutting me off (as maybe would have been the logical thing), presented me with another almost full glass of wine! Points for him, and for Lola, for handling a busy crowd without letting the service slip.
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