Feeling a Little Chile at Lunchtime

There are plenty of things that I should be doing today-I have a critical thinking paper due Monday, the laundry pile is a little high, and I should devote a little time to some work for my internship.  But, it's 80 degrees and sunny, and I feel something in the air.  All outdoor patios in the area are full, and people seem to have started the weekend early.  Not many lunch options at the crib, and I'm a little tired of turkey sandwiches, anyway (not that turkey sandwiches are the only thing that I've eaten this week).  So, when I spotted the Steuben's Truck between 17th and 18th on Sherman, I knew that I'd need to make a stop.  I drove around the corner and parked in front of Wells Fargo Bank, intending on getting $20 out to get lunch and put some gas in the car, but the lure of the food truck made me forget to go to the ATM.  My mind simply put blinders on and guided me to the small crowd of people gathered around the blue truck.

 No, seriously.  I had no idea the food truck would be here, at this particular time and location....

Food trucks are still a new thing to me-they were a total rarity in NC.  I've noticed that they seem to be growing in popularity across the nation, and they've definitely developed a following in Denver.  The Steuben's truck travels far and wide, in fact they just traveled the country a few months ago. They're a venture by Steuben's Restaurant in the Uptown neighborhood, which is a must-visit in Denver, as anyone that has visited me so far can attest. Luckily the neighborhood is close enough to my pad that you could literally roll me home. But I'll give you the restaurant rundown on another post.  Soon, I promise.  Back to the food trucks, social media has turned their existence into a celebrity-spotting, of sorts, around town (Hey, did you hear where so-and-so is today?)-everyone updates their location via FB or Twitter.   Okay- So now's the time where I come clean and tell you that I didn't just happen to stumble on "Pearl"-as she's known.  I knew damn well where she'd be.....  So I walked up and checked out the menu.

                     Nothing to see here....just move along.....


I thought about it briefly, but after watching a few episodes of Man vs. Food last night, I couldn't get my mind off of cheeseburgers.  Granted, I seem to only write about burgers lately, but Denver is by some accounts the birthplace of the Cheeseburger itself!  Anyway, I wanted a little variation, so I went for the green chile cheeseburger.

Don't know if I can make it home without a bite.  Maybe I should flip the hazards on and run some red lights.....

Yeah, I just went for the burger.....I just didn't need any fries today.  Granted Steuben's fries are phenomenal, but just not necessary.  After all, I saw the size of sandwiches that other patrons hauled off.  So, I grabbed my burger and started to walk away, when I noticed several people munching on something odd out of a paper cone.

Hmmm.....something fried, something with powdered sugar on it....tell me more......

They offered me one and told me what they were-a treat called "Steubie Snacks".  Bits of pork shoulder deep fried and dusted with powdered sugar.  Are you kidding me?  They offered one-who am I to resist?  The chunk was decadent beyond words, sweet, salty, crispy, and addictive, I'm sure.  The food equivalent of crack cocaine.  I'll order them for unsuspecting visitors in the future, for shizzle.  In the meantime, I drove the mile back to my house, ready to munch down on the burger.

Environmental responsibility is a big thing with Steuben's and Pearl.  Pearl runs off of vegetable oil from their cooking, and solar panels help provide power to the mobile goodness machine.  Steuben's also takes great pride in sourcing ingredients from the area.  The burger was no exception.  Starting with a sweet challah bun from Udi's and a big burger patty from River Ranches Beef in Steamboat (from what I've read), the sandwich is a direct replica of the burger served at the Owl Cafe in San Antonio, NM- widely regarded as THE authority on green chile burgers.  Supposedly, the Steuben's crew headed down and researched it extensively!  In any case, the fresh patties are given a rub, then covered with melted cheese and topped by green chiles.  Mayo, lettuce, tomato, onions and pickles are then laid on top.  The result is somewhat spicy chiles held in place by the cheese just long enough for you to take a gigantic chomp out of it.  Perfectly seasoned, undeniably fresh, enjoyably sloppy, and large enough to go without sides, I think I made the right choice for lunch.  Even better, when I got home I realized I had one Odell's St. Lupulin Extra Pale Ale to go with the burger.

 Nothing wrong with a beer for lunch, right? I mean, I passed on the fries!

Hoppy, crisp, but with little aftertaste, it was a perfect match for the Southwestern twist on an American staple.  Probably a good thing I only had one in the fridge, because it went down like water, and I have stuff to do.  Seriously, I could see my self stalking food trucks, and that's not the Odell's talking.  Convenient, delicious, inexpensive, and often distinguishing themselves with signature twists on their menu, they're another reminder of how fun and exciting a meal can be.  And with that, I'd better get back to my homework.  I've got a ticket to Widespread Panic tomorrow at Red Rocks, and the Electric Forest Festival to attend next week, and lots of work to do in the meantime.  I'd better get started.  Right after this nap.....

Damn, it Feels Good to be a Gangsta...

So I was putzing around yesterday....the skies were kind of grey, and I was doing some light reading.  My friend called and suggested that we visit a Prohibition-style bar set in the middle of LoDo called Green Russell.  If you're a Denverite, you probably don't view LoDo as a place that you go out of your way to frequent, especially on weekend nights.  But I hadn't eaten much of anything, and the idea of trying out a new place for happy hour cocktails and appetizers sounded pretty reasonable, so I got directions and punched the coordinates in my iPhone and took a shower.  I also noticed that there wasn't really much information on the website, which basically just told you that the venture was part of a syndicate of restaurants around town.  I headed down to Larimer Square, which is a neat little area of historic brick buildings on the side of downtown.  Draped with strings of lights and brimming with an increasing number of al fresco dining options, it looks like an interesting place to walk through-contrasting Denver's many 80's-era skyscrapers.  So I parked and set out to find the entrance to the nouveau speakeasy.  Speakeasies, of course, became popular after the passing of the Eighteenth Amendment, which prohibited the manufacture and sale of alcohol.  Underground establishments were supplied booze by bootleggers (often with mob connections) and frequently became the "place to be" for entertainment, especially for high-class citizens including the gangsters themselves.  Today, alcohol is legal, but the Depression-era look is back in style.  These type of bars have been popping up in cities lately, with differing levels of adherence to the details of the era.  I read that this particular speakeasy had a "front" business set up to cover up the entrance to the bar.  So as I walked up to the facade, I began to wonder if how I would even make my way into place, without some awkwardness....

Am I cool enough to find the bar?  And will I know the password to get in?


I crossed the street, not really sure where to go.  But as I started to text my friend, I noticed a little sign for "Wednesday's Pie"-the supposed front for Green Russell.  Noting that this general area can be full of d-bags-especially on weekends, I wondered what to expect inside.

Well, I doubt anybody gave HIM the secret password.  So if he gets in, I'm cool.


Once you pass through "Wednesday's Pie" (which apparently is open only on Wednesdays and only serves pies), people in Great Depression-era clothing meet you in front of a door that looks like a service entry to a kitchen.  As they lead you in the bar, you can see that this is a well-executed re-creation, from the copper ceiling to the old-timey but classy bar, replete with apothecary shelf (Vanilla cardamom, random extracts, bitters).  Cool bar, cool seats, newspaper boy hats on young mostly male servers wearing ties.... Well, you get the picture.  The place was very well done, very hip and sophisticated but comfortable at the same time.

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Dear Apple, please release the iPhone 5 so that us 3GS users can stop taking crappy pictures in low lighting......

Apothecary, featuring hard to get items like eye of newt, tongue of frog, wool of bat, and tongue of dog....

We sat down around a table that faced the bar.  The bartender, in a smart vest and a throwback getup (which mildly suggested he may play stand-up bass for an Avett Brothers knock-off band in town) walked from around the bar to get our order.  I asked for suggestions that include bourbon, and he asked a lot of questions to determine what type of cocktail I was really looking for.  We settled on a simple concoction of bitters, a freshly chipped piece of block ice, and a glass of Pappy Van Winkle Family Reserve 20 Year, frequently regarded as the best bourbon whiskey in the world.  I took particular interest in the crafting of the drinks, partially because my idea of spending $15 at happy hour for dinner and drinks was going out the window with this one libation alone, and partially because if I spend $12 on a drink, there should be a damned good story to go along with it).  Our bartender, Matt, obliged with the storytelling and even raised the bar with the well-executed infusion of flaming orange zest. 

                              No, it's not a Flaming Dr. Pepper.

The drink was delicious.  I'm a weirdo about different types of ice, and the block ice interacted wonderfully with the twenty year-old bourbon.  For a spirit this good, I don't recommend adding too much of anything, so a touch of bitters and a kiss of burnt citrus zest was just subtle enough to not get in the way of the wheat-based bourbon's aged flavour.  Letting the drink roll around in my mouth, I could taste the influence of a lot of ingredients dance around.  It was definitely a treat for my taste buds.  About that time, my stomach started begging me for dinner, but I wanted to take my time with the cocktail, so the four of us at the table all ordered small plates or small snacks.  I ordered the pigs in the blanket, which consisted of a piece of tender pork belly in a puff pastry with three mustard-based dipping sauces.  I got a picture of the dish, but it was too dark and the image didn't do the "pigs" justice.  The stuffed mushrooms were filled with pork, herbs, and Gruyere cheese.  I'm not the biggest mushroom fan, but I had more than one.  Other small plate items included a decadent smoked Trout spread and baguettes, and paper-thin sliced aged ham with tiny biscuits and some type of out of this world jelly spread....

             Okay, let's say it together.  Yummmmmmm.......

The small plates were $6 to $13, I believe.  The portions are small, but the attention to detail is impressive.  The service is a little more personal than the average bar, but it can be slow sometimes when things get busy.  It bears mentioning that they have a few quirky rules, but they don't get in the way of a good time, and probably keep miscreants out:  Cell phone use is limited to only in the designated phone booth and there's no standing around (to be served a drink, you must be at the bar, or at a table or booth).  Oh, and make sure you make reservations-even for one drink.  Don't say I didn't warn you.

There's no way that most of us could afford to be a regular at this bar, and filling up your gullet at Green Russell would cost a fortune.  I personally left there lighter in the wallet and still hungry, but at least with a sophisticated little buzz.  Afterward, we left and I spent the most money I've ever spent on a Mexican entree.  Perhaps that's a blog entry for another day.  Back to the speakeasy- if you want to take a date to a hip place, impress a friend from out of town, have a drink before or after dinner, or if you're just seeking refuge from the roving gangs of toolbags in LoDo, I'd recommend checking out this interesting trip to yesteryear and relaxing for a bit!  And, if you like the way Robert Redford dresses in The Sting, or you've ever fantasized about a Mumford and Sons bandmember serving you a drink, by all means head down there as soon as possible!



*On a side note, I have nothing against the Avett Brothers or Mumford and Sons.  I'm just noting the recent resurgence of love for folky Americana.  I'd love to write about it, but I don't think I can do any better at summarizing my views about the bands than this article.  Read the whole article; it is absolutely hilarious.

O Brother, Where Art Thou?

One of the coolest things about Denver is the palpable sense of history.  Last week, we decided to capture some frontier essence and eat somewhere legendary.  I thought about it for a few minutes and realized that it was time to visit the oldest bar in the town, My Brother's Bar.  Originally established in 1873 as Highland House, MBB has been pouring drinks continuously for almost 140 years.

The real claim to fame, though, is the former clientele.  The bar was known as the local watering hole for two of most prominent figures from the Beat Generation, Neal Cassady and Jack Kerouac.  Cassady, a Denver native, was the inspiration for Kerouac's On the Road (and later, the Grateful Dead's "The Other One" and "Cassidy.") Supposedly, they lived off greasy burgers served in wax paper, and ran up tabs in the dark, unmarked bar. 

So what can you expect, these days? We drove down to the River District, an area gentrified in the last decade.  The REI flagship store is down the block, and the hip restaurants of Highland right up the hill.  My Brother's Bar, though, involves no fanfare-there's not even a sign outside to let you know what you're getting into. When you walk inside, you witness a non-pretentious remnant of yesteryear, including a menu that hasn't changed in eons.  A nostalgic, slightly musty smell adds to the ambiance, and with a beautiful old bar and employees in ties, you realize that you're not in the hip new fusion spot that popped up on the corner.  I would call it "Sophisticated simplicity."  A quaint, dimly lit beer garden begs you to sit outside, but on this chilly June evening, we elected to soak up the atmosphere and sit inside near the bar and check out the highly-regarded pub fare.

The beer list is rather short-but that's fine when you've got good ones on draught.  We ordered a pitcher of Odell's IPA and waited for the burgers to arrive.  I ordered the Johnny Burger, which featured three cheeses and onions.  My girlfriend ordered the JCB, which stands for Jalapeno Cream Cheese Burger.  You couldn't go wrong either way.   Every meal comes with a condiment tray- an impressive box that will allow you to dress up your burger anyway you see fit.  We ordered fries and onion rings to accompany the meal, but frankly they were sidenotes to the amazing burgers.  Now these burgers are not going to wow anyone with gourmet twists; they will hit you instead with simple, in-your-face goodness.  The talking ceased, the burgers disappeared, and instead of dessert we opted for a pitcher of Fuller's London Pride (unexpected surprise of a session beer!)  Anyway, with our stomachs full, we vowed to return-SOON.

Now I hate to read reviews where people compare apples to oranges-the service is slow in this type of bar.  If you want fast, friendly service, go to Outback or Chili's.  If you want one of the best (if not THE best) burgers in Denver-and authenticity and a sense of place mean something to you, then go to My Brother's Bar and order a pitcher of beer and kick back.  Better yet, let me know and I'll go with you.  The food will arrive soon enough, and believe me-when it gets there, it'll be worth it.