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.