Waitman

Remind me where the Crown Plaza is? Was it El Chapultapec? The Cherry Cricket? Or Duffy's? (rereads note) Must be Duffy's if you had breakfast there.

It's been a few years since I've been back, but when we lived in Denver Potager was by far our favorite place. On Capitol Hill, noisy, hip, excellent food. I believe its reputation is still very strong. You might cruise out for Mexican if you've a mind, as well. And find a good place for Huevos Rancheros (made with local specialty green chili) for breakfast. Where are you staying. Also, try to get a martini in the lobby of the Brown Palace hotel downtown -- just a spectacular piece of Old Denver, and where Presidents and the Beatles stayed.

A screaming comes across the sky.

One dinner is runored to be a banana degustation prepared by Chef Pirate Prentice whose resemblance to Hertzer is such that some speculate that they are indeed the same individual, the name change having been necessitated by a Mann Act violation some years ago. Course will include: mugsfull of banana mead...banana croissants and banana kreplach, and banana oatmeal and banana jam and banana bread, and bananas flamed in ancient brandy. For a small additional fee an private kabbalah-type ceremony is available afterwards in a private room. The other dinner is reported to be planned for the Forked Yew, with dessert to follow at the Rusty Spoon.

Second C-B on the Uzar thing. Very cool. After the Mini-Bar, if still hungry, go to Jaleo for tapas -- same uber-chef, small plates, good times. CK is overrated. Saturday afternoon, though more expensive than Papaya King, hit up the Tabard Inn on N street between 17th and 18th, where you can sit in front of the fire and order aps and fine wines.

Hmmmm. Hard to get too excited about another celebrity chef opening another branch of another steakhouse. 'Less, maybe, it's the new Ray's. Though, now that my daughter's a teenager I consider Landrum less a celebrity than a menace.

Aspen Hunter Thompson used to hang at the Double Diamond, where I heard some great bands a few years back, and the Woody Creek Tavern, which is about 10 miles outside of town and is cheaper and rustic-er than the stuff in Aspen Proper. The bar at the Hotel Jerome was relatively informal the one time I was there -- admittedly off-season, but a half-drunk customer wandered in and handed off Dead bootleg to the bartender who put it over the PA. Try googling the restaurant at the Little Nell (hotel). Again, my info is a few years old, but it was, at one time, considered the best restaurant in town.

Sounds nasty to me.

Morou (sp?), late of Signatures, is competing

Sometimes checks are rung differently if there's a gift certificate involved. It can make the server's life easier on occasion, and smooth the checkout process. Most important (imho) gift certificates are so often loaded with fine print, restrictions, expiration dates etc. that it's best just to get it "approved" up front, so that any dificulties and legal interpretations can be settled before dining.

Is this directed at me?

La Chaumiere.

The reason the population is dropping -- if, indeed, it is -- is that middle- and lower-class families with kids are fleeing bad schools ridiculous real estate prices and poor services. The reason restaurants are booming is that these families are being replaced by by high-income singles and couples with no kids, enough money to insolate themseleves and a craving decent food in hip surroundings.

No early raw bar on Saturday.

Dec 20, 2003 (Assume opinions have changed)

Hell, you didn't have to go to Aarhus, you could have gone to our house (a few years back) to see that. Small ironic note for kid-a-phobes: if there's any way to ensure that the kid's being quiet in a restaurant, it's to hook him or her up.

Hey. I'm not against breast feeding in public if discreetly...yada yada yada. However, the "not intimate" argument is clearly absurd and the "natural act" argument hackneyed and clicheed. I was hoping for better. And, please God, don't come back with "the Europeans do it."

It's hardly a casual act -- like, say, shaking hands or air-kissing. I mean, give it a shot next time you get introduced in a restaurant and let me know how it goes. And, while we're on the subject, screwing and farting up there in the natural act hierarchy, but I don't necessarily want them going on at the next table while I'm trying to taste the Zinfandel. Personally, I've always found unnatural acts more compelling. Though again, perhaps more appropriate for the rstroom or a conveient broom closet.

Faster, Don, faster!

The funny thing (ok, a funny thing) is that while Greenwood sees herself not just an "artist in the kitchen," but a "fine artist" -- I believe she considered leaving cooking for a fine arts career just before opening Buck's and that it was a real option for her -- her presentations are hardly unique or artitistic in the way that makes (usually) magazine covers or goes onto the table at CitiZen. A rilled snapper. A grilled steak. You'd be hard-pressed to pick one of her dinners out of a line-up a week after you ate it. The one time she did make a magaize cover -- The Post Magazine's Dining Guide issue -- they showed her iconic wedge of iceberg lettuce with blue cheese and bacon. You know, the one they served at every Holiday Inn steakhouse in America when you were growing up.

It should indeed.

Fair point. But my experiences with some of his acolytes (never at EB) make me skeptical culinary of technocrats. Their cooking too often seems to lack soul, as I expect their wine would. On another note, the Francophile in me would like to bring up the concept of terroir, nod to it, and then unleash a Gallic sneer at the concept of ever re-creating terroir in the lab.

Same approach to wine that made Adria famous when he applied it to food.

That is a monster. I can't give too many details, because we generally wing these kinds of things, but based on a suggestion in some Jacques Pepin cookbook or another, we let the behemouth sit on the counter until it comes almost to room temperature, throw it in a hot, hot oven for maybe half an hour, and then turn the oven down to something like 225. The idea is that the more gentle heat cooks the inside effectively (you're only trying to get it up to 130, after all) without carbonizing the outer shell or overcooking outer perimeter of the meat. We haven't done this often enough to be utterly confident -- though we, too, are serving up prime rib for Christmas, so we can update you about 3PM on the 25th -- but it has worked in the past. PS: Whole Foods has prime prime rib on sale, for those eho have not yet bought.

It's not the cutlery, it's the stupid plates.