The Dish Bistro: Tawdry but Tasty

If you love neighborhood bistros that wow you with great food in an unpretentious atmosphere, then the Dish Bistro is for you. We were quickly enthralled with our meal and attentive service and certainly did not need to dress up to feel welcome. The Dish Bistro’s interior can best be described as upscale thrift shop with a touch of shabbiness. You certainly won’t find the well-dressed set here preening at the bar. The clientèle was local and casual. The white table clothes are hidden under brown paper and the plates, while different, each contained a rooster in that typical French country look. The walls contained abstract art and the lighting was those tacky gold plated chandeliers you see in track homes painted psychedelically blue.

The wine-by-the-glass list was limited and very generic but by the bottle it was better. I did see a David Bruce Petite Syrah listed.

We started with a plate of mussels cooked non-traditionally in a yellow curry sauce with red grapes and sliced fennel. Warm French bread made slurping up the tasty sauce that much easier. Our entrée was a sliced duck breast covered in fois gras butter, spaghetti squash mixed with duck confit and greens. The portion was a bit small to split but after feeding on the voluminous mussels, we felt full and actually skipped dessert.

The Dish Bistro has a small private dinning room downstairs. To get to it, you have to traverse part of the kitchen and descend a rickety set of stairs. This room is tawdry but certainly intimate. I would not dine there but if you are looking for room where no one would look to find you, this is the place. You can pretend you are refuges from the Nazi occupation of France.

Banff Film Festival...World Tour

Every February, outdoor lovers in Boulder flock in droves to the Boulder Theatre to what the Banff Film Festival World Tour. These movies always make me feel inadequate. It is not just the extreme athleticism displayed in 90% of the movies, but the heart wrenching environmental stories they always manage to toss in. Every year there is a movie about women who gives up both comfort and health to save either native peoples or some wild animal. Undoubtedly, there are people all over the world who choose to live off the grid for some good cause, but why should such activism come at such a price. Two years ago the protagonist’s liver and kidneys were failing because tainted water she had consumed in Nepal. At the end of the movie we received a brief note that she is on death’s door and are left wondering until next year how it turned out. This year, our featured Artemis turned out to have a brain tumor by the end of the flick. Perhaps the filmmakers find such pathos inspiring, but I think it is a downer. Are there no activists out there that go to lead happy, healthy lives? Such stories just hammer home the point that third world countries are dangerous and you are better off vacationing at Club Med. Surely, that can’t be helping tourism. Cynicism aside though, most of the films do inspire you to get off the couch and get out there. There are gear vendors in the hallway to show you how and a raffle of free goodies at intermission. Next year, be sure to grab a ticket. If you love the outdoors, you will love these films.

I do have one final rant, directed to the organizers of this event. Move the thing to a real theatre instead of the Boulder Theatre. That venue is the worst possible place to hold a fest like this. The straight back seats are the most uncomfortable in the world. This year we thought we had a system by bringing our thermarest butt pads and down jackets we could tuck behind us for back support. Even with these improvements, our backsides were still throbbing by intermission and all the blood in our bodies had drained into our feet. I could barely walk by the end. I love this film fest, but after three years of physical torture, I will have to give it serious thought whether I want to put myself through it again next year. A larger venue would also give more room for vendors and patrons to mingle. So World Tour organizers get smart and find us another venue.

Seven: An Eclectic Taste Sensation

Don’t let Boulder’s Seven’s dark black interior and uncomfortable straight back booths seats deter you from trying this wonderful restaurant. I would classify it as Asian/South American fusion. I always worry about fusion restaurants whose chefs assume that dumping two ingredients from two different parts of the world will equate to something wonderful. Frequently, the flavors don’t blend and you are left with a schizophrenic palate screaming for lithium. Seven, on the other hand, was like an hour at the Boulder Creek Festival. Its cultures weave in an out of each other in a kaleidoscope.

With us for this event was a bonafide vegetarian, and Seven boasts several tasty looking vegetarian dishes. She started with the organic green salad and a tofu dish with large chunks of tofu wallowing with veggies in a curry sauce. I daringly took a bite of tofu and pronounced it edible even for the likes of a carnivore like me.

I, on the other hand, started with the Mahi Mahi Cerviche, which came decoratively perched in a large martini glass. The fish was soaked in a citrus juice and was served with ginger “tostones” (i.e. chips). The highlight, however, was the pork tenderloin, which came with a medley of diced Asian vegetables in a Sake sauce. Extra sake came on the side in a sherry glass glued to the plate by a wad of wasabi. Dripping the sake over the pork gave it terrific flavor. My splitting dinner partner and I fought voraciously over each morsel.

The restaurant was dead on the cold Tuesday evening we went which enabled executive chef Diego Conconati to come out and chat with us. He was friendly and shy but obviously passionate about his little culinary niche.

The bar matron was very talented in mixing up all those bizarrely named South American drinks like Caipirinhas and Mojitos. There were several worshippers glued to their stools at the bar that parallels the tables.

So Boulderites, don’t forget Seven when wandering around the Pearl Street Mall. It is situated across from the Daily Camera building on the west side of the mall. How rowdy and noisy it gets on the weekends you will have to discover for yourself. Bag a table though and avoid the booth seats unless your body naturally conforms to right angles. If it does, this kind of fusion is probably too out there for you anyway. Maybe we’ll see you because we plan to go back.

Panzano: So So

For February, my fine dining club went to Panzano in Denver. The boys really liked the experience while the girls found it only so so. This is not a place I will be racing to get back to even though there were a few tasty items.

The group started with the antipasto platter, which was quite large. It contained olives, haystack goat cheese marinated in olive oil, baked garlic, and a variety of pestos. There was plenty to share and the items were different from your standard antipasto, which I always find appealing.

The best part of the entire meal was Panzano’s signature grilled Caesar salad. I actually ordered this by accident and was so glad I did. The head of Romaine is placed on the grill and scalded. Who knew that burnt lettuce could taste so good? I wonder how they figured this one out? Did a waiter accidentally drop the lettuce on the grill? Voila! C’est magnifique! Next time I burn something at home I’ll have to give that one a try. “Really, I am just trying to come up with the next burnt masterpiece…really.”

Our entrees consisted of an organic NY strip on a bed of pesto, pasta, and a red sauce. It came with a truffle-oil custard that was more interesting than the steak itself. This entrée was the special and was the best we ordered. I ordered lamb cannelloni that sounded inviting with its pomegranate seeds, walnuts, and goat cheese. In reality it was marginal. None of the flavors blended being discreet chunks of things. The portion was too small to split as well. Four bites and I was done. Our final entrée was the veal scallopini, which was generous in its portions. It came with mashed potatoes. Our officially Italian diner raved that it was the best he had had. I found it bland, which confirms that you need to read these reviews with a grain of salt. There is something for everyone out there.

We ordered 4 desserts, a gelato collection, a sorbet collection, a chocolate tart, and a tiramisu. Both the sorbet and the gelato were home made and flavorful. The tart was uninspiring even to a chocoholic. The tiramisu was by far the best and normally I dislike that dessert. I only got a bite because the owner was hording it all for himself, but that one bite was creamy and sinful. I can almost forgive him for hording…almost.

Panzano’s ambiance is non-descript with tables and booths stretching back in a long rectangle. The walls are covered with small hand painted oils. We ended up at a large circular table near the open kitchen. Here the girls and the boys again differed. The girls found this location to be noisy, full of traffic and unpleasant. The boys enjoyed feeling like they were at the center of things and reveled in the bustle. Our waiter seemed condescending to me but the boys found him charming.

Panzano consistently gets great reviews for its northern Italian fare. I am quite picky and rarely rave over Italian food so my critique may be terribly biased. Ask for a quiet table and choose carefully and your experience may have been better than mine.

Denver Chop House: Big Big Steaks

I am on a mission to find the perfect steak house. The Denver Chop House is not it, but it was fun none-the-less. The Chop House is big with booths and tables scattered along walls, down hallways, and out in wide-open rooms. It can be boisterous and filled with corporate parties marching to one of the many private rooms in the back. We ended up sitting along this route right before Christmas when corporate parties were at their peak. Our booth was large though, which provided a modicum of distance between the revelers and us. The walls are brick and wood with a traditionally manly feel about them. You can sit by wine racks, by the imposing bar, or near the brewery tanks.

A shameless worshiper of beef, I ordered the porterhouse and a large magnum of red wine. Fortunately, I had a friend with me to share the bounty because each steak also comes with a monstrous, family-style salad, corn bread, and a mountain of white cheddar mashed potatoes. The steak was cooked to perfection and slathered in artery clogging bourbon butter. If you are going to eat a porterhouse, you might as well go all the way! Despite the immensity of the meal, we almost broke out into a fight when it came time to gnaw on the bone.

Totally committed to gluttony, it being the Christmas season after all, we also ordered dessert and splurged on a glass of Innskillin Ice Wine, which I have wanted to try. My sugar infused brain has forgotten what dessert we had but it will never forget the wine. It was delicate, tropical and crisp. At $25 for a few sips it should be. If you like dessert wines, treat yourself to this one. It will be a religious experience. My other suggestion is to drink it alone. A small quantity of elixir and steak knives do not mix.

If you enjoy people watching and a casual atmosphere, the Denver Chop House may be for you. The food is as good at more expensive Steak Houses without the pretentiousness.

Vita Restaurant: Worth the Trip

Vita is a must try. The food was fun and unique even if the atmosphere is not the greatest, which is ironic since it was their promo photo that attracted to me to it in the first place. The photo shows a nice warm booth, subdued lighting, and fun light fixtures. This is slightly misleading since there are just a few booths in the place. Still, the view of downtown from the standard tables by the window is very nice. There were also fresh flowers on the table and jazzy prints on the walls. The light features were unique but too sparse and the ceiling was another industrial painted ventilation system. The crowd of swankily dressed young’ens at the bar probably did not even notice these architectural features being far more interested in checking each other out over frosty martini glasses.

The ambiance may have been average, but the food was delish. I started with the Fall Salad, which came out as a checkerboard of red and golden beets, greens, sliced radishes and goat cheese. I don’t know what I liked more, the presentation or the distinctive blending of flavors. My companion had another unusual dish of pork bellies (uncured bacon) with potato dumplings, minced apples, and a most flavorful juice. Despite the country fair lip smacking I heard from across the table, this was not Iowa home cooking.

Our shared entrée consisted of a duck breast on a bed of slaw that included golden raisons, chunks of duck comfit, potato gnocchi, and diced apple. How many times have you seen duck l’orange on the menu? I found the subtle flavors in this dish filled with complexity. Each bite was an adventure as I mixed and matched the various ingredients together. To be fair my companion thought this dish was boring. You’ll just have to try it for yourself and report back!

So, if you want an escape from the same old, same old (industrial ceiling aside) make the trip to the Highlands. If the crowd a vita is not to your liking, you can pop next door to LoLa, which caters to similarly draped 30-somethings making love to brightly colored concoctions. Viva Vita!

Leadville Weekend: Part 3: Leadville Hostel

View from parking lot of the Leadville Hostel
I want to take a moment to talk about the place we stayed in Leadville. I am not normally the hostel type. I like gourmet food, cushy feather pillows, and fawning service. Still I liked this place enough to book it for the last weekend in July. It was comfortable, homey, and perfect for a group outing. There are private rooms and bunkrooms with varying sleeping capacities.

There are multiple common rooms as well. The basement contains a roaring stove with couches galore and a pool table. Close to the stove, heat was intense so if you are a delicate summer flower or hothouse succulent, you will feel right at home. Upstairs is another living room with wrap around couches surrounding a large screen TV. Behind this is a comfy couch ensconced in a picture window with views of the mountains. It is much cooler there of course, which would make it the perfect respite for my mother, whom I call “Judy of the Tundra” because of her whacked out thermostat. I was not about to ask, but it seemed like several hot flash mamas were enjoying it as well. Wool blankets abound, however, if you want to enjoy the sun and view without drastically lowering your body temperature.

The owners, Wild Bill & Kathy, hail from the Delta region of Mississippi where straightforward hospitality combine with the passionate vocalizations and rhythmic guitars of Blues. Wild Bill came to Leadville to ski but his soul is still in South. The hostel is covered in Blues festival regalia and the strains of Snooky Pryor resound from the large kitchen. Given the chance he will talk your ear off with the history of both his homes. He had us all watch a video on the history of the 10th Mountain Division, which trained for WWII at nearby Camp Hale. His unconsciousness ease in a room full of strangers makes him the perfect hostel host. Cathy is quieter but equally pleasant.

There is bottomless tea and coffee (for a small donation) in the kitchen. You can bring your own food and store it neatly in a named box in the fridge or pay $10 for dinner and $5 for breakfast. We opted for the latter, which was great. We had pasta and salad one night and pork loin the next. After a hard days snowshoeing, it is pleasant to hang around a large table and feed with friends.


Just to be fair, not all was perfect. Our room was in the basement and it was profoundly noisy. A 20-person church group came in at 1:30 in the morning dragging god knows what down the wooden stairs. The kids were screaming and doors were slamming. They were up again at 6 am to go skiing. The noise was thunderous and the 3-person communal bathroom filled with dripping teenagers. The adults were apologetic later once they learned they were not the only people in the 40+ occupancy basement, but this quickly evaporated the next day when the departed at 6am dragging what sounded like coffins up and down the floor and up the stairs. Later I saw that they had been dragging large, industrial sized boxes up the stairs. Most of our party stayed in the bunkrooms on the main floor, which not only had their own bathroom, but were also insulated from the cacophony below. If you are a light sleeper, stay in one of those rooms.

If you like people, are on a budget, or are just in the mood for something different, give the Leadville Hostel a try.