New meaning to the phrase "garbage plate"

On Wednesday, I flew into Rochester, NY with a plan: visit what is known to a lot of foodies (including Jason Sheehan, of Westword fame) as one of the best cheeseburger places in America.

One small problem: we didn't have a rental car.

Three things happen when you don't have a rental car on one of these trips. One, we had to rely on our contact to drive us to where we were doing interviews. Two, no control over what you ate or when you ate. Three, the client probably isn't going to have the patience to drive you all over Rochester looking for said burger joint, especially when you've already spent 12 hours in an old van together over the better part of 36 hours.

So needless to say, I didn't end up at Schaller's Drive-In. Which is a huge disappointment in itself, but then, I had the bad fortunate to be tortured by the rest of the cuisine throughout central New York state.

Listen: Denver is not a mecca of great restaurants in the United States. But we get by. We are positively Paris-effing-France when compared to most of these places.

First, before we even arrived, I was pouring over Yelp on my iPhone looking for a sports bar within walking distance of our hotel (the Nuggets game, which I don't care to discuss). Then I found the Thirsty Turtle. 'Thirsty' implies booze - how could we lose? We went in, and immediately got the feeling that this was maybe not the place for a couple of out-of-towners. We got into an unfriendly conversation about the Red Wings with some unfriendly locals, and were saddened by the desperation you can only smell on those late 20-somethings stuck in Victor, with no prospects to get out. "It's good to get some local flavor," my cameraman would later tell me. 

As for the food, don't bother. As an ode to knowing I probably wasn't going to make it to Schaller's, I had a bacon cheeseburger that tasted like it was from a seriously dirty grill, and we split 10 hot wings that were not great, but at least were meaty.

The culinary abominations continued the next day. After a 3 1/2 hour drive to Walton, NY and a 2 hour shoot, we decided to stop at Papa's Diner. My cameraman, originally from Wayne, NJ, said he misses diners like this now that he lives in Colorado. I had the Walton Melt, which was chicken and peppers with some sort of (American? Swiss? I couldn't tell, which is a bad sign) cheese. There was also a lot of Elvis crap on the walls, which should have caused us to turn tail and run the second we walked in, but I'm an idiot and convinced us to "stay and try a little local flavor." Take that, cameraman.

That night, with no car and no energy, we walked the 1/2 mile to Chili's by the hotel, where we proceeded to eat basically none of our food (I picked at my disgusting Fajita Quesdillas) but drink a little bit (okay, a lot) too much.

Did I mention that was my birthday? Yep.

Finally, Friday we had another long drive to Angelica, NY (1 1/2 hours), where we built up an appetite shooting a landfill gas to electricity plant (yes, thank you for asking. The smell was incredibly appetizing). The food of central NY was almost vindicated when we stopped in Geneseo, NY for a burger at a bar called The Statesmen. Despite having one of those moments where you walk in and everyone stares at you for about 10 minutes. ("Not me," I plead with my eyes. "The cameraman looks like he'd be a lot better lay than me.") I had another bacon cheeseburger, which was actually very good. I maintain: you find the best cheeseburgers in America in dive bars.

Which brings me to the title of this blog: The garbage plate. Our gracious host told us about a place in Rochester called Nick Tahou Hots that serves what is called a "Garbage Plate", basically a big plate of hamburgers, hot dogs, macaroni, and the like. Why it's called a garbage plate, you got me, but it doesn't sound very good. I guess a lot of restaurants around Rochester have something like it nowadays. 

All that talk about what exactly goes into garbage plates was a fitting end to an underwhelming food trip in Rochester. Guess they slipped me the garbage plate the whole time I was there.

So is it Spicy?

This title sums up my first experiences with Ethiopian food. I like to think I'm rather daring when it comes to trying new food but I'll be the first to admit I'm a giant wuss when it comes to eating spicy food. The experience as I'll submit it to Hollywood...

Cast:
Kristen, a sarcastic foodie from Colorado, cautious about spicy food
Brandon, a sarcastic artist from Colorado, cautious about spicy food
Zach, Colorado native now living in Chicago, lover of Ethiopian food
Rachel, gal with international flair living in Chicago, loves Ethiopian food but knows none of the names of dishes.
Extra:
Friendly waiter
Scene:
Arada Restaurant.
Cast wanders hungrily down Santa Fe Blvd after taking in an art show.

Kristen:
sarcastically, "We could eat at that Ethiopian restaurant"
Zach/Rachel:
"Yeah!"
Kristen:
"uhhm ok"

Cast sits at table, reads menu
Kristen:
"What does this mean? Is this spicy? How does this work?"
Rachel:
"I don't know I just get served the stuff by my Ethiopian friends, it's good."
Brandon:
"Yeah I can't do spicy"
Zach:
"Uhm I think Berbere means spicy. I'm confused is this not family style?"
Brandon:
"Yeah Right!"
Rachel:
"It should be. I'm not that hungry"
Kristen:
"This one says mild, maybe I'll get that one"
(Yebeg Siga Alitcha, lamb stew with garlic and ginger)
Brandon:
"Oh I was going to get that one! "
Kristen:
"Fine, I'll get a different one."
Brandon:
"No, I'll get a different one."
Zach:
"No Way"
Kristen (to waiter):
Which ones are not spicy?
Waiter:
Anything that says "alitcha."
Kristen:
"Ok Brandon do you want chicken or lamb?"
Brandon:
"Chicken."
(Doro Alitcha: mild chicken with special Arada spices)
Kristen:
"Then I'll get the lamb. That waiter is really nice."
Zach:
"You lame losers, I'm getting spicy, spicy chicken!"
Waiter:
"Are you ready to order?"

Cast orders:
Yebeg Siga Alitcha
Doro Alitcha
Doro Wot (chicken in Berbere sauce)
Yatakilt Alitcha (potatoes, carrots, cabbage and onions)
Shrio Wot (chickpeas)
Tomato Fit Fit
Tomato Salad
Yater Alitcha (yellow split peas)
Yemiser Wot (spicy lentils)

Food Arrives, family style.
Waiter:
Explains dishes, serves food

Cast uses fingers and injera (a sour, soggy bread more like an un-fried tortilla) to eat.
Brandon sneakily takes candid Iphone photo of Kristen and food.

Cast stuffs themselves, eating much more than they should
Kristen:
"That spicy chicken isn't too spicy"
Brandon:
"Speak for yourself"
Rachel:
"Well then don't try the lentils"
Kristen:
"This is really good, especially the tomato fit fit, shiro wot, and the alitcha's"
Brandon:
"My chicken was the best!"
Zach:
"Bull Shit!"
Kristen:
"I'm glad I suggested this place"
Zach:
"I'm glad I took you seriously"
End Scene.

Well, my future might not be in screenplay writing but it will include more delicious food from Arada. I have my eyes on the Awaze Tips (Beef, berbere sauce, garlic and tomatoes) now that I know I can take the heat.

A Psychedelic Experience, No Drugs Required.

As a wannabe hippie (the 1960s version) The Psychedelic Experience Exhibit now at the Denver Art Museum is probably as close as I'll ever get to realizing my dream. Therefore I really liked it. I think those of you out there with more realistic goals could like it too if you take your time and look at the right posters.

First of all, it's worth it to read the artist information and information about the promoters and venues. Stories always add to the interest factor.

The exhibit starts with memorabilia from the Day-Glo days of Ken Kesey, The Merry Pranksters and the Acid Tests. Click for the condensed version of who these wack-a-doos are but if you can read hard to follow books with extraordinary speed, check out Tom Wolfe's The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Tests.

The most interesting pieces are optical illusion pieces that at first glance may just look like gibberish or more simplistic than they really are. Especially those of artist Victor Moscoso whose use of color contrast to display text it mind-bogglingly fun. We had a game of it trying to read the entire poster. Lee Conkiln's optical illusions are pictures within pictures. It's worth it to stand around and stare at their pieces and see things others miss while merely glancing around.

Also worth a visit is the Side-Trip where you can create your own poster or light show, listen to albums, chill on the couch or in a pillow-lined bathtub and leaf through a 1960s yearbook or LIFE magazine.

The exhibit only goes through July 21st so hurry up and make the trip! (pun intended, har har)

Mamma Knows Best!

As Carrie Bradshaw would say, "hello lover!" She was talking about shoes. I'll be talking about pizza. My favorite little pizza place in the MGM Grand, Las Vegas, Nevada to be exact.

I discovered Mamma Ilardo's a few years ago and now look forward to it every time I go to Vegas. Apparently it's a chain restaurant, which, sad for me, doesn't exist in the middle of the country. It does exist in the food court of the MGM past all the fancy restaurants.

The only thing I've ever gotten and the only thing I ever plan to get is the deep-dish pizza with sausage and pepperoni (double the pig, double the fun). Sara usually opts for the bread sticks so I'll go out on a limb and recommend them too. It's true I'm not a deep-dish expert (if I were I wouldn't fail at getting deep-dish every time I visit Chicago). Regardless of my status, this pizza is just damn good. Just the right amount of crunchy crust, sauce that isn't yuck like most pizza sauce, tasty sausage crumbles. I'd go on but my mouth is watering.

The point is it's good, it's fast, it's cheap (Vegas cheap) and most importantly it's ready at breakfast time. Mmmm breakfast of champions.

Don't make eye contact with a belly dancer

If you've learned one thing in the brief time we've had together, it's probably this.

I'm not necessarily the best communicator in the world. I eat - and I'm good at that. (Most obviously.) I drink - I'm pretty good at that. (I've got a no-vomit streak going, and that's not going to end anytime soon.) I can hold a conversation with most people. But when it comes to playing cat and mouse with someone who is half-naked and gyrating like a top, not so much.

Friday night, my friend Marcedes, her husband Matt, and our friend Tom all went to Mataam Fez, 4609 E. Colfax Ave., for dinner. You don't need me to tell you about Colfax east of Colorado Boulevard. Lacking the charm of Capitol Hill Colfax and Golden Colfax, this part of Colfax is the part that you speed through. I wouldn't call it scary, but it's definitely run down - it reminds me more of Detroit than any other part of Colorado. 

Anyway, it's not the best part of town. This little place has received 3 1/2 out of 5 stars on Yelp and I guess I'm just going to have to disagree. The service was hit or miss. Our hostess, who also functioned as a tea giver (giver of teas? Is that her formal title?) was warm, friendly and helpful. But our server couldn't be bothered. 

Dude, you had like 3 tables. And you still forgot my beer.

Did I mention there was a belly dancer? *Puts "Man Hat" on* She was probably in her middle 40s, which is not a problem, and in great shape, but I just have a problem gawking at women who are mere seconds younger than my mom. So she walks by, hips flying, hand cymbals flailing, and I make the mistake of a lifetime.

I looked at her in the eyes.

In that moment, I glanced at the hint of a life unfulfilled. Dancing for tips, smiling at all manner of food-inhaling gawkers. And I must have given her the sad eyes. Because after she got the sword out (yes, the sword. Which she proceeded to swing about wildly) she wouldn't leave us alone. So Matt gives me a dollar, in the hopes that her money lust will be fulfilled by a single dollar and she'll go away. "Where do I put it?" I ask. They laugh and point to her bottom/underwear thing. 

So in an attempt to not catch her desperation, I try to hand her the dollar. And she looks at me, points to her crotch and says, There. Like she's a stripper or something. 

Needless to say, I very gingerly place the dollar in her whatever-you-call-it and turn around. Slowly, so as not to disturb the stripper, I mean dancer, in her natural habitat.

On a normal day, I can forget all of that. As long as the food is good, I don't care if I get a smile with my service.

AS LONG AS THE FOOD IS GOOD.

Decent. Edible. Different. These are all adjectives that I would use to describe the food. 

Our first course was a Lentil and Lamb soup in a tomato base. It was good, but a little bit too salty for my taste. And I love salty things. Our second course was a plate full of various vegetables cooked different ways - nothing to write home about, except maybe the carrots that had been cooked in a hot sauce. Our third course was a meat dessert pie, which was by far the highlight of the meal. Fourth came our entrees - mine, Lamb in a honey-almond sauce. Again, meh. Finally, tea, which was chai-like and waaaay too sweet.

I took pictures of all our food, but will only threaten you with these two.

If you like to wear a towel over your left shoulder and use it as a napkin, give this place a try. If you like to make awkward eye contact with half naked women, give this place a try. If you are ready to endure mediocre food for one good course, by all means, give Mataam Fez a try.

Intentional Food Snobs, Accidental Winos

I go to Vegas for the food. That's right, shocking.

Imagine my euphoria when we discovered that the majority of the nice restaurants in the MGM Grand were having spring tasting menus (through the 31st of May). That's like winning at a slot machine people.

After much debate, my group of girlfriends and I decided to go big time and go to Nob Hill Tavern. I campaigned hard for this choice as previously we had merely had appetizers and two drinks and it cost $80 and now I could get 4-courses for $49! Winner? Me.

As a table we decided to invest in a bottle of wine, that's what highbrow people do after all. Still though as none of us have reached our full Housewives of Denver status we picked a cheaper* Pinot Noir on the list. We informed our Sommelier of our wine selection and he seemed unusually excited about our cheapo* bottle of wine. More on this later.

Then the food came! (cue the ding!ding!ding! of winning a jackpot)

We received two pots of delicious gruyere fondue with sourdough bread. Oh so tasty. That's Lizzie in the background and Sara the hand model. Then came the first courses. I opted for the cream of broccoli soup and was ever so pleasantly surprised when grilled cheese came with it. I'm not crazy about grilled cheese probably because I have an aversion to Kraft Singles but this grilled cheese was no "I'm in college and I'm broke grilled cheese." The cheese wasn't mysteriously salty and it was grilled just right. There was also bacon in the soup. If you don't already know bacon makes every food better and I mean EVERY food.

Bring on the Main Courses! By this time I'm already feeling the pinch of too much food. I probably went a little too hard at that fondue out of pure excitement. After leaving half of the grilled cheese behind as a causality I was greeted with this magnificent dish.


I won't lie when the menu said Braised Short Rib with Root Vegetables and Mashed Potatoes I didn't exactly know what Braised Short Rib meant. I chose it because it had me at Mashed Potatoes. As it turns out a Braised Short Rib is like a pot roast, a pot roast from Heaven. It was better than grandma's. I never thought I would say that, I'm sorry grandma. I wanted to eat it all but and I tried my hardest, until my stomach was audibly yelping in pain. I did make a tiny bit of room to try Sara's dish, Chicken and Dumplings. To which my official review was and will remain, "I didn't know chicken could taste that good!"



For dessert I had Irish coffee creme brulee (I don't know how to make fancy accent marks) and by this time I must have been so delirious by deliciousness that I neglected to take a picture. It was beautiful and fabulous and somehow I managed to eat it all.

Finally it was time to go. Our bill arrived and to our surprise (or maybe for some, horror). We had not ordered at cheap bottle of wine. I even checked with our adorable Sommelier to be sure we weren't all food drunk or actually drunk, as we had finished the bottle. We were neither. Instead we had accidentally ordered a 2006 Kosta Browne from Kanzler Vineyards* costing over $200. Nothing to say to that except that fate wants us to be as fancy as we pretend. So go to Nob Hill Tavern they'll assume you fit in and perhaps you'll accidentally prove that you do.

Jet setting on the cheap

Doing my daily surveying of the Internets, and came across an interesting post on Mashable. Turns out if you aren't too picky about your travel dates, you can go pretty much anywhere in the US, Caribbean and Mexico for well under $1,000 - and sometimes even Hawaii.

Voyij scans all the best deals on the web and combines them in a super easy-to use filtering system so you can decide on a trip based on location, length of stay, star ratings, etc. Very handy, especially if you don't have a schedule to work around. For instance: Four night hotel stay plus airfare to Puerto Vallarta in the beginning of August = $480. For reals? Yes.

Here's to becoming Samantha Brown and having some Great Weekends-style trips.

Today's Special: Have a Semi-Decent Day!

Do you like goat cheese and arugula omelets? How about quinoa pancakes?
Then this post isn't for you....

If your family is like my family (highly doubtful), your mother likes to be treated extra special on Mother's Day by being taken to a nice breakfast, at the neighborhood greasy spoon diner.

The Village Coffee Shop in Boulder is a family tradition. What can I say? We are classy people. What do most classy people like? Perfect, cheap hash browns, that's what. If you disagree it's because you're just posing as classy, pathetic really.

Let me break it down for you (as you are likely still having issues coming to grips with your lack of classy at the moment). It's a diner. A magical 890 square foot diner. You've got your stationary 2-tops, 4-tops, and counter seating. You also have your regular waitstaff, who I'm sure if you go often enough you'll get to know by name, a mission that my brother is trying to complete before graduation. He just wants to order "the regular," wouldn't we all....

I almost exclusively get a half order of biscuits and gravy with a side of hash browns. This is more food than I can actually eat for $4. For the sake of journalism I ventured out today. I had the Denver omelet that came with those perfect hash browns (crispy on the outside, soft inside and no wading pool of grease, well maybe just a little) and some toast ($7.50). I don't like eggs that much and I don't like green peppers that much but I really liked this Denver Omelet, so it must have been spectacular. Oh, I also had some hot chocolate the kind that comes with a tower of Redi-Whip on top, yum.

When you go (as soon as you get over yourself you arugula snob), if you go on a weekend expect to wait in a line. Don't fret it moves very quickly, especially if you stare at the people eating through the window. Expect to have a cheap, fast and lovely breakfast. Finally and MOST IMPORTANTLY tell the waitress if you or other members of your party are visiting for the first time. They likely won't ask but if you volunteer the information, you'll get a special surprise.

My first foray into DC

You might know that I have a twin brother. You might not. But what you should know is that he, like I, is a recovering fat dude.

And we still love to eat.

So I got called off the bench to pinch hit in Washington DC at the beginning of this week. Andrew recently moved to DC, and I haven't seen him since. It was a family reunion of sorts, the kind that only happens over beers (lots. and LOTS. of beers) and Irish Whiskey.

Ever heard of Powers? It's good stuff, and I've never had it. My brother's roommate, though, swears by the stuff and who am I to disagree? So we drank too much of it, but it was smooth. ("It's pure pot still," Deeds would tell me later. Which is not entirely true. But it's still good.)

And we ate. Oh my, we ate.

Andrew and his fiancee, Javi, made me dinner the first night. Pollo Asado, or their version of it, which rocked my world, and various assorted veggies. As an aside, Javi squeezes lime or lemon on everything, a side effect of her South American upbringing. It's a delicious change of pace.

Night two, we kind of ate and drank our way around Chinatown. Our dinner consisted of tapas from La Tasca. Reviews on this place are mixed, and my review is a bit mixed, too. The Sangria we had, the Rebujito, was pretty good. Our tapas, various assorted ones, were hit or miss. Some I didn't really like, but two, the Vieras, scallops, and the Sollomiio de Cerdo, pork tenderloin in a rosemary cream sauce, were great. There was a shit ton of cheese on one plate - and it was good, Liz Lemon style.

We somehow (drunkenly) made our way over to RFD, or Regional Food and Drink, which is kind of THE sports bar in Chinatown. A vast assortment of beers made up for a lack of ambiance - and guess what? There was Powers there, too.

My lunches consisted of Au Bon Pain, where I had a mozzarella sandwich (meh) and Chop'd, where I had a TO DIE FOR Ceasar Salad.

My new mission is to find Powers in Denver, and as an ode to the roommate, drink the whole bottle in two nights.

Rain ruins potentially awesome blog post, and other misadventures

What we planned to do in Montrose:

• Hike in the Box Canyon in Ouray with my favorite baby, Castelle. (Photo is of Cas and Brooke, his mom, at the Black Canyon)
• Go garage sale-ing.
• Go for a nice long bike ride toward Gunnison.
• Go to the naked hot springs, Orvis, in Ridgeway.
• Have a picnic.
• Hang out at the pool at the Best Western Red Arrow, my favorite hotel in the world (disclosure: it is managed by Castelle's mom and dad).

What actually happened in Montrose:

• It rained.
  
• A lot.
• Wtf.
  

So stay tuned for a real blog post about the loveliness that is Montrose, CO. Beyond the meth addicts and crime problem, it's really quite a nice area. Of course, I really like deserts; to each his own.

Three things I can write about in spite of inclement weather:

• Pollux. I miss shopping so much. Glenwood has, um, Target (which I love, you know that, Target) but I haven't found a store here that caters to my personal style, if you will. Luckily for me, I have Pollux (there's also a location in Grand Junction). Last time, I spent an amount I am embarrassed about. This time, I kept it to a hat that looks sort of like this. Cute. Go me, with the willpower.
• Belly. In addition to being my favorite word, this is also a new-ish restaurant in Montrose. Excellent Friday night specials for the ladies ($1 wells), good live music Saturday nights. Food: average, though I hear the coconut shrimp are pretty great. BLT had lots of bacon, which made me happy enough. Oh, and apparently Justin Timberlake and Jessica Beale ate there once when they were in Telluride. So it's kind of like I'm famous now.
  
• 
• Suds. Sure, it may not be the best bar in town, but it's home. They don't serve food. Unless you count hot pockets as food. They don't have a patio. Unless you count the back alley. BUT: colorful characters abound, it's worthwhile to get to know the bartenders, and sometimes there is karaoke. Plus sometimes the bartenders jump over the bar to break up fights. So it's kind of like Roadhouse. You can also smoke in the bar, which may be good or bad, depending on your habits.

The good and the bad

Let us start with the bad.

Griff's Hamburger, located on 742 S. Broadway. According to some, there are comparisons to In-N-Out. The Drive-thru was looking busy which indicated that perhaps these burgers are kind of a big deal. The menu had your normal everyday burger (but thin patties like In-N-Out) along w/ sides and a variety of shakes. David and I got the Double Double type meal and substituted soda for vanilla shakes. I was excited that the shake was really thick and delicious. The fries were hot and fresh from the deep frier. I was already thinking in my head that I would recommend them...until I had the burger. I don't like tasting the essence of a cow when eating. Yes it should taste like meat but I felt as if I were eating the remains from the slaughter house. This was truly disappointing as I LOVE burgers. I'll even finish the burgers that Wendy's will mess up. This time, a burger was left behind.

Here's the good part:

Boulder Cafe on 12th and Pearl. They have a great happy hour--1/2 off all draft beers, house wine, margs and select appetizers. Favorites include the Spinach and Asiago dip, cheddar cheese fondue, chicken wings, shrimp, and calamari. I'd especially like to recommend the Angus beef sliders that I had on Saturday. It restored my faith in the American burger once again.

Alas, all is well in the world.

Brunch-a-licious

Tasty = Jonesy's Eat Bar, Denver, 20th and Logan.

Brunch on the Weekends = Any or all of the following:
$10 pitchers of Mimosas, ham and cheese croissants with hollandaise sauce for dipping, sausage biscuits with gravy, truffle french fries and much much more.

Eat it, you'll be glad you did.

Smart? Drink on a Weeknight.

Because apparently I'm the lush of the group...

I highly recommend Scruffy Murphy's in Denver between 20th and 21st on Larimer St, especially on a Wednesday night during Geeks Who Drink. John Murphy and his Irish accent are very nice, the decor is interesting, they have Strongbow Hard Cider on tap and it's not overly crowded like some trivia events. The trivia is eight rounds of random, including audio and visual rounds.

Just be forewarned that team Angela Lansbury's Brass Knuckles doesn't mess around and we also operate incognito (notice no picture of us). We perform especially strong in goth Linkin Park Covers, Inside the Actor's Studio Clips and Wham! Lyrics "these guilty feet have got no rhythm."