The second I walked into Steak au Poivre, I expected a diminutive man in a white suit to run past me, pointing into the air and screaming “Da plane, da plane!” The ambience of the place is very Fantasy Island, complete with wicker chairs, a big palm in the corner…
We all pine for simpler days, like those in high school when our only real worries were what to wear, who was engaging in heavy petting with whom (or, better yet, actually doing the deed), who you were going to stuff in his locker that day, when you were going…
Shake it like you got it. Herman’s Hideaway was the first live-music venue I got into with a fake ID. As a Denver teen who hadn’t traveled much, I imagined that it was our version of New York’s legendary CBGB, the thoroughly hip and cool place to see up-and-coming bands…
Planning a wedding is a big job for a bride and her family. They have to decide on the service, the flowers, the wedding-party members, the date, the reception hall, the menu, the availability of alcohol, the invitations, the tuxedos, the bridesmaid dresses that will never be worn again, the…
There was this one time, at band camp…. John Burr has had a lot of big ideas. In 1993 he established Soundstructure Studios, providing spaces where acts can rehearse at full tilt without hearing the music of the band next door or subjecting their neighbors to songs that might make…
We here at the Institute of Drinking Studies got into journalism for the same reason as Woodward and Bernstein, George Will and Woody Paige: to get girls. We’re still big fans of hard-hitting reportage, and when we see something like the piece 20/20 did a while back — an entire…
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. The minute I set foot in the Donkey Den, I thought about the old joke where Saint Peter lets a man try both Heaven and Hell in order to decide where he’d prefer to spend eternity. He goes to Heaven first, and…
We here at the Institute of Drinking Studies have determined that good bars are more a state of mind than a physical place. Good bars share similar attributes: not just plentiful booze, but an atmosphere that suits your mood and purpose on a particular night. If you’re looking for serious…
Welcome to the newest dive in town. When we entered the bar at the new Downtown Aquarium (formerly the barless Colorado’s Ocean Journey), my friend oohed and aahed. “Gosh, it looks just like a grotto,” she said. Yes, but more like the Disneyland grotto on the Pirates of the Caribbean…
There are signs I may be getting old — although I like to attribute them to things like global warming and international terrorism. Gray hairs pop up in odd places; I spend as much time peeing as I do drinking beer; hangovers last at least 48 hours; and I haven’t…
Dylan’s Ass Deluxe 30 South Broadway 303-722-1550 I don’t really understand why, but I just adore Deluxe. Does it have the best bar in town? Not even close — in fact, the bar lacks both depth and breadth. Best food? I’m a huge fan, but I’m no professional food critic…
You should never have to wait for some things: for sex in a pornographic film claiming to have a plot and “acting”; for beer in a bar; for red lights; for people to move out of the left lane on the highway; for delivered pizza; for the football season to…
Six degrees of Kevin Bacon. Sometimes Denver seems so small that the concept of six degrees of separation feels vastly overstated. (Say, like when I discover that Patrick Osborn, this paper’s Drunk of the Week, was drinking in the very same place I was, as happened this past week.) When…
Make no mistake: To drink at Institute levels without being arrested or causing harm to yourself, others or international relations, you must train. I am not going to reveal our official regimen here, but suffice it to say that unaccomplished drinkers need to know their limits. This job is not…
For some pathetic reason, every time I go to a great happy hour I encounter an unhappy old flame. So far, the only spot that’s escaped this curse is McCormick’s in the corner of the Oxford Hotel — and its happy-hour deal is so good that I’d be willing to…
Corporate America seems intent on demeaning society. I discovered this recently while paging through Cosmo to a) find out what a pig I am, b) see guy “sex secrets” revealed to women who must have been raised in a convent or closet, and c) reaffirm that women, despite their protestations…
It’s that bittersweet time of year when we must say goodbye to certain members of the Institute of Drinking Studies as they move on to greater responsibility, more disposable income and, with any luck, more time between binge-drinking bouts. While their departures sadden those of us who remain at the…
Exactly what the trendy (read: expensive) bars around the corner along Larimer Square needed: a front porch. The Front Porch is a beautiful yet comfortable sanctuary for twentysomethings, like your coolest friend’s parents’ basement, complete with PlayStation. I walked in and ordered a more grown-up toy, an extra-dry vodka martini…
Numerous traits separate the men from the guys. Men come up with sensitive gifts to present their dates, surreptitiously hoping to buy a night in their company. Guys look on such behavior as brown-nosing; a guy’s date is lucky if he shows up on time and dressed appropriately. Men drink…
I’ve never understood why certain food and drink specialties are available just once a year. Do I only crave Cadbury Creme Eggs at Easter? Do I only want candy corn around Halloween, candy canes at Christmas? Had McDonald’s kept its Shamrock Shake on the menu year-round, perhaps children today would…
On a midweek foray to the Atomic Cowboy (3235 East Colfax Avenue), I quickly ingratiated myself with one of the waitresses and got some background on the joint — because that’s the kind of Woodward-and-Bernstein journalist I am. “Why is it called the Atomic Cowboy?” I asked. “I don’t know,”…
Many years ago, I drank many margaritas at Juanita’s. So when noted restaurateur Frank Bonanno returned this corner space on 17th Avenue to its Mexican roots, transforming the old Rhino Room into Milagro Taco Bar, it seemed like my formative years had been miraculously resurrected. And what I found at…
