Ruth Tobias

One can’t help but feel a twinge of reverse ethnocentrism upon entering Phat Thai, can one? It sprawls, it gleams, it caters to the yoga-lean leisure class of Cherry Creek, & in short it’s the squeaky-clean antithesis of the tiny, gritty holes in the wall wherein most of us first fell for Thai food. Although the concept of authenticity is ever nebulous, each of the world’s cuisines does, at any given point in history, possess certain core characteristics by which it can be identified; Carbondale-based chef-owner Mark Fischer’s first Denver outpost looks a little too much like a glorified Chipotle for the comfort of one who fears that a hallmark of Thai cookery—its careful balance among spicy, salty, sour, sweet & herbaceous—may not translate against the paradoxically yet blandly colorful backdrop.

But that same one has hopefully done enough homework to know that Fischer’s no dummy—that Fischer himself would have done his homework before opening the first Phat Thai, & that even if he might put a contemporary twist on his menu here, a local spin there, & run a thread of flexibility to suit all manner of palates throughout, he’d remain essentially true to the tenets of the cuisine. That is in fact the case.

Indeed, while I’m inclined to adore the Soup Nazis of the world myself, one could argue that Thai cookery’s aforementioned hallmark is a matter of, if not compromise exactly, subjectivity rather than precision—what’s “balanced” to someone who’s sensitive to salt is going to differ from what’s balanced to a chile-head. In that light, I’m all for the table caddies equipped with containers of sugar, crushed red pepper, vinegar infused with sweet red pepper, & housemade nam pla, so that diners can doctor their dishes as they see fit—dishes that are already darn well balanced. Not that I didn’t add some seasonings here & there, but I did so in full recognition of the fact that my own palate is none too subtly in favor of salt, tartness, & heat over sweetness. (The only outright disappointment over the course of 2 meals was a bowl of phat si iew that both I & my companion found lacking in oomph, though the noodles had great texture. By contrast, whole tilapia took no prisoners w/r/t oomph.)

That palate was made for the simple but zingy appetizer of fresh green (as in young, unripe, hence tart) mango wedges (already half gone when I got around to snapping the below pic), served with chile-&-sugar-seasoned sprinkling salt.

And for the lovely herb salad with grilled calamari pieces & pomelo sections, topped with fried shallots & a dressing not unlike nam pla, plus a dollop of crème fraîche. Bitterness here, juiciness there, plus a touch of umami…intriguing all the way.

“Sticky” needn’t be a synonym for “cloying,” & here it thankfully isn’t; the 5-spice-dusted pork riblets are more aromatic than they are sweet per se, a trait that effectively cuts a bit of the fat too.

The red curry in which I swear an entire roast duck was bathed (that leg on top was just the beginning) was one of the things I did find myself adding a bit a salt & spice to; so velvety, so coconut-creamy, it was just a touch too sweet for me—though again, that doesn’t at all mean it was objectively too sweet. Rather, chunky with halved Thai eggplants (those cute round ones) & cherry tomatoes as well as bamboo shoots & gai lan (aka Chinese broccoli) & scented with kaffir lime & fried garlic, it was quite the elaborate, festive concoction—& the meat itself, in its luscious depth of flavor, just shone through it all. One of the best takes on duck I’ve had in some time.

Likewise dark & funky, goat, I’ve often thought (well, not often, but occasionally), is sort of the ungulate answer to duck. Kaeng massaman pae, or coconut-based goat curry with sweet potato, peanuts, tamarind, lemongrass & red chilies is no less lively for being wonderfully rich.

“Chicken basil” sounds boring. It isn’t. Decidedly on the savory rather than sweet end of the spectrum thanks to a blend of black soy & oyster sauce, gai lan, chilies, the namesake Thai basil & Thai chilies—a fried egg is the cherry on top—it’s much more multifaceted & flavorful than it has a right to be.

I didn’t try another companion’s phat thai with dried shrimp, tofu & turnips, but the visual suggests it’s no reluctantly proffered requisite; looks like it’s executed with care & panache to me.

It’s no fault of the kitchen that this photo of the fried rice I got to go is so ugly. The dish itself is tops; so often fried rice is blandly undergarnished, but here it’s almost cartoonishly chock-full of scrambled egg, chunks of sweet potato, bits of gai lan & scallion & jalapeño, & crushed peanuts, boldly splashed with both dark & sweet soy as well as fish sauce.

Whatever you get, trust me when I say you’d sure as shooting better wash it down with drinking vinegar in any of 4 flavors (I heart the tamarind). No, it’s not like taking a swig of straight acetic acid; both fruit-infused & sweetened, it’s also topped off with soda water, result being a light, bright, sweet-tart cooler. Chug, glug, smack lips, repeat.

They set it down before you very carefully, so that what you see is this:

But here’s what your companion gets an eyeful of:

Right on, Phat Thai! The stripped, chunked flesh is cornmeal-dredged & deep-fried with cubes of sweet potato & strips of red pepper, & the light brush of oil it all leaves on the bottom of the bowl, with minced garlic & Thai chilies…well, let’s just say one wishes it were a few millimeters deeper. (And that one had just the right starchy starch to soak it up—like Hawaiian sweet rolls. No, not rice, not even sticky rice. King’s.) Same goes for the dressing of fish & soy sauce, lime juice & cilantro—said companion & I discussed how we could get away with drinking it all by itself, &/or what spirit it might properly be paired with.

Full review to come.

Sure, it’s a mess, not least for being to-go in this case, but that’s what’s so great about this breakfast dish from El Paraiso. Machaca generally refers to dried, shredded beef that’s cooked so it’s no longer dry but still pleasantly chewy. Combining with scrambled eggs—as is, according to Wikipedia, popular with Chihuahuan miners—it’s served with refried beans, Spanish rice & handmade tortillas; the last time I had this much fun mixing everything up all together was when I was 8 & I’d let the ice cream melt so I could mash up the birthday cake into it & make soup.

Shame, shame, shame on me. I’m embarrassed that it took me years to get around to a meal at Black Cat Bistro, embarrassed that it’s taken me weeks to post about the extraordinary multicourse tasting I finally experienced—long enough for the details to be lost in the haze of general appreciation for chef-owner Eric Skokan’s style, eclectic in scope yet laser-precise in execution, & the graciousness & intelligence of the floor staff. Among them was the young wine gun Dev; if it weren’t for the menu he handwrote for me, I’d be embarrassed about the number of delicacies I could no longer identify—which, granted, is partly Dev’s fault, given the copious amounts of N.V. René Geoffroy premier cru rosé & Castelfeder Lagrein Riserva 2006 he kept pouring.

What I’ll never forget, however, is the tiny, scrumptious slice of heirloom carrot-chèvre terrine peeking out there next to the salt-&-vinegar turnip chips on an appetizer sampler that also included white radish soup with black truffle & heritage pork head cheese in a dried-tomato shell.

It was followed by a sturgeon duo: 1st, creamed & pickled sturgeon on a buckwheat blini with chopped egg & winter herb purée,

& 2nd, roast sturgeon with black garbanzo beans and black garlic.

A pasta duo included nutmeg-tinged farro with chanterelles & cherry tomatoes

& another strikingly funky dish I won’t soon forget—farmer’s cheese gnocchi with grilled chicken livers & mustard.

Meat courses took the elegant form of chicken ballantine with a lentil fritter, apple chutney & raita

& celery crêpes stuffed with duck ragôut, accompanied by squash gratin & sumac jus.

Yet another unforgettable tidbit: the warm apple-thyme tisane that came with a simple green salad. You use the spoon to stir it up before sipping—so pure, so refreshing.

Finally, I’m embarrassed to admit that I snapped a pic neither of the cheese course—a pungent, cold pairing of crumbled gorgonzola with beet gratinée—nor the palate cleanser we received in lieu of the dessert we just couldn’t hack: Asian pear with grapefruit & bruléed figs.

From start to finish, the tasting was accomplished, suave, balletic (& I say that as someone who hates the use of dancing metaphors in food writing). This post doesn’t do it justice; may it, in all that it lacks, inspire you to strike forth to Black Cat & judge for yourself.

This one’s for the eggs, the duck, the lamb, the random flora & fauna not covered by the other categories. Kudos to The Red Claw & Trillium for scoring three-peats in my Top, er, 33 Dishes of 2011.

Oak-smoked duck with berry jus, new potatoes & chard & lamb osso buco at Elway’s Downtown 

Chin chin at Hessini Roots International Café

TAG | Raw Bar’s kangaroo tartare

The Red Claw’s goat curry 

Vesta Dipping Grill’s pistachio-mint-crusted lamb ribs with rose-blossom yogurt

Row 14 Bistro & Wine Bar’s inaugural parsnip-walnut soup with duck cracklings & cranberry coulis

Huevo escalfaldo with chorizo & mascarpone at Ondo’s Spanish Tapas Bar

EDGE Restaurant & Bar’s cheesecake & panna cotta in a jar with graham-cracker crust & blood-orange gelée 

Trillium’s carrot cake with maple ice cream & carrot caramel

El Chalate’s banana bread

Buchi Cafe Cubano’s guava pastel

Sarah’s Banana Split at Baca at the Inverness (really!)

Amira Bakery’s Lebanese pie with zaatar & lebni

Linger’s raw “samosas” with curried cashew yogurt & cranberry-mint jam

Mushroom dynamite at Russell’s Smokehouse

Black Cat Bistro’s carrot terrine (right)

Thai Flavor’s omelet-topped eggplant salad

Crimson Canary’s veal scaloppini with fettuccine

Queen of Sheba’s kitfo

The Corner Office’s Downward Dog

Chile Verde’s chile relleno en nogada

Hayashi at Kiki’s Japanese Casual Dining

Bacon-crusted pork chop with Srirach risotto at Satchel’s on 6th

Tacos Jalisco’s chicharrónes

Cracovia’s kiszka (blood sausage)

twelve restaurant’s pork belly over braised cabbage & green chile with chicharrónes

BBQ pork necks from CoraFaye’s Café

Continued from yesterday’s plucked post. Can she cover beef, pork, veg & dessert for a total of 25 Best Dishes of the Year, before sundown tomorrow, folks? Stay tuned to find out.

Sadly, one is unpictured:
Izakaya Amu’s salmon sashimi in a yolk-based sauce. Revelatory.

Fish charcuterie from Wild Catch—RIP-ish

Pizzeria Locale’s insalata ai frutti di mare (right)

The Red Claw’s frog-leg curry (OK, not fish, only arguably seafood, but close enough—which makes The Red Claw 2 for 2, by the by)

Uni risotto at OTOTO Food and Wine

Trillium’s fried smelts (OK, that’s 6, but The Red Claw’s entry is arguable, so close enough—which means Trillium’s also 2 for 2, by the by)