fish don't fry in the kitchen, beans don't burn on the grill

Right off the bat,

I'd like to dedicate some art to my friend, problem child.

Last week our good friend Cindy left us. Not in the eternal way, however, it could be argued that she is now in heaven. Cindy has moved to Hawaii by way of a job transfer. We will greatly miss Cindy as we have greatly missed Cindy's man, our friend, Tom, who was also transfered away from us over a year ago to Alaska. A place with proportionate beauty to Hawaii's heavenly warmth, but decidedly cold as hell.

On Saturday, we missed our friend Tom as we went out to dinner one last time with Cindy and her friend Diane who was visiting from the east coast. The restaurant we ate at was Il Posto. It was Tom + Cindy who first introduced us to Il Posto, and it has risen to be in the top of the Pendleton's Best Restaurants list. The menu is Italian, as is the chef, Andrea Frizzi, he is from Milan, specifically. 

Sharon and I were both raised, Christian. As we've grown older, we've chosen voluntarily to remain believers and our faith continues to be our great inspiration and purpose for our time.

However, we are no less devout in the religion of fine food and wine, and for Sharon and I, experiencing a masterfully conceived meal together is undoubtably one of our most sacred past times. If we can find people who share our affinity for slow food, all the better. For Sharon and I, food is not a thing to be taken lightly, and meal time is not a time to be dreaded for lack of ideas on how to cook ground beef. If the idea of spending three or four hours over a meal perplexes you, Sharon and I would be honored to take you to school.

The menu at Il Posto is Italian. The property itself is located at 2011 East 17th Avenue, Denver, CO 80206, in between a Thai restaurant and The Thin Man bar. This was our third visit. Il Posto opens for dinner at 5:30 and tables can be had for walk-ins until about 6:30, beyond that time you'll be waiting. So I recommend reservations. Off the sidewalk is the patio which is closed during cold weather. During nice weather, the front walls of the bistro which are two garage doors, are raised to create open and airy dinning. This night, the front door was covered on the inside with a black curtain in an attempt to dampen the cold chill of air that puffed into the dinning area each time it was opened. When we entered, the hostess took our names and saw that we'd made reservation and seated us immediately. Our table was the first table inside, so the cold puffs were felt until the place soon filled up with warm hungry bodies. The decor is spare and modern but still cozy, intimate, and sexy. I'd guess there are about 40 seats total, all in one room. The ceilings are high and the kitchen is open for all to see. A few seats can be had at the bar which give you front row views of the chefs at work.

After the hostess took our coats and we were seated, we were each brought a small glass of Lambrusco wine. This is tradition at Il Posto and it's a perfect aperitif to begin the meal. If you've never had Lambrusco, it's a light, slightly effervescent red wine, served lightly chilled. The alcohol content is around 7 percent, not much, so it's easy to drink and it wakes up your taste buds.

The crowd that you'll see at this neighborhood magnet is the usual Denver dinning crowd. twenty-five to sixty years old, casually but smartly dressed (no ties), and slightly bohemian. The servers and managers are food lovers themselves and their dress and manner is also casual and reflective of individual preference. We were being served by Dario, himself a native of Milan, and the second time Sharon and I had been under his excellent care. In addition, Bob, the general manager and wine guy, was a friend of mine. We had worked together for a short time at another restaurant. Bob was at our table frequently with a generous hand on the wine bottle and a curious eye for our friend Cindy. 

The use of individual menus is forgone here. Instead, two large chalk boards, hang high on either side of the room are hand written with each night's offerings. The menu changes daily, so if you make return visits, you will not have the same meal twice. The menu is broken down in traditional Italian style. Tagliere (in this case, cured meats + true cheeses served at room temperature), Assaggini (which means, a small taste, usually a tiny portion of food, or a small piece of something), Primi (first course, usually pasta or gnocchi), Risottos, and last, Secondi (second course, usually the entree).

We started the meal with the Tagliere: Parma prosciutto, riserva mortadella, cacciatorino, teleggio, dolce gorgonzola, black-truffled raschera. The first three are cured meats, the second three are cheeses.

Sharon and I usually share our primi, which the kitchen happily splits between two bowls, without a stupid split plate charge. We shared Sea Urchin Tagliatelle with mizuna, San Marzano sugo and baby parsley. Neither of us had ever had sea urchin.

Sea urchin meat is very delicate, and has the consistency of soft scrambled eggs. It is served in sushi houses raw, but here it was simply stirred into the tomato sauce with the arugula and then folded into the house made tagliatelle. When cooked, sea urchin simply melts apart and infuses the sauce with the taste of the ocean. It was simple and delicious.

Cindy and Diane split a serving of Stracci, ossobuco ragu, sunflower sprouts, Sardinian pecorino. Stracci means "rags". The pasta is simply, sheets of pasta cut into rough, un-uniform ribbons, "rags". The ossobuco ragu was combined with the pasta and garnished with the sprouts. Real Italian comfort food. It looked and smelled addictive.

For her entree, Diane ordered the seared coco-dusted scallops, brussel-sprouts, with citrus glaze. The scallops were huge and there were three on her plate with an equal amount of brussels sprouts. The sauce was some sort of butter citrus glaze. Fantastic. 

Sharon and Cindy copied each other and ordered the same main course. Cortese wine braised pork belly, served with roasted parsnips sauteed with Stracchino cheese and sunflower sprouts. 

My entree was roasted Black Sea bass with olive oil fennel broth, caramelized fennel and arugula. Some people don't eat fish, some people don't eat vegetables. Both varieties of folk suffer from the stupids. If you don't enjoy eating fish, you're cracked. In the hands of a chef who knows how to treat fresh fish, matching it's texture and flavor with complementing ingredients, fresh veggies, silken sauces, mm, mmm, mmm. Simple, elegant, precise. My eyes were closed most of time as I ate that entree.

We did have conversation over dinner, mostly about our food. Mostly we just made noises of pleasure. Each course was perfectly served, perfectly timed. The kitchen didn't begin preparing the next course until the present course's dishes were being removed from the table. The portions allowed for indulgence, but not excess. 

Throughout the meal we drank two bottles of Valpocelli. This particular red is the standard wine we drink when we're at Il Posto.    

Despite ethereal choices, we passed on dessert, but accepted manager Bob's offer to buy a round of after-dinner drinks for the table. It was merlot-cab grappa for me, and a sweet red muscato for the ladies. Bob joined us with a grappa as well and we all clicked glasses at the center of the table.

Sharon and I play a game when we eat out. We watch to see how many people come and go from the tables around us while our own plates stack up, and we compete with each other to see which of us can order the best dish. By the time we'd paid the bill this night, and the hostess brought us our coats, we'd spent three and a half hours over an inspiring, nurturing (both body and soul), slow meal cooked by people who care about the details. As we left the restaurant, I remembered my one complaint about visiting Il Posto, at some point the visit ends.

Have a good weekend, eat real food, John Glenn,

Dave