If you have ever read this blog before then you might be able to feel the cynicism oozing out of this post's title. You may even have some of it on your fingers if you accessed this post through one of those new-fangled touch-sensitive mobile telephone screens. If that was the case, I apologize. If you have spent any time reading just about anything I've written on food in Denver, you would know that I can't stand fanciness or gimmickry. And while I am decidedly neutral on
food pricing, a menu offering a Cuban Sandwich for twelve of your hard-earned dollars is not just over-priced, but chances are something fancy is going on that doesn't need to be.
The Cuban, as I've said at least
six times before, is one of the world's best sandwiches. Pork with pork and just the right amount of toppings all pressed together on a crusty white bread. Therefore, there is no need to doctor it up in any way or change even one component of what makes it great. If one were to do that, then I would only ask that he or she call it something other than a Cuban.
But I digress. It has been a while since my wife and I have been out for a meal alone, and this meal at The Corner Office was a hurried dash-of-a-dining-experience prior to making a show at the nearby Boettcher Concert Hall. There were many other appetizing bites on our menu but there it was, the last item on the menu tucked in the corner under my right thumb: "Pressed Cuban". And a little further over, the number "12".
The price didn't surprise me, as the rent at the Corner Office space can't be cheap, so why should I expect its food to be? No, the price seemed about right for eating a sandwich downtown on a Saturday night. I was a little pessimistic, however, that the Corner Office chef might try and fancy it up in some
unusual and unnecessary way, given that the first section of the menu was called "Dishin It Out" instead of what it was trying to say: "entrees". Another section of the menu was entitled: "Livin' Light" which sounds even too silly for an Applebee's. But the description of the Cuban sounded about right, except for the Dijon Mustard instead of the good ol' bright yellow kind. I decided to go for it.
The first thing that struck me about my Cuban was the size. It was small, but again, I wasn't dining here because I thought my dining dollar would go far. The next thing that struck me was that my Cuban looked, well, alarmingly like a Cuban. It was quite good, even though the bread was slightly too-soft, fluffy and hot-dog-bun like. The roast pork was delectably soft and the pickle concentration was such that every bite allowed a crunchy contrast to the tasty pork. It was a good Cuban, and although small, enough calories to keep me warm on that frigid night and dancing to the sounds of the Colorado Symphony Orchestra (featuring Ozomatli, that is).
This is by no means a ringing endorsement of the Corner Office. The fries were diner-style and definitely not worth the price. My wife's mussels were only so-so due to a under-flavored broth that was supposed to be spicy. Additionally, if you don't have a reservation and eat in the front cocktail area, it helps if you are less than 5 ft tall or have little stumpy legs, as the rolling ottoman seating is barely more than a foot off the ground. Nevertheless, it was a respectable Cuban.
The woman eating next to me ordered a fantastic-looking ramen with an enormous, sexy hunk of fresh chicharron. Given that I was literally 3 inches from her, I could smell the rich broth and was practically drooling into her bowl. That might be enough to get me back into The Corner Office here soon.
Note:
Looks like I missed November entirely as far as posting to this blog, and things might continue to be slow for the next little bit. Thanks again for (a) checking in and reading my blog and (b) making it all the way to the end of the post! Happy new year if I don't get back at this before then.
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