Biker Jim, Pomfreet and the Food Truck Party at the Denver County Fair

What would summer be for a food blogger without posting about a food truck? I'm not talking about the food truck in the traditional sense that serves really good, cheap Mexican fare-- but the new, still-somehow-booming fleet of flashy, mobile super-kitchens that continue to swarm Denver's streets. Just like it's hard to throw a baseball and not hit the side of a barn (though not for Rockies pitchers), it is hard to walk downtown  and not spot a food truck--but just like you don't throw stones in glass houses, don't throw balls near food truck parties as you might crack a screen on an LCD display.

My latest foray with a food truck came at the end of a long day wandering around the Denver County Fair. It wasn't exactly a large gathering of food trucks-- five or six were corralled around the Southeast patio of the National Western Complex-- but it was packed with people like me--hungry after staring at so many delicious-looking chickens and goats and oh-so-glad to not have to eat at one of the Stock Show lunch counters or choke down another giant, dry turkey leg.

"Off the Streets and Into Your Mouth" is of course the tag line and main logo on Biker Jim's upscale version of his original food cart. It is a very literal name (which I enjoy immensely) though it might err on the too-literal side of things. It might be more appealing as "Off the Streets, Cleaned Thoroughly, Cooked and Then Into Your Mouth". Or maybe a different preposition would have cleared things up more: "From" The Streets? "Near" the Streets? I'm not sure why he didn't emblazon a large "Biker Jim" across the front, as that name in itself is synonymous with great Denver street food for anyone who has spent any time in Denver.

In the end it was a Biker Jim sausage through and through, complete with his signature cream cheese and caramelized onion toppings. I had the elk cheddar brat and it was fantastic as always--a true sweet meat. Though I still prefer the original Biker Jim grill on the mall from a simple cart, I suppose if anyone has earned the right to put his feet up and his menu on an LCD display it is him.

Next up was the Pomfreet truck: simple name for simple fare. The truck deals exclusively in fries and sauces to dip them in.

We ordered the freedom fries for the boys, which were the standard fries. I could be wrong but I think freedom fries are what uber-patriots called French fries after France did something in the W-Bush-era global reign of terror that uber-patriots didn't like (I think it was not blindly supporting the unilateral invasion of a Middle Eastern country for no legitimate reason or something like that). Maybe it was a purposeful shot of irony (which goes well with any fried food) to name the truck after the original French (Belgian) name of Pomme Frites, and then the first menu item after good ol' fashioned French-hating Americans.

The fries (I cringe at writing freedom fries--even in parenthesis--though I am going to start calling my sauerkraut liberty cabbage again) were excellent by themselves and outlandishly good with the garlic aioli dip. Our babies love their garlic and their fries--and with their new-found love of adult-sized plastic forks-- they were so happily occupied that the Pomfreet truck would serve well as our new babysitter.

Mom and dad ordered the green chile-smothered "Poutine". The green chile was simply chunks of mild Hatch chiles instead of a green chile sauce, and all the the smothering was done by a not-too-cheesy, creamy cheese sauce. I suppose it should be called a cheese-gravy as that is the only thing that would make it poutine-like instead of just good-old chile-cheese-fries. And there is nothing wrong with that. It was a fantastic and perfect with my sausage. Biker Jim and Pomfreet should always park next to one another.

The last bit of blog-worthy irony of the night was that the last food truck to open its higher-than-thou window to the masses of the County Fair folks was one serving "Caveman Food". Of course cavemen food, or the paleolithic diet, argues that we should eat as our pre-historic hunter and gatherer anscestors did. Gathering and hunting, of course, is much easier these days with a truck and a gun, so I'm not sure exactly what the delay was about, unless all the chopping and prep work was done with stones and spears.

The best part of the truck-eating experience for our family now are the trucks themselves. Our boys love--and I mean love--trucks. Despite a relatively gender-neutral upbringing, they gravitate towards large, motorized vehicles like a moth and its porch light on a dark summer night. Maybe that is the appeal of the food truck. Don't we all (at least many of my male readers) have more toddler in us than we would like to admit?

Food trucks like these are here to stay without a doubt. I just still can't believe that there are still so many and the prices that some of them charge. Despite this cynicism-laced post, I had a good meal that day from Biker Jim and Pomfreet, all for an arguably reasonable price, so maybe the market is taking control of food truck prices at last--or maybe we are all just used to it now. And even though I can't help think about all the "other" food trucks out there full of true and tested street-worthy fare, it is still just fun to sit on a curb-- or in our case the steps of the Stock show grounds-- and chow down.

Denver al Pastor Take 14: Come for the Pastor, Stay for the Carne Asada at Tacos el Sampa

This March and April have been unusually warm, and while that might be some ominous sign of the devastating global climate havoc yet to come, an early and warm spring provides plenty of short-sighted happiness to keep one otherwise distracted from any future apocalyptic scenarios; a longer taco-truck season, for example; and for that who can really complain? Although by no means a taco-truck fair-weather fan, when warm weather comes so does a spike in my outdoor taco consumption (before it levels off to a respectable if-not-heart-healthy rate come summertime). I took the liberty to illustrate my 2012 outdoor-taco-consumption projections graphically:

It also means I can take my babies out taco-hunting without fear of frost bitten toes (though that would be a good story for them to tell their own kids one day). Such that it was that I found myself with my wife and boys under the hot March sun in a mostly empty parking lot on the Southwest corner of Zuni and Evans.

We were here to meet the notorious Mantonat, who came through yet again with another spying of a spit stacked with pork loins dripping with pastor marinade. This pastor was being slung from a food cart called "Tacos el Sampa",

There are not as many things that make me smile as much in my Denver food bubble as finding a new spit of pastor--especially one in the open air--and El Sampa's spit was indeed glorious. Save for the missing pineapple sitting atop its skewer, it would stand proudly among its Mexico City cousins.

Although there was no pineapple to be found roasting on top, there were fresh slices spread on the tacos themselves. The meat, as US hyper-hygiene standards require, was not cooked directly on the spit but rather on the neighboring grill, which I suppose is better than being cooked both places. And because of the obligatory grill-pass the taquero hacked off meat in large careless chunks, not needing to take the care to shave off only the outer cooked layer. But even with the uneven thickness of the meat cuts, it ended up being well-charred and not overcooked.

The flavor of the pastor was a little subtle and might have benefited from a longer soaking, or a more concentrated marinade. The salsas, however, were excellent--both the red and the green had that homemade casera taste--and packed a respectable amount of heat.

While the pastor in itself was worth coming back for, the carne asada was superb. By far the best I've had in recent memory anywhere in Denver. It is so often overcooked and dry, but this grilled and chopped steak was terrifically tender and flavorful.

The Tacos el Sampa folks hail from Puebla, a city known for its Tacos Arabes. There are many, many different ways to cook tacos arabes as I have learned since talking with the Sampa taquero, but as far as I can tell no real consensus save that they should be spit-roasted and served tightly-wrapped in a thin flour tortilla.

When we were questioning the taquero about the tacos arabes at El Sampa, there was quite a bit of confusion in our back-and-forth despite the fact that we both spoke Spanish. It wasn't clear, for example, what kind of meat they were using. He kept saying "carne blanca", or "white meat", which I would then try and clarify by saying, "pork." Thought instead of nodding he just kept saying "carne blanca" and never really verified that it was actually from a pig. Now usually unidentified meat is a "bad sign" and my general rule would be that if the guy making your tacos isn't crystal clear as to what meat he is using then you probably don't want to hang around his taco stand long enough to be the one trying to figure it out.

But seeing as how I'm not that picky (I'm pretty sure I have unknowingly eaten my share of both canine and equine meat in my travels) and I really wanted to try his version of tacos arabes, I went with it. The first thing I did when he handed me my taco was to unfurl it to examine the meat. You would think that when I saw that it was clearly not white I would have returned it, tossed it in the trash or in some other way question my taquero's general competence or lack thereof. But no, my curiosity and consistent knack for making bad decisions was such that I took a big bite.

As I was saying: it was not white, nor was it all that pork-like as far as I could tell. I didn't have the time to examine it all that closely (I was holding an impatient, squirming toddler in one arm), but I concluded that it had the color and consistency of steak and let's leave it at that. It was covered in a dark red-brown sauce that tasted like a sweet barbecue sauce. It was a little peppery and tangy but it was not spicy. It was good. The thin flour tortilla, one of the best parts about the taco arabe, was both crispy and soft. It is like a mini-burrito without all the extraneous lettuce, rice and other fillers. It is all meat. What meat exactly remains to be discovered, but meat it was.

I jest of course and in no way mean to imply that Tacos el Sampa is serving anything other than USDA-inspected meat from a commonly consumed farm animal. I'm sure that there was just some confusion on my part (there still is), and please don't let my sarcasm deter you from sampling any and everything on the El Sampa menu. That being said, if anyone else wants to weigh in on the "what's that meat" debate please leave a comment or send me an email. And even if I made the taco arabe unappealing (though I'll restate for the record: I liked it a lot) the carne asada and pastor are ready for you to join them for some spring and summer outdoor taco fun.

Taco el Sampa is located on the corner of Evans and Zuni in Denver, CO. 

La Casita Food Cart in the Winter: Art and Tacos

Nothing goes better before, during or after art-viewing than shredded, slow-cooked pork served on warm hand-made corn tortillas. Or in more general terms: pork tacos make everything in life better. Either way, my wife and I were pleased to see a small food cart parked on the corner of 12th and Acoma outside the Denver Art Museum a few weeks ago on a Sunday.

The cart was actually a trailer called "La Casita". Not associated with the famous Denver Tamales By La Casita empire, this La Casista was rather a humble portable food stand manned by a single cook. The menu was simple: tacos, burritos, tortas and a spattering of other typical taco-truck fare.

It was just getting set up when we got to the museum, so unfortunately we didn't actually get to enjoy art and tacos exactly at the same time (nor would the museum likely approve of such indulgences). It was on the way out that we stopped and ordered: pork tacos and smothered steak burrito.

It was a little cold out and our babies were not happy in the wind, so we headed to our car parked nearby to eat. We put the babies in their seats, shoved bottles in their respective mouths and dug in.

Our babies, busy sucking away on their milk and gazing out the windows had no idea what they were missing. Each taco in our order of two came con copia, or with two tortillas, and enough lovely pulled pork so that we easily made four tacos. As I said, the pork was indeed lovely: simple and slow-cooked, tender and flavorful. And the tortillas seemed hand-made and fresh. They were very good tacos. I was impressed.

The burrito was next. It came all smothered in green chile on a thin paper plate. Needless to say, it was challenging to eat in the car with a single plastic fork, but somehow we managed like we always do. The green chile was good, not particularly meaty or spicy, but with a nice flavor. The shredded beef was a little chewy, and the rest of the fillings (rice, beans, cheese, etc) standard. It was an average smothered burrito. There are many, many other worse things than that.

There aren't many great options around the museum unless you like salad, but it is hard to fuel up sufficiently for a museum day on rabbit food, so it is nice to see a portable option serving up above average tacos and a decent smothered burrito.

Thinking back a year or two, I did once have some portable food from the Deluxe truck outside the museum, but we all know how that went, so hopefully La Casita will continue the art+food+wheels tradition and more will follow. Our kids love the art museum--which means we love it even more now--so I doubt that will be my last meal at La Casita food cart.

Note: I have been back to the museum twice since this post on the weekend and have yet to see La Casita again. If you really want to find them, they make the farmer's market rounds in the summer and can be found on the world wide web: http://lacasita1.blogspot.com/

Chicago Louie's of Denver: A Sausage by Any Other Name Would Smell Much Sweeter

As my last post describes in detail, a few weeks back I found myself amidst the crowd and chaos of the First Friday Santa Fe Art Walk. And although there was surely plenty of art to be seen, my family and I were perfectly content to simply stroll and take in this rare and refreshing slice of true Denver urbanity. Oh, and we wanted to eat some tacos. But we didn't stop at tacos that night. No, we ventured on another half-block from what was a divine taco haven and came face to face with this:

Now as you may know if you have read this blog before, I hail from the city of Big Shoulders. Generally speaking things that have the word "Chicago" in them grab my attention immediately, although I realize by no means does using the name of my native city imply any sort of guarantee of quality. Take for example the band of the same name and a local chain of restaurants that are not really "old" and try way too hard to be "Chicago-y". 

Now that is what I call "Old Chicago"

Nevertheless I zeroed in on Chicago Louie's less for the name and more because I had heard good things about it and its sausages. Of course having a food truck with a Chicago theme that is then nick-named the "Paddy Wagon" and has a gangster-looking type as the logo is a lot like opening a Mexican restaurant and throwing up a sign with the image of a sombrero-and-serape-clad paisano with a mustache napping under a cactus. In fact this astute Westword reader reminds us that "Paddy Wagon" may have been coined because the vehicle was often used to round up drunks in the Irish part of town (by the stereotypical Irish cops). (Of course it could be a pun on sausage "patty", but that would be much, much worse.)

Once you get past the cheesy and borderline offensive logo and marketing pitch of Louie's there is the menu. It is possible that in order to revive the long-buried Italian and Irish-American stereotypes and tensions that Chicago has always been known for, the folks behind Chicago Louie's decided to balance the jabs at alcoholic Irishmen by naming their sandwiches after infamous Italian-American mobsters. And not only does it raise the level of cheesiness, it makes it freaking annoying to read the menu. Have you ever longed for a "Salvatore 'Lucky' Luciano"? Of course you haven't-- unless you wanted to get beat repeatedly over the head with a bat or wanted to be extorted in some way. The "Lucky" is actually a grilled bone-in pork chop with sweet onions, peppers and yellow mustard. Now that sounds rather appetizing. 

As is well established, I am not one for fancy naming. But while I cringed at the menu, I also became intrigued, as lost behind the horrible name choices is some great looking food that features several Denver-made Il Mondo Vecchio sausages. Yum.

In the end I settled for the Italian beef. Actually it wasn't a hard decision once I deciphered that ordering a sandwich named after the convicted murderer, Paul Ricca, actually referred to a Chicago-style Italian beef, one of my absolute favorite sandwiches.

The beef at Chicago Louie's was very good, and though few of you reading this likely care, you might now that I have been combing Denver for a good Italian beef off and on for the last year. This one came out a little dry but when I sent it back for more "beef juice" there was no hesitation as they happily poured on a generous ladle-full, properly sopping the bread to point of just-about-falling-apart. The beef was tender and the excellent giardiniera was spicy and tasted house-made. It was a beef worthy of the Chicago name on the side of the truck.

My wife, apparently full from the four tacos she ate just moments earlier ordered just one slider made from Chorizo sausage and topped with green chiles and refried beans. It was packed full of bold flavor and it was delicious. Too bad it was named after the Mexican drug lord Felix Gallardo. As I write this thousands of innocent people are being victimized by senseless drug violence across our southern borders and Chicago Louie's decides it's a good idea to honor the "Godfather" of Mexican drug lords with a sandwich? And where does that fit with the whole Chicago-stereotyping theme?

As far as I can tell from what I sampled Chicago Louie's seems to be making some great food. And just like the ridiculous naming doesn't add anything to the experience for me, it probably won't keep me away either, as good beef and sausage are things that transcend gimmicks and foolish marketing pitches. Somewhere on that truck are written the words: "Gourmet Sausage Truck". Now that is something all Chicagoans (and Denverites more importantly) can get behind, from the criminals purported on Louie's menu to the saps like me that just love good food. And good food is good food, so when the Gourmet Sausage Truck also known as Chicago Louie's is parked on a street near you, do yourself a favor and get over there. 

Venezuelan Arepas at El Caribe

With the cool air of fall blowing through and only one short month of market season left for Denver, I thought I would re-visit the "farmer's" market scene one more time this year. As you may have also noticed, many of these so-called farmer's markets have been overrun with food vendors over the years. In spite of this the Sunday East High School market has managed to keep quite a few actual farmers around. That being said, I wanted to mention not so much the great organic fruit I buy weekly from Elea Farms, but rather the phenomenal Venezuelan food I get around the corner.

Apparently in Denver good Venezuelan food is only to be found in the most unexpected of places. Actually, it is only found in two places that I know of: Golden and at the Cherry Creek and East High/ City Park Farmer's Market. I am of course referring to one of the greatest little food stands around: El Caribe.

El Caribe serves Venezuelan-style arepas and nothing more. On Sunday they can be found on the East side of the half-circle East High market right across the street from Tattered Cover on Colfax (and under the blinding orange sheen of the Deluxe truck which I'm glad to see has found yet another place to park).

There are several options of handmade mostly organic (and all gluten-free) arepas to be had at El Caribe, but I always go with the classic: El Pabellon. Filled with shredded beef, beans, plantain and cheese--and squirted with a generous dose of their homemade guasacaca sauce--it is a sweet and savory, hearty and moist sandwich. It is a great Sunday morning breakfast, though really I would eat this all day if I had that kind of access.

Igor and Beckie make some mean arepas and are apparently planning a food truck (of course they are). And while the Denver food truck scene has been glamorized by so many established restaurants getting in the game, it will be good to see some more street-tested veterans that have paid their dues cooking on camp stoves out in the elements get some wheels. Hopefully we'll be seeing more and more of El Caribe in the months and years to come.

Follow them on their blog to watch the food truck evolve. Visit them on their website. Check them out on UrbanSpoon.

Denver's Mostly Mobile Deluxe Food Truck

Prior to tonight, I have only seen the brand-spanking new Deluxe food truck outside of Deluxe burgers on East Colfax or on South Broadway in front of the Deluxe headquarters. Although I understand that it must be difficult to get the correct permits for street food vending (actually I have no understanding of this), it does seem immensely ironic (or comically counterproductive) to park your own food truck in front of your own restaurant.

This night, however, the Deluxe Truck was un-paradoxically parked on the pedestrian walkway on the Southeast corner of the Denver Art Museum for an outside version of Denver's 10th Pecha Kucha night. If you don't know what Pecha Kucha is, I will briefly try and explain. It's a night where a bunch or geeky-types like myself gather to watch designer-types, entertainer-types-- and just about anyone-- put on a slide show presentation of 20 slides that each move forward automatically after 20 seconds. Doesn't sound fun? Well, you might have liked this one anyway, because you could have eaten at the Deluxe food truck without feeling weird that you were eating at the truck of the restaurant that you were outside of--and could have just gone inside and enjoyed a meal sitting at a table instead.

In the ongoing debate about the food pricing from the now numerous food trucks that have hit Denver in the 2010 Summer Food Truck Boom, there is little question as to where Deluxe stands. Likely you won't walk up to this shiny and attractive deluxe orange-rocket-of-a-food-truck thinking about getting a bargain meal. But I think the prices are relatively fair. Where else could I have ordered a $5 ceviche before watching slides projected on the side of the Denver Art Museum?

The answer of course is nowhere but the Deluxe Truck. And the ceviche was pretty damn good. It was made with tilapia, served in a crispy shell and topped with cilantro and pickled red onions. It was fresh and in my humble yet opinionated opinion (IMHyoO), very much worth five bucks.

I also ordered the lamb sandwich that I was told would take seven or eight minutes to prepare. It seems like another growing trend in the Denver food-truck world is waiting. Now waiting is OK at restaurants, what with the modern comforts of chairs, tables, napkins, ice water, beer, TV-- well, you get the idea. Seven or eight minutes of thumb-twiddling standing outside is borderline "not-fun", and anything more is pushing it, because as I mentioned in a prior post, street food doesn't have to mean cheap, but I think it is fair that it means fast.

The waiting game at Deluxe is... acceptable

What came out was essentially a kafta kabob. Excuse the picture, but throw a kafta kabob  into a crowded public pool and in less than 30 seconds you will have it to yourself. That should never be a deterrent, however, because we are talking about a most delectable log of ground lamb and spices. This particular log-- though well-seasoned and with a nice flavor, was a little dry. The pita looked good and was homemade, but it too, suffered from dryness. The cilantro was lost in the midst of the intensely garlic-laden tzatziki sauce. However, the latter was very good, and made up for the lack of moist-ness in the bread and meat. All in all it was a decent kafta kabob, or "Grilled Lamb Flatbread Sandwich" if you prefer (which you do prefer if you are the Deluxe menu-writer). And for six bucks, I would say not a bad deal.

I probably should have gotten the truffle-oil fries, but these were very good home-cut fries seasoned with garlic and fresh thyme. They cost me $2.50. People should stop complaining about prices.

I also got a freshly squeezed lemonade that had been steeping in freshly ground mint leaves. It was delicious and refreshing. I had a great meal under the stars and night lights of downtown Denver, that I could not have otherwise had if it weren't for the four-wheeled orange wonder that is the Deluxe rocket food truck.

I personally am over the fact that the food in some of these trucks is a little expensive, and while I think there are certainly some trucks that are worth it, there are most certainly bound to be those that aren't. Each of us will make up his or her mind by making the choice to patronize these food-mobiles or not, and when the dust settles on Denver's summer-of-the-food-truck boom, we will see who is left standing.

 Follow Deluxe around town here: http://twitter.com/deluxe_st_food

I Want to Go to School on the Denver Biscuit Bus

I've never craved biscuits much. I do like them, just never have I had an insatiable pining for them. Not enough, anyway, to think I would care one way or another if they were portable or not, available on the street, piping hot, flaky, buttery, smothered in jam or gravy. I've been at restaurants plenty of times, saw a biscuit dish on the menu and ordered it, but never did I have any preconceived plans about doing so. I've never woken up with the burning desire to go eat a biscuit and been disappointed that there wasn't one on the corner down the street from my house. No, I've never yearned for biscuits much, until now.

The Denver Biscuit Company-- housed in a bar on East Colfax that I am far too un-hip and old to go in -- filled a need I never realized was there by taking their show on the road as part of the Denver Food Truck Boom of 2010. To get technical, they call their truck a bus. The bus currently parks at the Cherry Creek markets on Wednesday and Friday, and the Stapleton farmer's market on Sunday.

The biscuits are delicious and I would argue, a relatively good value-- the latter which seems to be a hot topic these days amongst those that care to argue about such things. Let us, however, return to the biscuits themselves, which are in fact, a little bit addicting: flaky, warm (though somehow still satisfying on a 90-degree summer day), buttery. So addicting, in fact, that I don't mind the 15-20 minute wait that I have had every time I've eaten there. Nor do I mind the attitude I once witnessed: "They're FRESH BAKED! It takes TIME," snapped the cash-register-guy once at a customer wondering where his street-food biscuit was. To be fair, everyone is allowed a little temper every once in a while, and it must suck being stuck for hours on end in a metal box with the blazing hot Colorado sun in your face and 400-degree ovens on your back; though maybe it is the elevated position of the truck counter itself that gives one an elevated sense-of-self. Seriously though, they are generally quite nice and all smiles on The Biscuit Bus. Oh, and those biscuits are absolutely wonderful.

To know a biscuit, it is important to try it not-all-smothered-in-gravy or mixed up with whatever creative pleasure suit your fancy, but rather in its naked state-- and with a little jelly. Here is the Denver Biscuit Company's mobile biscuit with its very good raspberry jam.

And with apple butter. Also homemade. $2 for the biscuit, $0.75 for the jam.

Next, we add another layer of complexity: bacon. This, it may come as no surprise, is my favorite biscuit that I have tried from the Bus. A plethora of peppery, thick-sliced bacon smothered in grape jelly and sandwiched between two flaky, hearty and buttery biscuit halves. And for $5.50? There is $5 worth of bacon on it.

The biscuit and gravy is the obvious next choice. The white sausage gravy (vegetarian also available, but why bother?) is a wee-bit spicy, rich and heavy. Again, somehow I didn't mind eating it under the searing summer sun on the shade-less pavement of the Cherry Creek farmer's market-- probably because it was so good. At $6 it is a value I think, but if you're a cheapskate (I can totally respect that) you can also get a plain $2 biscuit and a "side" of gravy for $2, which still is a worthy breakfast for most people. The full meal puts the hurt on a little if you eat it in less than 90 seconds as I did, but it is a very, very good biscuit and gravy.

Although I too have cringed at the prices of some of these new food trucks, I think on the Biscuit Bus they are not unfair. And while price is one thing, I would argue that street-food does imply a certain amount of speed to be categorized as such, so let's hope the Biscuit Bus can figure out the timing, or get another oven in there. Until then go get your iced coffee or try and find some actual farm-fresh produce at the "farmer's" market you are attending, because you will wait-- but it will be worth your while.