Taste of the Nation Denver: Sunday, July 18th

It is well documented in my blog gibberish that I am a gluttonous pig of an eater, all too often stuffing my face with much more than necessary. And while to some that may make me come across as the typical spoiled American consumer, I do realize that I am very fortunate to have the resources to take advantage of the great abundance of food our country has to offer. 

This, of course, is not the case for everyone. In fact the good people at Taste of the Nation Denver, who are sponsoring a fantastic event this weekend to benefit local organizations battling to end hunger in Colorado, shared with me these alarming statistics:

• An estimated that 37 million Americans, including 14 million children, are at risk for hunger 
• 200,000 children in Colorado live in poverty and at risk of experiencing hunger
• The number of children living in poverty is growing faster in Colorado faster than in any other state in the nation with a 85% increase since 2000
• One in seven Colorado children are hungry or at risk for hunger

I imagine that many of you reading this, while hopefully not as much of an over-eater as I am, are equally as fortunate in that you can go to grocery store at will and buy food, or go out to eat a couple times a week without worrying about bouncing rent checks. You might then consider then this weekend's Taste of the Nation event where 100% of the proceeds will be benefiting Operation Front Line and the Campaign to End Childhood Hunger. 


The event will be held at Mile High Station from 5:00-8:00 p.m. and will feature food from many of my favorite restaurants including Table 6, Jax, Duo, TAG, Jonesy's and many, many more. There will also be Colorado spirits, wine and beer all for the modest entry fee of $75. To get your tickets, click here now. If you enter this handy code: TONCOM10, you should even get $10 off.

If you can't attend, then you can still help out by offering to volunteer in the future. Operation Front Line, if you don't know already, is an inspiring concept and I encourage you to learn more about it. Its principle mission is to educate families about cooking with and shopping for nutritious foods on a limited budget. They do this with an amazing network of volunteers ranging from professional chefs and nutritionists to culinary laypeople (like my wife and me) that can play a variety of crucial roles. Do consider donating your time or money to this worthy cause that just last year held 124 courses impacting 1,526 Colorado families. 

Hope you can make it. 

Sunday July 18th

Mile High Station

5:00-8:00pm

http://www.denvertaste.org/

I Also Like Tambien in Cherry Creek

I used to love to go to Cherry Creek, wander the green-carpeted book-filled halls of Tattered Cover, satiate my gluttonous appetite with a huge prawn burrito covered in homemade salsa from Chez Jose and amble down to my favorite sign-less basement bar (and one of my favorite bars ever), The RooBar. I can't count how many times I did all those things in that exact order. Now to do all that I need to start on East Colfax, drive down University (through Cherry Creek) to Centennial and then get back in my car to finish off the night with a traffic-filled drive to the wasteland where Park turns into 38th around I-25.

Cherry Creek, over the last five years or so has slowly become void of economically and culturally diverse options, driving out the budget-seeking regular guy in favor of the middle-age BMW-type with a penchant for tying sweaters loosely around his neck.

There are, of course, exceptions. I recently wrote about Ondo's Tapas which brings authentic Spanish cooking to the Creek without any Lexus-only parking. Also good to see still surviving (and growing) is the Cherry Cricket. More recently is the arrival of Pinche Tacos at the farmer's market, but that will be gone again in October. And then there is Tambien.

Likely there is a zoning ordinance in Cherry Creek that two Mexican-themed restaurants cannot operate within any two or three block radius of each other. And did you ever wonder why the Mexican embassy moved out? But in all seriousness, it is probably Tambien's more extensive menu, bigger bar and more clever kitsch decorating that brings them enough revenue to pay the Creek's high-priced rents that drove out Chez Jose. And with all of my skepticism and yuppie-angst aside, Tambien really is smartly decorated, friendly and inviting.

I have avoided going to Tambien for the last few years primarily because of my anti-Creek-ness following the closing of the Tattered Cover and the RooBar. But after Ondo's lured me back and Chez Jose closed, I wanted to see what this DINR member restaurant had to offer (plus I had my wife's handy DINR coupons). My biggest concern going into Tambien is that they would Cherry-Creek the Mexican right out of the food.

The first thing I tried stood up and slapped me in my face with Mexican flavor, although with an appropriate and satisfying twist. It was the Ahi Tuna ceviche, marinated in lime--but I think also some lemon, which took that acrid bite out of the traditional Mexican ceviche (which I like as well), making it sweeter and smoother from first bite to finish. It was still made with the typical Pico de Gallo salsa, and my only complaint is that there was not a lot of fish mixed in. I also liked that they served it with tortilla chips (that tasted homemade) instead of the Mexican tradition of two-per-package Saltine crackers.

Also the Shrimp Cocktail, which was served with the two-packs of Saltines and was quite good itself. The giant shrimp were well cooked and the traditional tomato-based cocktail sauce with big chunks of fresh avocado was so authentic it immediately evoked images in my head of sitting on a beach bar on a semi-desolated beach in Mexico.

Another thing that brought me back to lazing around in a hammock in that same beach town was sipping on my michelada. A michelada, if you don't know, is a beer mixed with lime juice and served over ice with a drizzling of salt. I love beer. I really do. And I know some beer enthusiasts will cringe at the thought of beer over ice, or beer with a cup of lime juice in it-- or any alteration of this beloved beverage, but the reality of it is that beer cocktails are very underrated and the michelada is the king (or the queen) of beer cocktails. I've always loved Tambien's sister restaurant, Mezcal, because they serve a great michelada (and the michelada cubana-- essentially a beer Bloody Mary) and I'm glad to see that Tambien does them as well.

With another Tecate came my red mole. The sauce itself was very good, not the richest and most complex of moles, but with a nice flavor and depth nonetheless. Served over two big chicken thighs and legs and topped off with sesame seeds, it was a lovely presentation as well. The chicken was horribly dry and tough on one of my thighs (guessing that it had been re-heated more than once) but besides that it was a solid mole, which is something not so easy to find in Denver.

For brunch once I got the chilaquiles. Chilaquiles is a great-- maybe one of the perfect-- brunch items and storied hangover cures. Traditionally this is a dish made from fried tortillas soaked in chile sauce and covered in onion, sour cream, egg and/or chicken. The Tambien version is non-traditional for two reasons: scrambled eggs and heat.

Although my eggs were perfectly scrambled (seriously some of the better scrambled eggs I have had in a long time), and I devoured my entire generously portioned plate, Chilaquiles should come with over-easy fried eggs. Part of the hangover (crudo) curing properties are in the egg-yolk goop, while the other part comes from the spiciness. These chilaquiles were definitely made for the mild-mannered, non-crudo'd Cherry Creek regulars, and while I understand that not everyone likes heat, these were so spice-less they were sweet. Luckily I was not hungover and luckily they brought me this huge array of hot sauces that I poured liberally over my plate.

The fish tacos at Tambien could be their signature dish and could quickly become a favorite of mine. Grilled tilapia with pickled onions and a delicious mayo-chipotle-type sauce over what looked and tasted like homemade corn tortillas.

Tambien has an extensive menu and these trips of mine were just a small sampling of what they have to offer. There seems to be a nice mix of authentic dishes and creative interpretations. Everything I ate was good, except the chilaquiles, and all of it was universally mild in spice. The latter point is a little annoying to me, but I understand that spice likely doesn't survive long in Cherry Creek, and while the diverse hot sauce rack does a little to make up for it, how hard would it be to offer spicy and mild options on some dishes? (Not hard, if you're really wondering.) Nevertheless, Tambien is a great place to enjoy some good food and drink and I will be back.

One thing I have noticed in Cherry Creek is the high amount of prime store-front space now abandoned. Hopefully this will bring prices down and some diversity will return. Until then, there is the diverse subterranean space occupied by Ondo's, and its neighbor Tambien.

Lao Wang Noodle House: A Taste of Taiwan in Denver

Lao Wang's is known in Denver for its Xiao Long Bao, or soup dumpling. And according to my friend Carlos, it has the best Taiwanese food around. Actually, just to clarify, the Wang family's restaurant on South Federal is likely Denver's lone destination for Taiwanese fare, but unless you are in Taiwan-- or California-- my friend Carlos assures me, it's as good as it gets.

"It's lighter than what Americans know as Chinese food," he tells me while we are preparing to order. "There are lots of steamed items with simple ingredients, and not a lot of grease." My friend Carlos knows a lot about Taiwanese food. And while none of us like to judge a book by its cover (or a Spanish name for its lack of Taiwanese-ness), at this point I know what you're thinking: "What the hell does this guy Carlos know about Chinese food?"

Carlos is another fine example of what it means to be American, that is, like many of my other friends, he embodies an intriguing mix of cultures unique to these great United States. After all, Carlos is a perfectly logical name for a boy of Taiwanese descent born in New Mexico and raised in Texas. He grew up speaking both English and Mandarin and now can converse freely in either. He readily identifies with his Texas roots (where even the Asians are bigger) and proudly honors his Taiwanese ancestry.

Now far away and years removed from his home-cooked Taiwanese meals in Texas, Carlos goes to Grandma Wang's (a loose translation) Noodle House when he craves the food of his homeland. In fact, he really has become like an adopted son to "Wang Ma Ma" and "Wang Ba Ba" as he calls his surrogate restaurant-proprietor parents, an adorable older couple who together tirelessly (though not always quickly) work the dining room and kitchen by themselves.

When my wife and I met him there a couple weeks ago he was placing silverware on our corner table. He greeted us as he went back to the counter for a couple napkins. "Setting the table," he told us, and looking up he added, "It speeds things up a little."

The restaurant is utilitarian and sparsely decorated with some random haphazardly framed pictures in one corner and the menu in Chinese characters on the two long walls. But what it lacks in design it makes up for in comfort and warmth, starting with the warm and welcoming Grandma and Grandpa Wang (and the steam emanating from the kitchen that neutralizes any effort made by the ironic swamp cooler). While we were discussing options, they came over frequently to catch up with Carlos and also to scold him for being away for so long.

"No pig's feet," he told us after one of their Mandarin-bantering stops at our table. My wife frowned (she loves pig feet like I love pastor) and Carlos explained that they used to make a mean pig's feet dish but not enough people ordered it so they don't even stock it anymore (so is the life of pig's feet in the US, the same thing happened here). But of course what they did have plenty of what most people come here to have: Xiao Long Bao, or soup dumplings.

Don't take this the wrong way, but Xiao Long Bao are lovely little balls of delight. Pork (in this case) is wrapped up in the bun with a bit of meat gelatin. When the dumplings are steamed, the gelatin liquefies and becomes soup. A poke of the chopstick releases the soup filling in the spoon, and as it cools it can be eaten whole in one satisfying slurp. A really good Xiao Long Bao sags with the weight of its own soup filling when picked up out of the steamer. Like this one:

This was my favorite dish of the night and with reason: A great mix of comforting flavor and texture. I can see why my friend would miss this food so much-- and then come here to get it.

And everything else we had that night was fantastic as well. A close second and possible tie were the simple, yet equally comforting cold sesame noodles. Thick rice noodles tossed (I think) in a sesame paste with soy sauce, chile oil and vinegar and topped with shredded carrot and radish.

Also up was beef noodle soup. A thin but well-flavored five-spice broth with tender and fatty slices of beef topped off with bok choy, which rounded out the flavors nicely.

Simple steamed shrimp dumplings followed, and while very good, I much preferred the soup dumplings. The wrapper was a little too thick. It seemed to be the same wrapper as the Xiao Long Bao-- which might need a thicker skin to hold the soup in-- and in the standard dumpling was a little too much. Don't get me wrong, they were really good and I ate more than my share, but if you had to pick, go with the soup dumplings.

The last item we ordered were the potstickers. Grandma Wang seemed like she really wanted us--expected us-- to order them. After all they are advertised on the menu as "Denver's best," and possibly, "...the best in the country!" Carlos played along, but did emphasize that potstickers are nothing more than leftover dumplings--the pan-frying just a convenient way to re-heat them the next day. Carlos is right, in that potstickers are way overdone in this country (we love us some fried stuff) and I can see how it would be a little annoying to hear people praise your country's leftover dish without paying proper respects and having appreciation for the original version. Nevertheless, my wife, Carlos and I love fried stuff as well, and these postickers were crispy-fried and delicious. Look at the crisp. Look at it!

Properly satiated, we kicked back in our chairs, started chatting and asked for the bill. It didn't exactly come with any quickness, so Carlos disappeared for a while and returned with the check. Then, seeing that Wang Ma Ma was busy with the other table eating there at this time and Wang Ba Ba was in the back cooking, Carlos continued his duties as surrogate son by stepping behind the counter and running our credit cards. Mrs. Wang came over and instead of taking over, gave Carlos a loving smack on the head and a smile. As we were leaving she scolded him one more time in Mandarin. He translated: "She says if I don't come back soon I'll get a spanking."

A Bad Frito Pie in Salida

Often I make sweeping statements of a general nature with little evidence to back it up. It is my nature. For example, once I wrote something to the effect of having to go south of Salida, CO to find the best Frito Pies in our great state. Now, I've been to Salida a lot, and actually lived there for a while, but when I wrote that, I'd never had a a Frito Pie there.

Given that many of you may have chosen to skip the post where I obsess in great detail about the best Frito pie I have ever eaten, the title of this post may have been poorly worded. Nevertheless, I feel the need to share: Last weekend, in Salida, Colorado I had my first ever bad Frito Pie.

The view, however, was good from our room

Mama D's is exactly the kind of place that one would expect to get a good Frito pie in any Southern Colorado town: a small hot-dog and hamburger stand. The problem is, Salida isn't really a Southern Colorado town and this place actually touted a Chicago-style menu, which may have otherwise tempted me, but after I saw the Frito Pie on the menu, I knew it was time to test my Frito Pie theory.

Without further delay, here is a picture of the worst Frito Pie I have ever eaten:

No lettuce, no tomatoes, big unwieldy chunks of red onion (instead of little white ones) and barely enough chile to cover the top layer of Fritos. The chile was actually decent, and I can see it being OK on a juicy hot dog, but these people have no business making a Frito Pie like this. If your distaste for the Frito pie came from an experience like this, then I can fully understand your disinterest in my obsession.

Given that there is not a big Chicano population in or around Salida, it is no wonder that the only other Mexican-looking person in the place (besides my wife) had a confused look on his face, clearly avoiding eye-contact with the authorities by looking at his coffee cup:

This outdated and bigoted painting of those lurking somewhere South of Salida is likely a symbol of how much this place gets New Mexican food. To be fair they advertise Chicago-style food, and if they are really from Chicago, it would be perfectly understandable that they would not know a Frito pie from the chile-covered chips that they served me.

Downtown Salida, Colorado is full of good restaurants, and not too long from now I will be posting on a couple places where I had fantastic meals, including a divine Mexican-influenced dish that I can't wait to share. Stay tuned and happy Independence Day.

Beat the Heat Filipino Style: Halo-Halo in Aurora at Sunburst Grill

Being a half-Filipino myself, I admittedly know less than I should about Filipino food. But while my non-Filipino mom raised me on pot roast and potatoes, I have made the journey back to my father's homeland more than once, and all my childhood and adolescent holidays were spent stuffing my little face with homemade Filipino delights, so I do possess at least more than default authority on the cuisine. And in Denver, where I rarely get anything at all like a home-cooked Filipino meal, I have to travel to Aurora.

For many Denver-ites, travelling to the far corners of Aurora for Filipino food may seem akin to making the journey to the Motherland itself: a long arduous journey to the far Southeast into unfamiliar regions full of new cultures and experiences. I do admit that I myself used to be overcome by indolence at the thought of driving anywhere East of I-225 or South of Parker Rd, but Aurora's many ethnic gems remind me again and again that it is a very worthwhile trip to make.

With the Tropical Grill back to a catering-only business and the closing of Manila to Go, Sunburst Grill is now the sole surviving Filipino restaurant in the Denver metro area. It is now going on two years, so it is a little shameful that I have just now made it out to visit them, though it is a good sign for them to survive for that long in such a far-away and isolated location.

There is a lot on the menu at Sunburst, and I plan to return, but I wanted to share at least one classic and wonderful Filipino dish that they do incredibly well here: Halo-Halo. Halo-Halo (pronounced "hollow-hollow") is an amazing dessert concoction that I first tasted down the street from where my dad grew up in Manila.

In the stifling heat and stagnant, sticky air of Manila's crowded streets, Halo-Halo is a refreshing douse of myriad flavors served over a welcome chunk of ice. Over that ice is poured condensed or evaporated milk and then the rest is up to the creativity of its creator. At Sunburst there were no less than eleven different toppings on my Halo-Halo, and presented in a bowl (versus a tall soda glass which is also common), it made for a dazzling and enticing array of color and texture.

The first place the eye is drawn is to the ube ice cream on top. Ube is pretty much a purple yam. It is sweet, earthy and has to be one of my favorite ice cream flavors. Also in the mix was an ube paste and next to that going clockwise were slices of fresh mango. Above that were caramelized bananas then a sticky rice that I think was coconut flavored. At the top of our halo-halo clock were firm red chunks of gelatin, followed by softer yet bigger chunks of green-tinted gelatin. Excellent bites of flan followed, then two types of beans: sweet red beans, and plainer white ones. Even more gelatin cubes followed, though this time they were clear, small and soft.

Halo-halo is fun to eat. The best bet is to mix it up with the cold milk underneath and explore the seemingly infinite flavor combinations. And it is not only the flavors, but the interesting textures of the gummy gelatin, the chewy beans and the crunch of the fresh mango. All these textural varieties, along with having beans as part of dessert, will seem strange to the typical American palate, but I think that even the plainest of palates would enjoy digging into a halo-halo on a hot summer day.

We ate a full meal at Sunburst, but I want to go back and try more before completing my review. I will say that what I had was all quite good. I will also say that like any good Filipino kitchen they had a giant wooden fork and spoon hanging on the wall. And to further verify their authenticity, your flatware selection includes a fork and two spoons, as Filipinos are notorious for being able to eat anything with fork and spoon alone. All of these are good signs, of course, but the menu is extensive and I'm going to need some time (and gas money) to work my way through even part of it.