On July 4, ten years ago, we walked over the Brooklyn Bridge in the sunshine, watched some of the East River fireworks, and had supper at L'Amman, the modest Vietnamese on 3rd Avenue. Summer rolls, dumplings, skewers of vegetables and tofu, some meat dishes.
Speaking of meat, the same week saw Laurent Tourondel's return to the New York restaurant scene with BLT Steak.
It's like a little farmstead dining room just showed up around the corner from the midnight circus chaos of the Bedford Avenue L train. You know, the restaurant inside the farm-house, supplied from the fields outside, offering a no-choice--table d'hôte, we used to say--dinner, at a fair price.
I remember one charming dining room like that in south west France, picking its own vegetables and assassinating its own geese. Of course, you can't quite do that here.
So here's the last item from my Denver file, dinner at Colt & Gray in the Highlands neighborhood, about five minutes walk from My Brother's Bar--yet nothing could be more unlike the divey atmosphere of that place, or the old west vibe of Buckhorn Exchange.
If anything, the ambience of Colt & Gray is what one increasingly expects to find in American cities today. A stripped down modern aesthetic, an avowedly nose-to-tail menu, local ingredients, and of course cocktails.