The case of the missing bison

Red Mountain Grill, I dedicate last night's coffee-cocoa dusted bison tenderloin dish to your sitcom-esque incompetence!  Don't get me wrong- the rich, slow heat of their red curry coconut mussel broth is my most favorite apres-ski pick-me-up, one I've never quite been able to copycat in my own kitchen (much to my dismay).

During our last visit, however, Jason was excited to see a bison tenderloin special with wild boar (!) sausage on the menu and was quick to order it.  As our food was delivered, Jason's arrived not only sans intriguing boar sausage, but also clearly a cut of meat that was neither bison nor tenderloin.  Never one to complain, Jason laughed it off and cut off a hunk of the meat and was bringing it to his mouth when, mid bite, the waiter lunges at our table and swipes the plate out from under his hovering fork!  "Wrong plate!" the waiter shouted en route to the kitchen.

A few moments later he returns flourishing a new plate.  A new plate, that is now the second wrong delivery of the evening!  Moral of the story, Jason never got his bison.  So inspired, I grabbed a couple of petite buffalo tenderloins from Whole Foods (home to the best, most high quality meat selection EVER) and scurried home to fill the bison void in my husband's life.

I've always wanted to try some sort of coffee-rubbed meat preparation, so I googled around and found a simple but flavor-packed home recipe using unsweetened cocoa and coffee, paired with a pomegranate reduction.  Combining Jason's grocery list request for asparagus and my insatiable passion for starches, roasted asparagus and brown rice pilaf joined the party.  Yummy!

Successes:

• Thanks to my beloved new cast iron skillet, I was able to achieve a serious sear for about the first time ever
• Brown rice = nutty, toothy goodness, the chopped dried tart cherries echoed the pomegranate reduction
• I actually ate the asparagus.  And it was...good!
• My ridiculous decorative rice towers!  As I waited 'just a few more minutes' for Jason to finish what he was working on, i scoured my kitchen for some kind of mold to use for the rice....not much luck.  Settled on a shot glass!
  

Failures:

• For the life of me I have never, ever been able to 'reduce by half.'  Be it wine, broth, juice - doesn't matter.  If you tell me it will be lusciously thick and syrupy after 20 - 30 minutes on my stove, let me assure you.  It will not be.  More time, maybe?  More heat?  Maybe I can blame the altitude.  Delicious flavor, but epic reduction fail.
  
• Related: pomegranate 'reduction' decorative plating drips...pooled around everything in a serious episode of drop containment failure.
  

Engaging eats at TAG

I came for the pop rocks.

Braving the vibrant, hip crowds of Larimer Square on a Saturday night, I approached relative newcomer TAG with thoughtful anticipation. A pop rock accented dish – genius or gimmick? With a menu of self-proclaimed “continental social food,” the skeptic in me pondered why the apparently more pedestrian “tapas” description wouldn’t suffice…pretentious eats are not fun, and I was dubious.

The lure of the crackling accoutrements was too much, though – through the doors and into the warmly lit, narrow space we went. After much back and forth, my companions and I quickly realized we had narrowed our first round to nearly every dish on the starter menu. Our laid back waiter laughed and shrugged this off as commonplace.

Thirsty in the meanwhile, we cracked open the wine list and sifted through the weighty tome. Offput by the overwhelming, expensive, and cheekily self-aware wine list, we turned to the bar made famous by celebrated bar magician Mike Henderson for a coconut mojito. The result was a bright, clean, coconut water - laced libation whose tropical nuances were sadly overshadowed by a serious wallop of rum.

All wounds were healed by the arrival of the flash seared Hiramasa, wading in a piquant, vinegary pool of yuzu and topped with jalapeno slivers and exotic myoga – and of course, the crackling chorus of orange pop rocks. The buttery soft portions of yellowtail soothed the palate, quietly supporting the bolder flavors of the yuzu and jalapeno. And the pop rocks? A barely there hint of citrus – but perhaps more importantly, the ingredient served as a conversation piece and small delight accenting the success of the dish.

As we passed plates and chattered about the merits of each, I began to comprehend the ‘social’ aspect of the restaurant’s mantra. Created with a wink from Executive Chef Troy Guard, the playful starters are meant to engage the diner, setting the table atwitter upon delivery. The taco sushi arrived with just such a flair – rather than the standard rice-and-nori vehicle, petite, crunchy taco shells were delivered cradling delicate tidbits of tuna with a kick of mango salsa and guacamole. The dish was a table favorite that had diners crunching away and swatting wrists for the last bite.

The tropical twists throughout the evening connected diners with Executive Chef Troy Guard’s Hawaiian roots – the Li-Hing mango salsa, fresh tropical cocktails, Asian influences – all proved a welcome escape from the frosty December evening.

The main courses, though appetizing and skillfully executed, lacked some of the verve of the inventive starters. The Szechuan Colorado Lamb was a seared, glistening chop cooked to ruby perfection– but only the faintest hint of sweet-hot marinade asserted itself. Given the wow factors of our previous dishes, I looked forward to a bolder showing. The dish was, however, pleasantly plated over a bed of nubby couscous soaked with lip smacking, umami-rich dragon sauce. Still discussing the Hiramasa a few plates past, we forged onward.

After much bargaining and promises to exchange bites, our group settled on a select few desserts from a list shockingly devoid of crème brûlée or chocolate lava cake derivations. A cup of loosely arranged piping hot churros arrived and disappeared in a flash. Crisp on the outside and pillowy within, these cinnamon-sugar dusted batons elevated the street cart favorite and lent another continental nod to mexico.

In spite of its weighty name, the sticky toffee cake was featherlight and traced with the nutty-sweet essence of its namesake confection. The tart raspberry passion sauce effectively sliced through the heady lusciousness of the cake, while a subtly flavored quenelle of bourbon butterscotch ice cream drizzled lazily over the cake’s edge. After knocking away a couple of superfluous ganache truffles , I indulged in the perfectly portioned sweet.

These fresh, fun concoctions seek to engage the diner and make that crucial link between food and experience. Sharing not just a plate of food, but a quirky, playful dining experience, allows TAG to distinguish itself from typical tapas fare.

"It's cool..."

The spirit of Mr. T in every spoonful! More proof to Jason that I can recite a large cache of 80's commercial jingles by heart... Who's got the Colgate pump? We've got the Colgate pump...

Harry Potter: Growing Pains

To critique Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, a septet of Haikus. Spoiler Alert?

More trouble, Harry?
Way to go with Dumbledore.
Call for help next time.

Little Miss Weasley
Potter could do much better.
Where did Cho Chang go?

Dear Hermione,
Do get your act together.
Ron is a hot piece...

More Luna Lovegood!
Coolest wizard at Hogwarts
Harry should hit that.

Trouble is afoot
How did Gollum replicate?
Don't drink my precious...

Yummy half-blood prince
Conflicting, angry wizard
I might love you, Snape.

Next chapter coming
How am I supposed to wait?
Should have read the books.

Leavin' on a jet plane

Quick poll: Armageddon or Deep Impact? Correct answer: Armageddon. A poll almost totally unrelated to the rest of the post, but there we are.

So ANYWAY, yesterday I took Jason and the guys to the airport for their first in a series of business trips to the liberal mecca of the world, San Francisco. Thanks to my careful planning and my rigid adherence to the 'arrive two hours early' rule of navigating airports, we arrived to discover not only were we two and a half hours early, but the flight had been delayed for another hour. Translate: airport party.

DIA has a great-hall full of food and junk shops before you actually go through security, so we swerved into the high-roller short-term parking lot for three hours of airport fun. At first, we tried for the sit-down restaurant. Despite the stale, sticky, beer-laden air of depression the restaurant exuded like a visible haze, the place was packed - so off to the food court with its more appealing blend of stale, sticky, grease-tainted air.

After being accosted three times by a short tsa agent asking what time it was, I raised my clearly watchless arms to him and said it would take ten minutes for me to find the phone in my purse. True to form, I start digging and fumbling awkwardly until the lady in front of me finally gave an exasperated 6:07, leaving me to shrug blankly. Two chicken and cheese ONLY gorditas later, I sat down to unwrap my glorious feast - only to discover it had been doused in some radioactive orange nacho sauce instead of the standard smattering of actual cheese. For someone who gets greatly agitated when two strawberries do not have identical flavorings, this was a near criminal offense.

Later, we toodled about, pointing out various 'Denver'-themed items (dreamcatchers? stuffed yaks wearing jaunty multicolored hats? Painted Horses?) and made our way to the secret porch at the end of the hall to catch the glimmering Colorado sunset. The best times can be had when you least expect them - all depends on the company, I suppose!

"Bank robber cites economy during bank holdup"

Was the robber's name Obama and the bank called America? I think he used the exact same excuse.

Thanks, Houston Chronicle, you made it easy!

I share TOTUS' sentiment

He just couldn't take any more of the lies. After dedicated months of constant service, Obama's dear friend TOTUS is little more than a sorry, demoralized pile of shards.

As Obama referred to the many actions he'd taken since assuming office to preserve* America's status as an economic superpower, TOTUS shook free of his moors, made one final blink, and hurtled himself into nothingness.

At least he has put an end to his part in the propagation of Obama's gilded untruths.

*destroy