R-Bar, Au Revior Les Incompetents (Now only awkward since I was returned shortly after being raptured a month ago)

R Bar
3209 E. Colfax Ave. Denver, CO 80206


The R Bar is the perfect little place to say good-bye to those of you I will be leaving behind shortly.  Here is what I love about this happy hour. 

1) It is teeny and there aren't a ton of people because you cannot fit very many people in the bar. 

2) There is always a draft beer special, a wine special and a fancy cocktail special.  The food is pretty good too.  It is definitely great for happy hour dining.  We had fried calamari (which again is kind of a WTF for Denver) but was good enough and fried green tomatoes, because obviously my body is my temple and I only put the finest ingredients of health inside it.  In the grand scheme of things, I really don't care since this was a pre-pocolypse party, I figured I would be a little drunk and well fed, and I have seen that Albert Brooks / Meryl Streep movie where they go to heaven and Meryl Streep is eating a shiltload of pasta and Albert Brooks is all "That is so unhealthy and Meryl is all - there are no stomachs!"  Or something like that.  I don't remember the exact details, but I was uncomfortable with the amount of public transportation in that film's portrayal of  heaven.  My heaven is one without small talk which means no public transportation thankyouverymuch. 


Ok, so we get it.  This place is pretty good but here is something I found very strange and I think you will agree that there is a strange pattern with motherfuckery waiters in this town.  So the website says happy hour is from 4-7 and the menu says 4-7 and there was a sign on the door that says happy hour begins at 4 and ends at 7 -which brought me to the conclusion that one could purchase happy hour beverages at the happy hour prices until 7pm.  My friend orders a drink at 6:35 and this waiter says that happy hour ends at 6:35pm. WHAT THE FUCK?  Why does everyone who works in the service industry have to be such a megabitch all the time?  ALL WE WANT IS WHAT WE ORDERED AT THE PRICES YOU PROMISED US - or what I refer to as the new social contract theory which states we are under an un-written social contract that I will not hurt you if you give me the booze and food you promised me at the happy hour prices on the goddamn front door you anus.  Of course I am being all complainy about it now - but when it happened, my first reaction was - maybe I read it wrong? on the website, on the door, on the menu.  No, I didn't.  Luckily we got it all worked out but this waiter needs to watch it.  If he tries to pull the old banana in the tailpipe trick again I will go apeshit.  I will be honest with you.  I won't.  I am so all talk.  I will probably sulk in the corner but I will never say anything.  I am a southern lady with southern lady manners, should the southern lady I be compared to be one of those southern ladies on the Real Housewives of Atlanta.


Summary - Please don't go to R Bar because I don't want it to be crowded the next time I have my Big Raptcha Pahty.

Parisi - Never Gonna Give You Up

Parisi
4401 Tennyson Street
Denver CO 80212

Parisi and I have been "going together" since I first moved to the Denver.  It was my first MOST FAVORITE PLACE EVER in this city and it has yet to let me down.  Four score and seven years ago, or like 8 or 9 years ago it was a teeny hole in the wall that served a few sandwiches, salads and hot items.  I fucking loved it.  Tiny and perfect and the best prosciutto my mouth had ever known.  A gorgeous and simple sandwich, the parma, was all I ever wanted in my life.   Some prosciutto, a hint of oil, provolone cheese, and a touch of lettuce and tomato. It whispers to me from the menu, "I am fucking awesome.  Eat the shit outta me." I was once asked the question that should I find myself on a deserted island what 5 things could I not live without.  I answered this question as follows:

1) Prosciutto
2) Prosciutto
3) Prosciutto
4) Prosciutto
5) Prosciutto

Obviously, that is silly, because I will need to wash the prosciutto down with a little white wine spritzer and I'm gonna need some greens....but you get the point.  Defuckinglicious.

I still visit Parisi at least once a month. It is so much more than just the house of the most elegant of sandwiches.  It took me about five years but I was finally able to discover other items on the menu.  The risotto is glamorous, the pizza divine and their specials are pretty spectacular as well.  Their in-house market carries tons of frozen pastas and some $500 a pound prosciutto and delicious-looking overpriced seafood salad and risotto balls.  I love anything that has been balled you know?

I cannot get enough of you Parisi.

Many years ago, I was at a snowstorm party, although in retrospect, it wasn't so much a storm as just snow.  Anyway, I was sitting at the dining room table chatting to a friend of mine of what shall become of us when some gurl or womyny type sits down next to me and says, you are a cunt and you love being a cunt.  You are a cunt who loves being a cunt.  Obviously this young woman was inebriated on a grand scale, however,  I think about that sometimes when I write what I am about to write.  I probably am one, TO ANSWER YOUR RHETORICAL QUESTION, but I don't think I love being one.  Sometimes I am ok with with it but I don't LOVE it.  Mostly, I would say I tolerate being one - and obviously tolerate this girl which I guess decunts me a little.  Shortly after exclaiming my cuntdom to the world, she tried to start a physical fight with a another girl, and ended up just lying in the snow and crying, so I wouldn't say this girl is an excellent judge of what is or what is not a cunt.   Nonetheless, I feel guilty saying what I am about to say, so I just want YOU to know that if what I say sounds cunty to you, I don't mean to and I certainly don't LOVE being one.

Here is my issue with Parisi.  You have to stand in a line in order to get a table, which is fine because I am usually ripping through a menu with my eyes trying to decide - should I get the parma or the risotto or what AAAAAACK!!!!? I am a total Cathy when it comes to this menu.  Anyway, you order your food at a counter and you sit down, much like Luby's if Luby's was glamorous with gorgeous food.  Although now that I think about it - you go through a food line at Luby's and plop your food on your plate so scratch that - this is NOTHING like Luby's but I love to say Luby's so there.  Anyway, here is my problem with Parisi.  I think the staff might be a little big for their britches, or maybe they just don't care about their clientele, but I went up to the counter to order myself a drink (after being seated obviously) NO ONE WOULD HELP ME.  They saw my big face at the counter and ignored it.  Several people who worked there, just stood around doing nothing. Like they couldn't be bothered because they were too busy not helping me.  What the fuck is wrong with people?  Why are you in he service industry if you cannot service this lady a beer?  There is a reason I don't serve people, well there are a couple of reasons, I don't like serving people and I have no concept of time. But that is ok because I do something else with my time.  So I am sorry Parisi but please get those teens behind the counter some in-i-tia-tive.  Other than that I love you.

Lou's Times Two - Electric Bugalooo

I know that no one wants to read the same restaurant review but I went back to Lou's last week and it was GLORIOUS. Like a teenager in love for the first time I want the world to know how I feel.

I don't need to tell you about the deliciousness of before so if you want to know about the first time, go fucking read it yourself lady.

(I am currently reading the menu to remind myself of everything I shoved down my gullet and my tongue is totally bonering up at the words on the page.)

1) Beef Carpaccio, Parmesan and Arugula - this was the last thing I ate - but I cannot stop thinking about it. What a pièce de résistance. The moment I placed this incredibly delicate yet rich and smooth beef on my tongue I was reminded of that scene in Boyz in the Hood, where that lady is all - you got some rock, you got some blow, Man, I'll suck your dick!  If you replace rock and blow with beef carpaccio and a little arugula with the ever so subtle hint of parmesan and olive oil, you might have yourself a deal. Just gorgeous

2) Mel's Mussels - Whoa.  Mussels are easy to fuck up and simultaneously difficult to perfect.  These were as close to perfection as I have had in the landlockedness of Denver. 

3) Cheese Plate - Fuck me gently with a chainsaw or a cheese plate.  That doesn't even make sense, but I will say, go eat a cheese plate at Lou's and you will probably speak gibberish by the end of the meal.

We ordered some happy hour items as well. As I said before, I don't normally like crabcakes but I couldn't keep my filthy paws off them and so we ordered a few, plus the sausages. Don't get me started on those delightful combinations of dignity and elegance.  Just eat them.  Seriously.

The cocktails are fucking gorgeous and CHEAP!  $5 for a sazerac people.  $5.  I should have said that in the beginning.  I mean - that is the happiest hour of all happy hours.

I cannot believe that this place wasn't crowded.  What the fuck is wrong with Denver?

If you live in Denver and you do not go to Lou's you are dumb and I will not like you.  If you do go to Lou's you will probably see me there.

Bagel Deli - You... Light Up My Life

The Bagel Deli
6439 East Hampden Avenue Denver, CO 80222

So yesterday evening this pain in the ass old broad and I got into an argument over which was better, The New York Deli News or The Bagel Deli.  This argument stems from her being given a choice where we would dine for her farewell lunch. She is retiring HOORAY and not dying, this isn't Soylent Green asshole.  She said her options were LePeep, New York Deli News and the Denver Country Club.  Sidenote, this fight lasted way longer than the old lady could stomach which meant I won AGAIN even though nothing was really resolved, but I will miss her staunch negativity.

Anyway, so first I said to her - LOOK LADY are you fucking kidding me?  You dare put LefuckingPeep (a crapfest) and New York Deli News(mid range at best) in the same category as the glorious and fabulous Denver Country Club?  Some day, I may write a comparison of the country clubs of this city (which I do not hang out in - I just sometimes eat there for " personal business" reasons) but it sounds real  - WELL LA DI DA of me and I certainly do not want to come across as pompous.  Well, frankly I don't give a fuck what you think because this is a RAGE blog that channels my anger through my love for good eatin, much like The Fonz made birdhouses out of popsicle sticks to temper his temper. 

Anyway, how is this about Bagel Deli you ask?

So, I am bullying an old woman into going where I would prefer we eat her final meal (we can only hope) when I say - by the way - you just went to New York Deli News last week, wouldn't you rather go to Bagel Deli instead?  It is better and basically right next door.  Well you would have thought that I shit on Elvis Presley's face (oh, she is the head of the local fan club) and she said OOOOOOOH NO it isn't.  I said, have you ever been there?  And she said, No, why?  I think that explains why I have secretly and by secretly I mean very publicly hated her for the last 5 years. 

So, this morning I went to Bagel Deli out of spite - because I am no better than she, worse in fact, as we are supposed to respect our elders. 

I love Bagel Deli.  I wrote a review of it in 2008 (because I have been trying to channel this rage for many years) http://mallorypicks.blogspot.com/2009/03/bagel-delicatessen-hopefully-where-i.html and I think that review is even worse than this one because it is overly peppered with the word anus.  Anyway again, Bagel deli really is that incredible.  So much so, or not so, that it was featured on Diners, Drive ins and Dives, which I know because they have every possible poster and advertisement for it plastered all over their restaurant and I am so sick of looking at that Guy's face which is the one draw back to Bagel Deli, having to look at that unpunk's face.

So this morning, I picked up a bagel with glorious lox  and showed it to ole whatserface and I said, look you lazy bag of bones, the Bagel Deli is far superior and you can watch me eat if you disagree.  Needless to say, she shut her trap up real good.  Another win por moi.

Moral of the story - this place has the best pastrami in Colorado so go there.