(Denver Love Letters: #1)
So I think I could post almost every day about something I love about Denver. I’m not going to hold myself to that, but I think it will be more than once a week.
My Big Fat Greek Cafe. It has a ridiculous name, reminiscent of weddings and 2002 films, I know, but you just have to get over it and appreciate its finer points, including:
- I’ve never waited for a table there, ever. Ever. Not even yesterday, which was a holiday, and saw long lines outside most other establishments.
- A waitress who says, “I’ll be right with yous.” It reminds me of home. Grammatically, the plural does make more sense. It’s kind of like she’s correcting the English language. As you’re paying, she sometimes asks what yous are doing today, too.
- Gyro skillets, sans feta, and strong coffee: #1 Hangover Cure Of All Time. And unlike Pete’s Kitchen or the Breakfast King or Davie’s Chuck Wagon Diner, it’s even good if you’re not hungover. (Disclaimer: I’ve never eaten anything else there, so I can’t really comment on the food overall. This, among other reasons, is why I’m not a restaurant critic.)
- Relative proximity to my apartment. Totally walkable.
- Coffee is refilled well before you start to think you need more.
- Totally not a scene. So you don’t have to shower or do your hair or anything — yesterday’s clothes and makeup remnants and a mostly-falling-out ponytail work just fine. Ha — I wrote that and then realized that this “look” is totally acceptable — even sought-after — in certain scenes.
- I’ve never seen anyone I knew there.
Apparently Denver has a disproportionate number of Greek restaurants (according to my sister). All I know is that gyro meat for breakfast isn’t uncommon here, and I like it. And I also like not waiting in line for it.
In other news, Jason Sheehan, the Westword’s restaurant critic, is leaving for Seattle. I’m sad about that, but wish him well. Incidentally he doesn’t really like MBFGC. Dear Ever-Slimming Westword: Please don’t get rid of the Cafe section!