Mizuna: A restaurant

For us, walking into Mizuna at 7th and Grant (just down the street from that stalwart purveyor of tex-mex, Benny's) is like going to a family reunion, that is if the food is the best in all of Denver. Mizuna had only been open a month when we first had dinner there. We were on our way to see THE VAGINA MONOLOGUES with Franny, who was just entering her Marxist/Feminist period, and I had read about Frank Bonanno's new place in 5280.

That first dinner there was a transforming experience and every dinner since (we average about one a month) has lived up to that first evening.

Last Saturday celebrating our 33rd anniversary was a case in point. The car valets gave us their usual wave to let us know that we didn't need to leave our name. I'm sure they would recognize our Subaru Forester, the one with 110,000 miles, anywhere. Steve greeted us at the door and ushered us to our table along the bank of tables by the window and just under the spectacular painting of Frank and Alex Seidel (now the owner/chef at Fruition) slaving away in the kitchen. Steve brought Kathie her usual screwdriver (The instant we walk into the place, someone starts squeezing oranges. That's the kind of place it is.) and brought me a bottle of Pelegrino with a twist. We sat enjoying our drinks and looking over the constantly changing menu as a parade of every waiter, busboy, owner, chef, and sommelier in the place stopped by to welcome us back.

We love to sit at tables in various corners and look out at the scene. Mizuna is always packed and always abuzz with the conviviality of pleased diners. If you want to know what happy people look like, have dinner at Mizuna.

I love it when a waiter delivers a dish to a lucky patron. Have you seen JULIE AND JULIA when Julia Child has her first bite of Sole Meunier at the beginning and she looks up at the heavens as if to say "Thank you God. I didn't know food could taste like this." That is precisely the look that goes around the room at Mizuna like a never ending wave at a football game. And the waiters always look back over their shoulders because they are incredibly proud of what they are serving and like to see that look over and over again on the faces of their customers.

I had a new fois gras preparation with a alarmingly large lobe of the buttery stuff accompanied by a sweet chestnut stuffing and roasted butternut squash in a perfectly symmetrical and amazingly tiny dice. Kathie started with the lobster mac and cheese, the only thing on the menu that has never left, and for good reason. The lobster mac and cheese is also the dish that earned Frank Bonanno a victory in the food network's mac and cheese battle.

Next we shared a Frisee salad with figs and duck cracklings. I normally don't like frisee because the texture is kind of rough and irritating, but this was different. When Steve asked how we were enjoying the salad, I jokingly made the comment that some poor slob in the kitchen must have gone through each leaf of frisee to take off any unnecessarily rough edges. Without batting an eye, Steve said that's exactly what happens. Again, that's the kind of place this is. When someone orders a dish with mashed potatoes, a typical restaurant like 240 Union, for example, gets the mashed potatoes out of the freezer. At Mizuna, some guy in the back starts peeling spuds.

Katherine had the veal and the amazing little veal sausages for her main course. I had the ostrich, rare and wild tasting atop a bed of brussel sprout leaves with a chestnut bread pudding on the side. Beautiful. Perfect. All of this was matched to a Chateauneuf du Pape that Ryan chose for us. That's another thing I love about the place. They have a great wine list, but it is much more fun to simply tell Ryan our menu and let him choose the right wine. He always comes through.

We ended the meal with a shared plate of beignets and strong, black coffee.

There are a number of things that Katherine and I do well. She knits, pays the bills, decides where we will travel next, and mentors new teachers all over the city. I take out the garbage. But the thing we do best is eat and allow people at fine dining establishments to cater to our every need. We have eaten at Mario Batali's place (Babbo) in New York. We had a great dinner at The French Laundry in Napa. We have eaten at Jose Andreas' place in D.C. All great restaurants, but none any better than Mizuna in Denver, Colorado.