They have come in hordes, attacking us from the bar and dining room alike. They have forced us into the crevice
which houses our communication equipment and weaponry. We have offered our best Pretzel Bites, Posole, and
marrow bones in hopes of appeasing everyone. They seem satiated for the moment, until they view the beer list.
They are jealous of the treasures we have for Restaurant Week (formerly and sometimes still referred to as “5280”) and they want to partake. We offer what we can. We are generous. They are generous as well. They have much gold. We have great food and beer. The trade seems to benefit both parties.
Our bartenders are hiding behind the trenches, volleying out Apple Pie shots and Station 26 Juicy Bangers as meager semblances of defense.
Our beers are too delicious. Our selection too vast. Our food too fresh. We stand no hope.
The ticket machine goes off like gunfire around us. The dish machine sounds like a stampede approaching from the South. We are fighting.
As night closes in, our invaders grow weary and retire to their tents, caves, and other shelters. We are given a chance to count the casualties and prepare ourselves for the next sunrise. Restocking our ammunition and sharpening our knives. We will rest. We will be ready. As they will come at mid-morning. And they will come thirsty and hungry.
I will write soon, Mother.
AKA Daniel Shaffer, Sous Chef
Owners note: We couldn’t be prouder of the food that our kitchen is preparing and the responses from our guests that we’re getting this year during Denver Restaurant Week. It’s a great program from Visit Denver and we’re extremely happy to participate in it.