I had breakfast with an awesome friend today - one I've never thought of as "close", but who always inspires me. We ate at Dozens, a place I've seen a million times, parked near a thousand times, considered a hundred times and made a date to go to a handful of times, but this is the first time I've actually gone.
There is something about certain restaurants or drinking establishments that makes me feel required to be judgmental. It's nameless, but it makes me notice every burnt out light bulb, every stain on the menu, every chip in the paint. Dozens is NOT one of those places.
I didn't have a stellar experience, and I didn't have a horrible experience, and somehow that was ok. I left feeling like I came, I ate, and I got exactly what I expected. That's more than I can say for many dining experiences I've had.
The "I'm your friend let's hang out" service was great and not overdone - it seemed authentic, which almost sounds like an oxymoron as I type it, but it's true. The name of each dish was cheeky and Denver-y: you had to be a local to understand them all, I think. Or maybe you had to be the owner. My 'Blue Bonnet Sonnet' omelet was exactly what it needed to be: fluffy and filled with green chile and cheddar. Although I'd hardly call the 1/48th of a slice of pineapple a "side of fresh fruit included", it was fresh and zingy on a cold winter day, which was all I could ask for.
There was one thing that caught me off guard: the citrus overtones of the cinnamon roll. It's cool to play with comfort food favorites and add a twist of your own flavor and all that. In fact, it's common and often well done. But, Dozens, you really do owe diners fair warning when you mess with something as promising and potentially life changing as a cinnamon roll. People see the poetic combination of those two words on the page and spiral-shaped, crunchy-on-the-outside-soft-on-the-inside memories take hold. It's already an uphill battle: going up against the idea of the cinnamon roll. You really should be honest if you plan to throw those memories down and stomp on them.
The citrus marmalade glaze was a shock when I was expecting gooey, cinnamon-y, creamy icing-y goodness, but I made it through and feel I'm better for it. I even enjoyed it a little, once I assuaged my mind with the logic that, this wasn't a real cinnamon roll. My memories are tainted, and I may never read that poetic line the same way again, but I'll add it to my life experiences and hopefully never be duped again.
My breakfast-mate, on the other hand, welcomed the surprise and counted it as a blessing. Which brings me back to him: the inspirational friend across the table from me.
It's not that he has a difficult life: in fact, quite the opposite. But the few circumstances that might be considered setbacks by some have had 'opportunity' written all over them through his glasses. He had a child before he was ready to start a family, and does everything he can for his son despite the circumstances. He has followed a career path taking him far away from his girlfriend of several years, but he has the strength and conviction to stay on that path because he knows it's right for him. He sees every day as a chance to wake up, do awesome stuff, and live for himself without apologies. He fits more activities into one day than I fit into an entire summer, and for a peak bagger living in Colorado that says alot.
I only hope I can take some lessons from his book and run at life head on while still stopping to hold doors for those who need it. May we all rush at our dreams full force and take unhesitating bites of cinnamon rolls, come what may.
There is something about certain restaurants or drinking establishments that makes me feel required to be judgmental. It's nameless, but it makes me notice every burnt out light bulb, every stain on the menu, every chip in the paint. Dozens is NOT one of those places.
I didn't have a stellar experience, and I didn't have a horrible experience, and somehow that was ok. I left feeling like I came, I ate, and I got exactly what I expected. That's more than I can say for many dining experiences I've had.
The "I'm your friend let's hang out" service was great and not overdone - it seemed authentic, which almost sounds like an oxymoron as I type it, but it's true. The name of each dish was cheeky and Denver-y: you had to be a local to understand them all, I think. Or maybe you had to be the owner. My 'Blue Bonnet Sonnet' omelet was exactly what it needed to be: fluffy and filled with green chile and cheddar. Although I'd hardly call the 1/48th of a slice of pineapple a "side of fresh fruit included", it was fresh and zingy on a cold winter day, which was all I could ask for.
There was one thing that caught me off guard: the citrus overtones of the cinnamon roll. It's cool to play with comfort food favorites and add a twist of your own flavor and all that. In fact, it's common and often well done. But, Dozens, you really do owe diners fair warning when you mess with something as promising and potentially life changing as a cinnamon roll. People see the poetic combination of those two words on the page and spiral-shaped, crunchy-on-the-outside-soft-on-the-inside memories take hold. It's already an uphill battle: going up against the idea of the cinnamon roll. You really should be honest if you plan to throw those memories down and stomp on them.
The citrus marmalade glaze was a shock when I was expecting gooey, cinnamon-y, creamy icing-y goodness, but I made it through and feel I'm better for it. I even enjoyed it a little, once I assuaged my mind with the logic that, this wasn't a real cinnamon roll. My memories are tainted, and I may never read that poetic line the same way again, but I'll add it to my life experiences and hopefully never be duped again.
My breakfast-mate, on the other hand, welcomed the surprise and counted it as a blessing. Which brings me back to him: the inspirational friend across the table from me.
It's not that he has a difficult life: in fact, quite the opposite. But the few circumstances that might be considered setbacks by some have had 'opportunity' written all over them through his glasses. He had a child before he was ready to start a family, and does everything he can for his son despite the circumstances. He has followed a career path taking him far away from his girlfriend of several years, but he has the strength and conviction to stay on that path because he knows it's right for him. He sees every day as a chance to wake up, do awesome stuff, and live for himself without apologies. He fits more activities into one day than I fit into an entire summer, and for a peak bagger living in Colorado that says alot.
I only hope I can take some lessons from his book and run at life head on while still stopping to hold doors for those who need it. May we all rush at our dreams full force and take unhesitating bites of cinnamon rolls, come what may.
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