The first time I visited Brewery Bar II on Kalamath Street was July 2005. I was in town to visit some friends and interview for my current job at The Post.
The trip, for me, was also a fact-finding mission. In just a few short days, I had to take the temperature of Denver's dining scene and decide whether to change everything about my life to move here and cover it.
So friends and potential bosses took me to a marathon succession of meals at some of the so-called finest restaurants in town, ostensibly to show me what was happening in Denver.
And while I was charmed and impressed with the lamb roulades and three-way tomato appetizers and elk medallions with six dipping sauces, I felt, for most of that trip, like I could have been anywhere.
I'd been shown plenty of culinary talent, but I was missing Denver.
At least, I was missing the Denver I'd left almost 20 years before.
That is, until I had lunch at the Brewery Bar II.
Even though the Brewery Bar II existed when I was growing up a couple of neighborhoods away, I had never eaten there.
But as soon as I walked in I knew the place inside and out. Part sports bar, part Mexican restaurant, all familiar.
Chips and salsa on every table. Pitchers, not just glasses, of margaritas. TV talking heads speculating (loudly) about the Broncos' upcoming preseason. Barflies, office workers, construction crews, hipsters, and back in the then-nonsmoking room, kids. Sit-wherever-you-like waitresses in sweatshirts and sneakers who engage you with probers like "hot or mild?" and "salt or no salt?" A menu offering nothing over $10. Walls oozing Denver's unique brand of wholesome West-Southwestern seediness.
Here was the Denver I remembered, the one I'd never been able to explain, let alone find replicated, anywhere on the East Coast.
So it was at the Brewery Bar II (after a half-pitcher of margaritas and a combo platter No. 1) that I decided to make Denver, again, my home. Not because of the food, but because of the soul.
That combo platter No. 1 hasn't changed in the dozen or so times I've been back to Brewery Bar II since. It is a king-sized feast. The star is a large, crispy, smoky, decadent cheese-filled chile relleno; the sidekick is an even bigger burrito (chicken, bean, ground beef, or ground beef and bean), stuffed into a soft flour tortilla. Your choice of smother: red or green chile.
Recommendation: Go with the chicken in the burrito, and take the soft, smoky, splendid green chile smother. At the "hot-or-mild" bridge, ask for half-and-half.
Elegant food? No. Refined? Nope. Best in town? No way. But the combo No. 1, like all the food at Brewery Bar, is a fine example of solid, everyday neighborhood cooking. And it'll fill you up for the rest of the night.
When the No. 1 is too ambitious, I go for the No. 4: Chile relleno, Spanish rice, beans, and two tortillas. It's a little less challenging in its size but plenty satisfying.
The Mexican hamburger, a dish I'm always game to try even though it's usually awful, was nicely if not perfectly cooked, drowning as it was in its own chile bath.
The best time to enjoy Brewery Bar II's smothered cheese and onion enchiladas is midday on a Saturday, with a margarita that you know will keep you from accomplishing much for the rest of the day but who cares? Ask them to throw a fried egg on your enchiladas for an extra buck, over easy. Let the yolk run into your chile. Perfect.
Requiring its own category of guilty pleasure gross-good are Brewery Bar II's miniature cheese and onion rellenos with chile on the side. These little deep-fried nuggets of cheese- filled wonton are appalling in concept and in execution. They're also absolutely irresistible.
Chips-and-salsa are the bread and butter of Mexican restaurants, and I wish Brewery Bar II would up the ante on their lackluster salsa. I also wish they served better chips. Same goes for the guacamole.
Back to those margaritas. Wherever you order a pitcher of margaritas, there's always a gamble involved. As a rule, the larger the quantity of cocktail your bartender's mixing, the less precision he or she likely uses in the measuring the ingredients. And while most of the margaritas I've had at Brewery Bar II have been refreshing, flavorful and just intoxicating enough, I've also had a few off-balance duds.
Good thing there's plenty of cold beer on tap, and tequila for shots.
Now that there's no smoking allowed, this is an easy once-a- week supper for families with kids. You'll fill 'em up for next to nothing and it's better than the drive-thru.
The truth is, most of Denver's so-called finest restaurants could (and do) exist in mirror images in cities all across America. While delicious, there is nothing uniquely Denver about roasted burrata or lobster macaroni and cheese, and while fun, nothing inherently Denver about a 75-drink "'tini" menu or a bar full of imported beers. This is the stuff of Anytown, U.S.A.
But the Brewery Bar II, from the Broncos-speculation on the TV screen to the green chile on the combo plates, belongs only here.
It is wholly Denver.
(Note: Brewery Bar also has two additional locations, but only the Kalamath Street location was visited for this review.)
Dining critic Tucker Shaw can be reached at 303-954-1958 or at dining@denverpost.com.
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Atmosphere: Part sports bar, part Mexican restaurant. Two dining rooms, with seating for a few dozen patrons. Groups of workers, families, couples and single diners share the space. Large bar area.
Service: Casual and friendly, but no-nonsense. Food arrives hot, drink glasses are watched, and checks are settled quickly.
Wine: How about a pitcher of house margaritas or a cold beer?
Plates: Nothing over $10.
Kitchen hours: 11 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. Monday-Thursday. 11 a.m. to 8:45 p.m. Friday. 11 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. Saturday. Closed Sunday.
Details: All major credit cards accepted. Parking lot. Wheelchair accessible. No reservations.
Three vis