Yes, it’s freezing out there.
Yes, it gets dark early.
Yes, we have piles of snow and ice still clogging our streets. Navigating my little car through the deep ruts in my own neighborhood feels like taking the low road to Jalalabad after a month-long Himalayan freeze.
(OK, I’ve never been to Jalalabad but I think you know what I mean.)
Anyway, my point is, it’s winter. The weather outside is frightful.
I get it.
But enough is enough. We are Coloradans, dang it. We can handle this. Our collective ancestors, native or immigrant, didn’t put down roots here so that we, their descendants, could moan about the wind-chill factor while we heat up another Lean Cuisine.
No. We are hardy folk. A little snow shouldn’t scare us.
It’s time for us to wrap a scarf around our collective neck and get back out there.
To eat.
Please.
I have been in too many empty restaurants the past few weeks and, quite frankly, it’s depressing. This is not the vibrant, exciting Denver I know and love.
Of course, no one (especially not me) likes chaotic bar scenes, epic waits for reserved tables or overextended servers, but as far as I’m concerned a dining room devoid of people is a much bigger downer than having your coat stepped on at an overcrowded martini-and-steak house.
And lately, Denver-area dining rooms are feeling mighty desolate indeed.
I’m not the only one who’s bummed out. I think the lack of people is depressing our cooks, too, and it’s showing on the plates.
Lackluster presentations, soggy salads, overcooked meat, lukewarm soup, uninspired “specials,” burnt coffee, week-old refrigerated desserts.
It has to stop.
Naturally, my first inclination, when my meals lack vigor, is to blame the chef.
But after three straight weeks (or so) of almost universally unexciting meals in sparsely populated restaurants, I’m starting to think that the blame for all this boring food rests on us, the customers.
Restaurants can’t excel unless we show up and give them the chance.
If we aren’t willing to make the four-block trek over to our neighborhood favorite, or drive across town for a special evening at a fancy joint, we can’t really expect our cooks to stay engaged back there in the kitchen.
After all, having only two or three tables a night to cook for isn’t exactly inspiring.
Conversely, nothing lights a fire under a chef’s apron quite like a full house.
When they know that the reservations book is full, chefs come in early and stay late.
A busy night doesn’t exhaust a chef, it energizes her. When the rent is covered, a chef dreams about new dishes, not big, scary repo men.
And when customers like you and I dole out feedback, especially positive feedback, chefs try even harder.
Ladies and germs, it’s up to us. We can light that fire. But there’s only one way to get it done: By getting out there and putting our butts in the seats.
Let’s do our frustrated city (and frustrated chefs) a midwinter favor: Make a reservation today for a special dinner out this week.
It’s the least we can do.
Dining critic Tucker Shaw can be reached at 303-954-1958 or at dining@denverpost.com.
