Sheila Lucero scurried around the kitchen at Jax Fish House in LoDo, assembling the sort of dish that put the popular restaurant on the map: a sweet-potato hash spiked with chorizo sausage, poblanos and baby spinach.
It was Thursday afternoon, snow was falling, and she was two hours away from showtime. But the diners would not be the usual top-shelf martini crowd. Instead, she was cooking for residents at the Barth Hotel, an assisted-living facility right across the street.
“I think they’re really gonna like this,” Lucero said.
Joining her would be chefs bearing holiday dishes from eight other LoDo restaurants. They are part of an annual program sponsored by LoDo Cares, a confederation of downtown businesses that, among other efforts, has taken the Barth under its wing.
“The program was created to bring some holiday spirit to the Barth,” said Deborah Cameron, director of community relations for Senior Housing Options, which runs the hotel. “A lot of these people don’t have contact with their families. A holiday dinner is a way to make them feel connected.”
If you’ve spent time in LoDo, you have likely walked past the Barth, though you might not have paid it much attention. It sits on 17th Street between Blake and Wazee streets. The brick building is 126 years old, and most of the occupants of its 62 rooms are on Medicaid.
The holiday meal has become as much a tradition for the restaurants as the tenants.
“We’ve been doing this for about four years,” said Lucero, Jax’s executive chef. “They’re right across the street, and we know a lot of them. It’s an easy thing to do.”
Other participants included Vesta Dipping Grill, The Keg, The Celtic Tavern, Gumbo’s, Dixon’s, McCormick’s, City Baker and the Tavern Hospitality Group. They chipped in for a feast: two turkeys, two hams, six pumpkin pies, all the trimmings.
For Jim Theye, a founder of Kentwood City Properties and a key member of LoDo Cares, the dinner is a chance to do something for people who are every bit a part of the downtown as the club kids — just not as visible.
“For many of the residents, this is their holiday,” he said.
Post-dinner caroling is part of the tradition, although Theye confessed that “after a starch bomb like we put on, it’s a little hard to get into a rousing chorus.”
“But the carols turn it into more than a quick dinner,” he said. “This is really important for them to come together.”
This is Rebecca Simons’ second Christmas at the Barth. She arrived 2 1/2 years ago after nearly a lifetime battling bipolar disorder.
“I’ve been in and out of mental hospitals, and this place is a godsend,” she said. “I’ve really gotten on my feet here and stabilized. It’s been wonderful, a very loving place to be.”
At 60, Simons has long, dark hair, blue-gray eyes and a broad face. She plays the guitar and a bit of piano, and spends much of her time writing songs.
This year she planned a bit of song, if not dance, for her fellow residents: a rendition of the holiday staple “Silver Bells,” interwoven with verses she penned about life at the Barth.
Good call, I told her. “Barth Hotel” plays off nicely against “Silver Bells.”
“There you go,” she said with a laugh. “But first I’m going to sit down to a really nice dinner.”
Pass the sweet potatoes.
William Porter’s column runs Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Reach him at 303-954-1877 or wporter@denverpost.com.
