A communal circle started the class. Women checked in with each other as their names and thoughts for the day circulated counterclockwise. They were seated on the floor and actively listening while surrounded by plants, bright colors and art.

Inside the in Denver’s Five Points neighborhood on a Sunday morning in March, just under a dozen participants took part in a free dance class. Instructor led a beginner-friendly samba routine that included arm movements, swaying hips and traveling steps.

I started taking classes at Moyo about six months ago after seeing one of my fellow dancer friends post about them on Instagram. My dance background runs deep: I started in middle school with jazz and ballet, added tap in high school, studied and taught African dance in early adulthood and have explored Middle Eastern forms for nearly two decades.

in Glendale has been my dance home for five years, and I love the chance to perform on stage and in the community.

One constant that had been missing in my dance journey was an environment where dance was outside the classical gaze: absent of straight arms, pointed toes, mirrors everywhere and pricey classes. That was what I found at Moyo with Jules’ classes. There was no pressure to have (or achieve) a classical dancer’s figure, and no pressure to perform.

The students were on their own path, with some who had never taken a dance class at all,  while others were adding more styles to their dance card. I had been interested in samba for several years, but my schedule was barely clear for it. Also, it felt intimidating. Moving my feet in 4-inch heels at 115 beats per minute seemed unapproachable.

Jules emphasized samba’s roots as we danced barefoot or in sneakers. The steps reached about 85 beats per minute, a slower speed than what you may see performed live. The movement recalled samba’s Afro-Brazilian roots as a form of community and religious practices. It’s part of Jules’ mission to de-colonize dance by stripping away the Western practices that have been added to cultural dances like samba, hip-hop and belly dance.

She dives deeper into this philosophy with a podcast and upcoming performance in late May focusing on how dance is a form of self-healing and a celebration of heritage. Dancers shared their stories about how they arrived at this art form and their attachment to movement.

Sunday classes alternate between samba and belly dance. While I had no samba experience before joining Moyo, I was a longtime belly dancer. I could get back to learning the basics and being carefree. I saw new dancers get lost in the movements, surrendering to what made me love this dance form many years ago. That’s a transformation that never gets too old to watch.

The space at Moyo was mellow, with a tea station featuring multiple blends, and sometimes classes end with cupcakes from . Some of the best conversations I’ve had surrounding dance have arisen over tea and sweets here.

The free dance classes are part of Moyo’s Each One Teach One, a series of community arts programs that include martial arts, crafting, children’s programs, DJing and more. Funding comes from the Colorado Health Foundation, Black Resilience in Colorado, Denver Arts and Venues and The Eulipions Fund, among others. Bathsheba Walker, who has been with Moyo Center since 1992, described the center’s mission as a means to “leverage cultural arts and technology to create experiences where people discover hidden strengths, find purpose and deepen connections with others.”

These classes are my weekend reset. The discussions and movements I absorb from them rewire my brain and remind me why I keep returning to dance.

Free walk-in samba and belly dance classes are offered from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. on Sundays at Moyo Nguvu Cultural Arts Center, 617 22nd St., in Denver’s Five Points. 

When it comes to finding the right cannabidiol (CBD) product for your dog, even experts say that it’s a process of trial and error. And with the myriad tinctures and treats available, where do you even start?

Perhaps with a word-of-mouth recommendation. In my household, we keep chewable CBD dog treats around as a staple, especially since my dog Woody’s recent surgery to remedy a partially-torn ACL.

Though the perceived benefits of doggy CBD are often shared anecdotally through pet owners, researchers have found it helps some four-legged friends with symptoms of anxiety and pain from inflammation and degenerative diseases. One vet told me that he recommends a CBD regimen for every pet that is senior in age or dealing with a degenerative joint disease.

That was enough for me to seek out something for Woody, who spent the better part of a year limping and in pain due to his ACL tear. (His injury was treated as a pulled muscle for many months before we discovered the root cause of his limping was ligament-related.)

I was first introduced to Bad Apple Pets last year, after sharing Woody’s plight with a fellow cannabis journalist and dog mom whose husband began making CBD pet treats in 2021. She gave me samples of the , each of which is infused with 5 milligrams of full-spectrum CBD.

Vets recommend full-spectrum products in lieu of CBD isolate, even though they contain small amounts of tetrahydrocannabinol or THC, which can be toxic for dogs. That’s because maintaining an array of cannabinoids and terpenes in a product — versus removing them — helps bolster the effects of the CBD, .

For Woody, the effects were almost immediately noticeable. Within 30 minutes of eating one of the treats, his interest in mail delivery trucks approaching our house declines and his penchant for naps increases — both very beneficial when recovering from major surgery. Not only that, Woody has become obsessed with the chews because they are so delicious. (I’m drawing this characterization from the amount of drool that hits my floor every time I even so much as crinkle the bag.)

Why vets recommend CBD to treat dogs with chronic pain and anxiety

Kurt Kinneman, owner of Bad Apple Pets, said the secret to doggie delectability is in the ingredients. Kinneman first developed the recipe while working at a bakery in hopes of creating healthy granola bars for human consumption. But once he learned about the benefits of CBD for animals, Kinneman pivoted to make a pet treat.

The Doggie Dreams Serenity Chews ($14.99-$19.99) feature peanut butter, oats, oat bran, flax meal, eggs, honey and coconut oil, plus CBD oil made from hemp grown on Kinneman's family farm in Wisconsin. Bad Apple Pets also sells a CBD tincture ($29.99) that can be administered sublingually or put on top of dog food, as well as CBD balm ($29.99) for itchy or irritated skin.

Kinneman, who previously worked at a hemp cultivation in Oregon, knew CBD could help other dogs after first seeing improvement in his own wire-haired Weimaraner mix, Lucy. Before she passed last year, the treats helped her skin and ear health improve, effectively eliminating the chronic yeast infections in her ears, Kinneman said.

Perhaps it����ap worth noting that, just like humans, dogs’ response to CBD is subjective. Dr. Steph McGrath, a veterinary neurologist and an associate professor at Colorado State University, previously told me that while some dogs see benefits from CBD, others don’t seem to be affected by it. Nonetheless, CBD is safe for dogs unless they have liver issues, so owners looking for a remedy for their pets’ condition should feel comfortable giving it a shot.

Kinneman has heard numerous stories from pet owners over the years about how their pups have benefited from CBD.

“Many tell us their senior dogs are acting like puppies again. Others say their pets can finally relax when company comes over or a thunderstorm arrives,” he said. “And while all animals react to CBD a little differently, the fact that so many pets have seen positive results is what keeps us going.”

For more information, visit .

I’m impressed by physical spaces that can gather sub-sections of music lovers together and encourage them to share that music with others.

is that rare place for DJs and record collectors, especially those seeking used soul, funk, hip-hop and jazz vinyl. That’s a unique set of stock among record stores in Denver. Many of the selections available at the shop, at 1255 Delaware St., are full of rhythm and groove and are begging to be heard out loud in public.

I should know. I’m a DJ.

I won’t tell you where I spin, nor what my stage name is. It’s not my full-time job, after all. I play vinyl occasionally, in bars mostly, late into the night. A lot of that music is rap and R&B from the 1990s and early 2000s. Recollect has entire sections dedicated to these periods. Shelves are separated by albums and DJ-friendly 12-inch singles.

Other spots in the ample showroom offer international records broken down by region and genre, like gospel, rock, folk, reggae and electronic music. Except for the budget bins, the pricing is dependent on the market, which values rarity and quality. At Recollect, one can find a perfectly acceptable copy of a 1970s soul record for $15, a Venezuelan music compilation for $7, and a treasured jazz album for over $100.

“We try to have a little bit of something for everything,” owner Austin Matthews told The Denver Post in 2017, a year after opening the shop. “We try to carry more obscure, rare stuff. You might find stuff in our store that you can’t find elsewhere.”

Recollect is a clean and airy store. (There is even hand sanitizer on the checkout counter.) The records are kept in clear plastic sleeves in neat browsing racks that extend up, down and across the shop.

Cheaper records are stacked underneath the main racks and at the end of the aisles. Records in an adjoining room in the back are $3 each.

Small shops like this — offering curated, used records for reasonable prices — can sometimes be modest to a fault. Recollect is open for a limited time each week, and it lacks a storefront sign that would make it more identifiable for passersby and other record collectors.

Despite all my obsessive record browsing, I had not visited Recollect until earlier this month, when I accompanied a friend who was looking to grab some music for a gig at a local listening bar that night. Once inside, the daylight gleaming in from the windows and bebop coming from the shop speakers cast me in my element.

When I wasn’t ducking into the Latin records, I was crouching away from view, flipping for bargain dance tracks. After scanning the hip-hop records, I veered over to the front of the shop, where the 7-inch “45s” are kept in thick white boxes labeled alphabetically by genre.

For $35, I came home with records in the aforementioned sections, including Quincy Jones’ album “You’ve Got It Bad Girl” (the one sampled by the Pharcyde in “Passin’ Me By”); a Giorgio Moroder track from 1985; and a spoken-word recording about the history of communications released in 1964 by Smithsonian Folkways, the recording label of the Smithsonian Institution. Later, I dropped $2 more on a 7-inch of Roberta Flack’s “Gone Away” I found by the entry.

I can’t wait to play these records to a crowd, to get their reaction when they catch a groove that had gone silent for a moment, however brief or long that music was resting in the crates. Denver’s residents deserve these kinds of experiences, ones that feed a love for musical discovery and exploration.

Recollect Records is open Thursday through Sunday from 12 to 5 p.m. The shop is celebrating its 10th anniversary on Saturday, April 18, with an in-store show featuring Queens rapper Large Professor, one of several events that record stores are holding as part of the national Record Store Day promotion.

I’ve only been snowshoeing a few times in my life, and to be honest, it was one of those activities that sounds a lot more fun than it is — despite the sincere recommendations of friends and fellow writers over the years.

Here’s what I’ve encountered so far: a lot of ice and dirt and crusty layers of snow. I’ve been on trails where those layers required a lot of stomping, or falling through the snow — or what outdoorsy types call “postholing.” The trails have sometimes been difficult to find, and the carved-out tracks don’t always fit the width of the snowshoes. Pictures I’ve seen of people snowshoeing make it look so pretty — with people tramping through powder under blue skies. I haven’t really found that to be the case.

Last year, my wife and I snowshoed to a hut near Tennessee Pass. On our way back down the next morning, we took another path, walking with just our boots and some microspikes to help us keep our footing. And, honestly, it was a lot more fun.

That wasn’t the first time I’d used microspikes (there are many brands of these slip-on traction devices, including MICROspikes). Because, let’s face it, I am no longer young. And I am occasionally grumpy.

A few years earlier, after complaining about how difficult it was getting for me to walk on the ice, especially in the mountain towns we visit, my wife got me a pair. I loved them. Not only did they make it easier for me to walk in parks and open spaces, but I could go for hikes in the winter and the shoulder seasons without worrying about slipping and falling or, you know, just looking to others like a white-tailed deer fawn trying to take its first steps on a frozen-over pond.

I now own two pairs of spiked traction devices — my son got me the second pair, so I guess the complaining paid off — and a set of Yaktrax, which are more for walking on mixed terrain since their metal traction pieces are flatter than spikes. And I’ve done more walking in the winter than ever before, as well as in the shoulder seasons, when mud can turn into ice overnight.

I haven’t needed them as much this year since 2025-26 has turned into the winter-that-wasn’t, but I love keeping them in my hiking backpack just in case. Some outdoors enthusiasts don’t like these kinds of spikes because they feel like they can tear up the ground or give ice-climbing mountaineers a false sense of security. Since I am in no danger of trying to scale Longs Peak in the middle of winter, though (or ever, frankly), I think they provide a real sense of security.

Sorry, snowshoes.

Editor’s note: This is part of The Know’s series, Staff Favorites. Each week, we give our opinions on the best that Colorado has to offer for dining, shopping, entertainment, outdoor activities and more. (We’ll also let you in on some hidden gems.)

The fastest way to a writer’s heart is often through his brain, however cobwebby and ink-stained it may be.

That’s how hooked me when it launched in June 2024, boasting it was “the first magazine with an AI-free guarantee.” The promise that humans created all words and images runs counter to the bro-tech culture of artificial intelligence that has infected and degraded Hollywood and social media like brain-eating amoebae.

The Denver Post and other publications are currently suing generative AI companies OpenAI and Microsoft for stealing copyrighted work for their plagiarism machines, so you can imagine why Denverse’s message appealed to me. Fortunately, the magazine has fulfilled its promise with quarterly, jam-packed print issues that contain savvy, original writing and illustrations you can’t find anywhere else.

It’s ad- and subscription-based, and offers perks such as exclusive live shows and citywide discounts to supporters, along with a year-old podcast called . It’s also widely distributed around town, and the newsletter is free. The magazine deserves every member of its fast-growing audience, particularly as news media retreats from arts and culture journalism, and working artists and creatives are increasingly priced out of every aspect of their practice.

With a tone at once sophisticated and impish, Denverse already belongs up there with the city’s historically great, independent magazines that sport national-quality writing and art, ranging from to and , .

Denverse is leading the charge, and the staff and contributors have asserted themselves as essential voices in Denver’s creative scene. A look at any 70-page, full-color issue includes acclaimed and award-winning writers, poets, musicians, comedians, painters, cartoonists, chefs, podcasters and teachers.

Some are established names that have appeared in local and national media (see cartoonist Karl Christian Krumpholz) while others, such as Team Nonexistent singer-guitarist (who reviewed local records for the Winter 2026 issue), represent Denver’s young vanguard. As the leader of a ferocious queer punk band, LaBelle-Plott brings much-needed perspective to a music scene that can easily default to dude-ly, folk-rock orthodoxy and misogyny.

It’s all just meaty and long-form enough to stand out, but it ain’t academia. Inviting features on Robert Redford and Sundance, pickup basketball, Denver’s Sapphic renaissance, Colfax Avenue, and noise rock grace the newest issue, among many others. With its wry cartoons, poetry and art, it comes off like a Colorado version of The New Yorker.

Denver has lately been enjoying a grassroots explosion of fiction, poetry, music and other art forms that speak directly to our times with diverse and badly needed new voices. Denverse gives you a front-row seat for all of it.

Learn more at .

It’s dumpling month at The Denver Post.

We are in the midst of determining who has the best dumplings in Denver in our food challenge bracket, and even visited a cafe to get a lesson in making them for the Lunar New Year in February.

But dumplings, of course, aren’t exclusive to Asia. Italy has its fair share, with tortellini, agnolotti, capunsei, gnocchi, canederli, turle, strangolapreti and ravioli. Greece has feta dumplings, Chile has chapalele, and Germany has dampfnudel. You will find kroppkaka in Sweden, kundiumi and pelmeni in Russia, papanasi in Romania and uszka in Ukraine.

And those aren’t even every variety of dumpling out there.

I’m Polish, and grew up eating (and then making) pierogi, mostly filled with potato and cheese (everyone’s favorite) or with cabbage and kraut. Over the years, we’ve gone a bit out of the box, making dumplings filled with pork and green chile, or blueberries, pizza fixin’s, pumpkin puree, cheeseburger and other crazy ingredients.

Then, in the fall, a trip to New England to leaf-peep and introduce a friend to my childhood home and East Coast family led me to a new adaptation.

We made stops in western Massachusetts, then headed east to Cape Cod and Provincetown, and up to New Hampshire and Maine, before swinging back down through Rhode Island and Connecticut. Along the way, we sampled regional delicacies, like New York-style pizza (the best kind), Maine lobster, fish and chips, fried clams and clam chowder — and discovered one amazing dumpling.

It was in Boston that we spotted a mushroom and onion pierogi over beet puree and topped with frizzled leeks on the brunch menu at restaurant. I’ve been making an adapted version of my grandmother’s Polish pierogi for most of my life, and the flavor combination and beauty of this little restaurant appetizer ($13 for three) truly blew me away.

So, at our annual pierogi-making party back in Denver in November — with the help of my traveling pal TJ and my nieces, who dined with us at Sloane’s that day — we recreated the dish, to rave reviews. The earthy subtlety of the beet puree complements the mushrooms, and the crunchy leeks add texture. Pyszne (delicious). And it’s so beautiful.

Mushroom and Onion Pierogi over Pureed Beets

Makes about 6 dozen, depending on size. Source: Original recipe from “Treasured Polish Recipes for Americans” (Allegro Editions), inspired by a dish at Sloane’s restaurant in Boston and adapted by Barbara Ellis.

Ingredients

For the filling:

• 2 16-ounce containers shiitake mushrooms, chopped small
• 2 sweet onions, diced fine
• 4 egg yolks
• Salted butter
• Garlic powder
• Salt
• Pepper
• Instant mashed potatoes or plain breadcrumbs (optional)
• Gravy Master or other browning liquid (optional)
• Pierogi dough (recipe below)

For serving:

• 1 pint beet and sour cream salad (available at European markets; see cook’s note below)
• 1 teaspoon lemon juice
• 1 leek
• Neutral oil for frying

Directions

1. Saute onions in butter. Add mushrooms.
2. Season with salt, pepper and garlic powder. Cook until liquid evaporates. Add browning liquid if desired.
3. Remove from heat; add egg yolks. Toss in instant mashed potatoes or bread crumbs to firm up the filling if the mixture is very wet.
4. Cool before filling dough rounds.
5. Place a small amount in the center of the dough round and pinch to seal edges. (Use a small amount of water around the edge if needed to get a complete seal; otherwise they could burst when boiling.)
6. Gently boil the pierogi in salted water for 4-7 minutes, until dough whitens. Don’t overcrowd the pot, and stir gently to be sure they don’t stick to the bottom.
7. Remove the pierogi with slotted spoon, drain and then brush with melted butter.

To serve:

1. Slice a leek into thin strips and fry in hot oil until crispy. Remove with slotted spoon and drain on paper towel.
2. Puree the beet salad with the lemon juice in blender or food processor.
3. Fry the pierogi in a small pan until golden brown.
4.  Spread a heaping spoonful of puree on plate. Place a few pierogi in center and top with frizzled leeks.

Cook’s notes: If you can’t find shiitake mushrooms, white mushrooms will suffice. You could make your own beet puree from fresh beets and sour cream, but we found the ready-made beet salad from our local European Market, M&I on Leestdale Avenue in Denver, did the trick.

Pierogi Dough

From Jay Kruzel of Chicopee, Mass. Makes enough for about 8 dozen pierogi, depending on size and thickness of each dough round.

Ingredients

• 2 cups semolina flour
• 4 cups flour
• About 2 cups whole milk
• 1 egg
• 4-5 tablespoons sour cream

Directions

1. In a medium bowl, mix semolina and flour.
2. In a 2-cup glass measuring cup, mix 1 egg and 4-5 tablespoons sour cream (the amount depends on how dry it is the day you are making the dough). Beat well. Add milk up to the 2-cup line and mix. Heat in microwave, 30 seconds or so at a time, until lukewarm (not hot).
3. Pour the liquid into the flour mixture a little at a time, mixing as you go. Try to gather up as much of the flour as possible, but it’s not necessary to mix it all together. You’ll do that in the next step.
4. Turn out onto a floured board or countertop and knead. Dough should be slightly tacky.
5. Let rest at room temperature, covered by a clean, wet kitchen towel or cloth, at least 20 minutes.
6. Cut away a small amount at a time to make dough rounds, either with a pasta maker (we do thickness levels of 1, 3 and 4, but you may like the dough thinner) or a rolling pin.

Notes: If it’s a very dry day out, add more liquid (milk) to the dough. Leftover dough can be refrigerated overnight or wrapped in plastic wrap, placed in an airtight bag and frozen for up to three months. Do not use if it becomes discolored.

When it comes to television, I am a faithful reality series fan.

From dating shows like “Love Island,” “Love is Blind” and “Married at First Sight” to docusoaps like “Secret Lives of Mormon Wives” and makeovers like “Queer Eye” – no program is too fringe that I won’t give it a chance.

So when I recently found myself in between seasons of “Below Deck” and experiencing a dearth of “The Real Housewives” content, I decided to turn on “The Traitors” for the first time. It quickly became my new TV obsession.

For those unfamiliar, “The Traitors” is a reality TV game show featuring well-known personalities from other reality series, who spend a couple of weeks sequestered in a Scottish castle competing for money. The whole cast competes as a group in absurd and macabre challenges as they try to add cash to their collective pot of winnings. A select group of so-called traitors — secretly appointed by actor Alan Cummings, the show’s host doing the absolute most — work behind the scenes to sabotage the rest of the cast, who are known as faithfuls. Each night, the traitors eliminate one faithful by figuratively murdering them, ending their time on the show.

The traitors’ goal is to conceal their identities until the end of the game, because if they survive, they will hijack the winnings. Faithfuls also have chances to banish traitors by voting them out of the castle during a nightly event called the roundtable.

It’s a game of trust and betrayal, of gossip and groupthink. The whole plot is excessive, campy and over-the-top — and it works because the participants are, too.

The most recent season featured icons of fashion, glamor and drama, such as Lisa Rinna of “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills,” “RuPaul’s Drag Race” star Monét X Change, and Colton Underwood of “The Bachelor.” There were also famous faces from other places in pop culture, such as Olympic figure skaters Tara Lipinski and Johnny Weir, and comedian Ron Funches.

Big personalities playing over-sensationalized versions of themselves in a lavish castle with the couture to match, “The Traitors” is like the ultimate escapist version of reality TV in that it is so far removed from reality it feels like watching a live-action fantasy.

In one episode, for example, the participants join Cummings in the castle’s dining hall for a gathering henceforth known as the Black Banquet. Cummings has tasked the traitors with committing a murder in plain sight — meaning they have to convince a faithful player to touch a jeweled brooch in front of everyone else without raising suspicions. That person is then cursed and slated for murder.

The setting, characters and costumes place viewers squarely in a whimsical world, though that all gets starkly juxtaposed against real human nature when Cummings offers the players an antidote that will save them should they be revealed as the traitors’ secret sacrifice. Paranoia overtakes several players who vie for protection. It turns out to be for naught — the wrong players drink the antidotes and the cursed faithful gets escorted out by two individuals in hooded cloaks.

Ridiculous and over-dramatized? Yes. Addicting television? Absolutely.

Part of “The Traitors” success comes from the character development, and watching each player navigate balancing their own integrity and intuition with the fear they could be next on the chopping block. Showing leadership is a good way to build alliances, but if misconstrued for over-confidence, the whole group could turn on you. One misstep and all fingers point your way.

In several episodes, viewers see participants acting decisively and self-assured in private conversations, only to show up to the roundtable and completely change their thinking. The show is something of a case study in group dynamics and the power of manipulation. It may also make you reflect on your own personal biases.

Like, what exactly makes a person trustworthy? And how would you prove your own innocence when public perception is stacked against you? Comedian Funches spent numerous episodes defending his honor as a faithful, as the other players nit-picked his actions and reserved demeanor. Few believed him until he was banished from the castle and forced to reveal he was, in fact, on the right side of the game.

“The Traitors” Season 4 finale aired on Feb. 26 on Peacock, which means by the time you read this, the fate of the faithfuls and the identities of the traitors will be revealed. But if you’re not invested yet, all the better, as I find this show is best binge-watched versus kept up with week-to-week. Now that I’ve developed a taste for mock murder, I can’t wait to watch all the previous seasons I missed.

Some guys have bachelor parties that are X-rated. My son’s best man had a better idea: Dinner at family-friendly Casa Bonita, which is as G-rated as you can get.

It was an ingenious choice, and I’m still enjoying the fruits of that night last December: the iconic restaurant’s delicious house salsa, which they call Salsa Casa. I liked it so much that I currently have two jars in my refrigerator.

And when they’re gone, I will order more. I love this salsa with chips, but I also use it on tacos. No more grocery store salsa for me.

I hadn’t been to Casa Bonita since my daughter worked there 17 years ago, fresh out of high school. Before we explored Black Bart’s Cave, crammed into the puppet show and admired the cliff divers, we had an excellent dinner. I was shocked at how much I liked the salsa.

Obviously, salsa preferences are very subjective and personal. I’m sure some would say the Salsa Casa isn’t hot enough. Some, no doubt, would find it too hot. I thought it was just right, with lots of flavor.

According to the jar, ingredients include diced tomatoes (blended to a fine texture), jalapeños, onions, salt, garlic, cilantro, lemon juice, black pepper, coriander and cumin.

I knew better than to ask Casa Bonita’s PR team for the actual recipe — they are very secretive, after all — but I did want to know if it was developed in-house. They informed me that it is an “improved version of the original Salsa Casa recipe,” and was developed by celebrated Denver chef Dana Rodriguez when the kitchen was revamping the menu. I wanted to interview her, but Casa Bonita didn’t want that, either.

I hope someone there will tell her how much I like her salsa.

Jars have depictions of the famous pink tower and a “daring” cliff diver making a splash. The owners, Matt Stone and Trey Parker of “South Park,” have also reclaimed the restaurant’s old motto, “The Greatest Restaurant In The World,” which is also written on the jar. With a declaration like that, the salsa had better be good.

Salsa Casa is sold ($9.95 for a 16-ounce jar) in the restaurant’s gift shop, El Mercado, and is . They also sell Green Chile and “Muy Hot Sauce.” They can be bought in a three-pack with Salsa Casa for $16.95.

I knew our Casa Bonita bachelor party would be unforgettable. I’m glad I’ll be reminded of that night every time I hit the couch to watch a game with chips and salsa.

A buffet is my weakness.

I have visited a half-dozen buffets in metro Denver in the last six months. The one that has had me as a repeat customer is in South Denver.

I have only started enjoying Mediterranean cuisine in the last five years – outside of Greek festivals and visits to friends – so my love for its foods is just starting. When I learned that Denver has a buffet featuring it, it was time to try it out.

The reason I love to dine at buffets? I’m indecisive. I pull into a restaurant����ap parking lot, craving a steak-and-potatoes entree, and walk through the entrance wanting seafood. If it����ap on the menu, I get overwhelmed; when everything is in sight, I like to get a taste of everything. Sawa offers a diverse selection of Sudanese and Middle Eastern items, along with Mediterranean favorites, broadening the palate’s exposure to a wider range of flavors.

My first plate: samosas and falafel. The samosas come in beef, chicken and vegetable. The flaky pockets are nicely filled with a distinct flavor profile. The falafel patties are heartier than the average fried ball, as each has more vegetables stuffed inside. They remind me of hushpuppies.

For the main entrees, meats are paired with flavored or plain Basmati rice. Marinated grilled chicken is a constant on the buffet, served with onions. One of my favorites is peanut chicken, a spicy Sudanese dish in a peanut-tomato sauce that I enjoy with rice. Baked fish is a lighter alternative, and biryani — a rice dish with chicken or lamb — is worth exploring. To ease your way into Mediterranean fare, Sawa offers gyros and even Philly cheesesteaks on the buffet. Pasta and meatballs get a twist with kofta spaghetti – lamb and beef meatballs in tomato sauce with noodles.

Hummus, baba ghanoush and a house salad are among the buffet����ap cold items, but unfortunately, there is no pita bread. But don’t worry, carb lovers – the samosas and desserts will fulfill your needs. Desserts include the delightful baklava, the honey-sweetened pastry made with or without nuts, and a semolina cake called basbosa.

If buffets aren’t your thing, the entrees on Sawa’s buffet are also available off the menu.

Sawa Restaurant and Buffet, 1737 E. Evans Ave., Denver, 720-505-8937. Open Friday to Saturday, 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., and Sunday, 11 a.m. to 9 p.m.

Slow cookers are bulky, unattractive in their signature oval way and require a lot of thinking ahead to use. They are the antithesis of quick and easy fast food.

So why am I seeing so many of them recently at house parties?

I’m a middle-of-the-road millennial with aging millennial friends. Birthday parties and holiday gatherings now come with babies, sober friends and the paternal instinct to grow a mustache. I don’t know how many of us can handle the slog of a night on the town or the shock of a loud “SURPRISE!” coming from the shadows. That might make our hearts palpitate.

Enter the slow cooker. At the last two house parties I’ve attended, both this winter in Denver, slow cookers filled with simmering bean soups and chilis have stolen the show from the respective birthday boy. They lined the kitchen islands or rested on top of furniture next to Dixie-brand paper bowls, plastic spoons and an assortment of toppings. There was still a cooler full of ice and beer and seltzers on the floor. It just didn’t get the love the slow cookers did.

The slow cookers offered warmth and nourishment. They gave us a chance to sit down and catch up with friends we hadn’t seen in months, maybe a year, whose babies had grown older. They allowed us all to engage in very simple, quiet communal bonding that I hadn’t felt in a long time, not since living in Minneapolis.

A colleague and senior reporter at the local paper there would invite us to his house to watch the Super Bowl and other Minnesota sporting events. He’d make chili parties, featuring his own meat and vegetarian concoctions, and invite guests to bring their own slow cookers, too. I’d plop sour cream and shredded cheddar on top of serving and roam the room. At one of these watch parties in October 2017, the Twins lost to the Yankees in a wild-card game.

Winter lasts a dastardly long time in Minnesota. The snow accumulates into blocks of ice that turn grey from trash and passing car fumes. When the home team loses, the cold snaps extra hard. It seemed then that the slow cooker and its contents were the hearty consolation prize, and in the end all that was needed.

Later this month, I’ll be attending a “Souper Bowl” party. The host is asking guests to bring our best soup to compete for the “Golden Ladle.”

In fact, Super Bowls are terrific opportunities to break out the slow cooker. (Just remember to properly store the finished dish: My last attempt at making something in a slow cooker — a chili that took about six hours to prepare — mostly ended up in the trash when I left it out overnight.)

This year — especially since the Broncos aren’t in it — don’t make it just about the game. Make it about the food and the people you’re bringing together.

Here’s a bacon-rich chili that can be made on a stovetop or in a slow cooker. My friend David Burchfield adapted it for his birthday party earlier this year. It comes from , a website and blog run by Ali Martin ( on Instagram).

Ultimate Chili

Serves 6-8. Source: Gimme Some Oven (gimmesomoven.com), by Ali Martin.

Ingredients

• 5 ounces diced pancetta (or 5 slices of diced thick-cut bacon)
• 1 3/4 pounds ground beef
• 1 medium white onion, peeled and diced
• 1 medium red bell pepper, cored and diced
• 1 jalapeño, cored and diced
• 4 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
• 1 bottle (1 1/2 cups) beer
• 1 1/2 cups beef stock
• 2 15-ounce cans fire-roasted diced tomatoes, with their juices
• 2 15-ounce cans beans of your choice, rinsed and drained
• 1 4-ounce can diced green chiles
• 1 chipotle chili in adobo sauce, diced (plus 1 teaspoon adobo sauce)
• 1 tablespoon chili powder
• 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• Sea salt and freshly-cracked black pepper
• Toppings: diced avocado, chopped fresh cilantro, diced green or red onions, shredded cheddar cheese, sour cream, lime wedges, and/or crumbled corn tortilla chips

Directions

1. Heat a large stockpot over medium-high heat. Add the pancetta (or bacon) and sauté for 3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the ground beef and sauté until browned and cooked through, stirring and crumbling with a wooden spoon as it cooks. Use a slotted spoon to transfer the cooked meat to a clean plate and set it aside, reserving 1 tablespoon of grease in the pot. (If there is more grease in the pot, discard it.)
2. Add the onion, red pepper and jalapeño to the stockpot and sauté for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until softened.  Add garlic and sauté for 2 more minutes, stirring occasionally.
3. Add the beer to the stockpot, and use a wooden spoon to gently scrape up any browned bits that are stuck to the bottom of the pot.  Add the cooked beef and pancetta (or bacon), beef stock, tomatoes, beans, green chiles, chipotle chili in adobo, chili powder, smoked paprika and cumin, and stir to combine.  Continue cooking until the chili reaches a simmer.
4. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover and continue to simmer the chili for 20 minutes.
5. Taste and season with salt and pepper, as needed.  (Feel free to also add in extra chili powder or cumin, if you think it is needed.)
6. Serve immediately, piled high with all of your favorite toppings.

Alternately: Combine all the ingredients in a slow cooker and cook on high for 4 hours or low for 6-8 hours. Finish with steps 5 and 6. Or, complete Step 1 (and 2, optionally) on the stovetop. Add those sautéed ingredients to the slow cooker, as well as all the other ingredients. Cook as directed above.