No. 35: Colorado Kitchen

Lingering in a restaurant’s restroom may not seem like a smart thing, but at this Brightwood restaurant, it has its rewards. The facilities are galleries of culinary arcana, with walls papered with typewritten recipes for such long-forgotten confections as corn-syrup frosting and cold-water sponge cake, letters from customers (one reads PLEASE GIVE ME YOUR RECIPE FOR COLLARD GREENS—I'M JEWISH), and yellowed how-tos from decades-old Gourmet magazines.

The dining room, which feels more like an eat-in kitchen, is nostalgia-drenched too. It’s crowded with jokey signs and the quirkiest salt-and-pepper-shaker collection we’ve seen. All this personality is thanks to chef/owner Gillian Clark—the lady in the floppy chef’s toque behind the counter setting upside-down cakes on cooling racks and cooking (not simply rewarming or assembling) whatever you’ve just ordered. Her food takes time—order a cauliflower gratin and the server will tell you it’ll take 20 minutes to bake. A filet of catfish, Sunday brunch’s doughnuts, even potato chips—all show up hot from the fryer. The meat for the terrific burgers is fresh, and hand-ground. Even the tartar sauce, eggy and full of fresh herbs, is from scratch.

Which is why the no-reservations place is usually crowded (if you’re coming for Sunday brunch, get in line). And why one woman’s letter on the bathroom wall reads CHEF GILLIAN—YOUR POLENTA AND HALIBUT ARE TWO OF THE BEST THINGS I'VE EVER TASTED. THANK YOU. She’s not lying.