Meat of the Matter

When the people behind Prime 121 decided to bring yet another steakhouse to this crowded cow town, they were taking on quite a challenge (see review). But it's been done very successfully a couple of times in the past few years, by operations that managed to jam yet another top-shelf filet mignon into Denver's already overstuffed steak hole and become an integral part of the dining landscape.

Any list of successful Denver steakhouses must necessarily begin with the Capital Grille (1450 Larimer Street), arguably the best in the city. The chain — Capital Grille is part of the Darden Restaurants group, responsible for such horrors as the Olive Garden and Red Lobster brands — came into Denver with a reputation for catering to nouveau-riche, pre-bust dot-commers, savage yuppies and expense-account millionaires, and poured in excess of $4 million into a buildout in what had previously been open land in the middle of Denver's most booming restaurant block. More important, though, Capital Grille came with a deep understanding of what a steakhouse customer wants and a sharp awareness of what it takes to thrive in an overcrowded market. The owners, managers, chefs, cooks, servers, hostesses, busboys, even the contract valets, all knew exactly how good they had to be because Capital Grille told them how good they had to be, then trained them — often paying to have prospective employees sent out of state for sink-or-swim educations in one of their already operating locations. The result? From the minute the door opened, no restaurant in Denver had service like Capital Grille's. From door to bar to table and back again, theirs was the best — the kind of service where, when you drop a fork, someone's there to catch it on the first bounce and has already called in three friends as backup: one to replace the fork, one to polish the floor and a third to apologize profusely, assure you that such a mishap was entirely the fault of the house and offer you a cocktail to calm your nerves after such an ordeal.

This was the first place I ever noticed the padding on the tables, ever saw color-coordinated napkins offered so that a white linen napkin wouldn't leave fuzz or an errant string on a customer's black trousers. And then there were those knives. Trouble is, it's often difficult to notice all these niceties because Capital Grille is often so busy that all you see is an endless, throbbing sea of yuppies and their ilk. No lie, I've been to the place on nights when I could barely get five feet inside the door before running up against an immovable press at the bar. And though I am not above throwing a few elbows to get to the man with the whiskey, it wouldn't have mattered here. The only difference between Friday happy hour at Capital Grille and the stage-apron mosh pit at a Revolting Cocks show is that the crush at Capital Grille smelled a little better and not quite as many people were getting punched directly in the face.

Even so, Capital Grille has amazing front-of-house skills. It makes every single customer (no matter how runty, Irish or drunk) feel like they're special just because they had the taste and wisdom to come here, as opposed to going anywhere else. That's a nice trick, and one that quickly made Capital Grille a destination beefateria in a town that already had plenty.

A year later, Elway's (2500 East First Avenue) managed to pull off a similar maneuver. Of course, Elway's had an unfair advantage: namely, Big John himself. In this town, John Elway could open a business where he'd kick your grandma for five dollars, and he'd have a line out the door and around the block. Still, Elway's did not hang all of its hopes on celebrity. The partners also managed to put a rare (and distinctively Colorado) spin on the standard steakhouse concept. This is a steakhouse with a sense of humor (shrimp cocktails served over smoking dry ice, do-it-yourself s'mores), one that has foregone the traditional clubby, dark wood trappings of steakhouse decor in favor of a lighter, brighter and more modern approach, and positioned itself as the Everyman's steakhouse — provided, that is, Everyman has enough scratch to cover the tab. At Elway's, the service may not be as flawlessly exacting as at Capital Grille, but it is more personable, occasionally more charming. I've had waiters tell long and seemingly pointless stories about their children, others who've sat with me quietly mocking other customers who, a few too many Scotches to the wind, were grossly hitting on cocktail waitresses young enough to be their daughters. And while the steaks are good, some of the non-steak menu items are unbelievably good. The tacos, for example.