Remember when you were 20 and by some means were given away with ordering an alcoholic drink at an eating place? The pleasure of it, from inquiring about it until that first sip, made you feel bold and capable of anything.
There’s a thrill inside the risqué, but I’m not always following the guidelines. To a greater diploma, excitement is what tingled down the spines of bootleggers at some point during Prohibition. It’s a sense we get a touch toward while we visit the numerous Prohibition-generation bars that have found keen audiences around the metropolis. (Think of Williams & Graham and Green Russell, although the Cruise Room is the OG in this category.)
One of the most current additions to this group is the Arvada Tavern. An abrupt hip joint at the increasing number of hip strips on Olde Wadsworth Boulevard in Olde Town Arvada, the Arvada Tavern has been some version of a watering hole since 1933. (In reality, the spot held Arvada’s first tavern license.) When contemporary owner/operators Lenka Juchelkova and Mike Huggins took over in 2012, they “tried to convey it back to what it represented within the Nineteen Forties,” Huggins says. “A stylish operation.” (The husband-and-wife crew also runs the Tatarian, Union Lodge No. 1, and Kline’s Beer Hall.)
At this dimly lit, pleasant spot, the cocktail software is the superstar, with a menu jam-filled with a who’s who (what’s what?) of conventional tipples. The tastiest seasonal American fare, dusted with European effects, can be located in most shareable appetizers instead of the unremarkable entrées. Give the Arvada Tavern an attempt yourself — so long as you’re of age (if you’re drinking, this is).
Vibe: Juchelkova and Huggins evoke the Forties—and honor the venue’s records—with a prefab, Art Deco-style bar, partitions decorated with vintage images, and aproned bartenders. Black cubicles, excessive tops, a brick wall, and masses of wood flesh out the tavern vibe. The reputedly out-of-location “Coors beer” signal within the dining room is from the same year because of the blade signal that once frolicked the front. The precise perch people watch on balmy evenings is a small, Avenue-facing patio.
Hits: When unsure, order whatever you can proportion. The top half of the menu is where chef Jordon Copple is at his first class. There’s the house-made German pretzel ($thirteen), a monument to carbs. A small loaf of bread that wants to be a pretzel has a chewy, golden-brown crust sprinkled with salt. Cut off a bit and slide it through the thick Pueblo inexperienced chili-studded cheese sauce. Repeat as favored.
Pierogis ($14) is another must-get. Sourced from Wheat Ridge’s Pierogies Factory, the crisp, fried exteriors provide a flavorful potato and cheese (our choice) or red meat filling. For an extra $2, diners will have them served “grimy” or covered in cheese sauce, which we recommend because the spicy ranch-esque sauce that the little pockets arrive with is a mismatch.
If the summer season has you wondering if you want a hint of green with each meal, opt for one of the massive salads. The menu is in the process of changing to be closer to the cease date of last month. However, the harvest salad ($12), which has since been swapped for a simpler spring salad ($10), becomes a vivid tangle of combined greens, Brussels sprouts, butternut squash, almonds, chickpeas, and feta tossed with honey-Dijon French dressing.
The Chile Verde ($8) appears more like an inexperienced chile, but the flavor profile is spot-on. Roasted pork is cooked to a supple texture, and the mixture of Pueblo green chiles, fire-roasted tomatoes, and tomatillos satisfies a Southwestern craving. If most effective, it was a touch spicier.
The Arvada burger ($15) is a classic combination of Colorado red meat, melted cheddar cheese, and LTO topped with bacon jam and garlic aioli.
