Volume 2, Issue 16 July 20 - August 2, 2000

Bar Guide

16th and Curtis, 303-534-7616

I estimate 60% of us live under some regime of behavioral engineering. If you reside inside the walls of a covenant-controlled Lego-erected suburbia, check box one. Close to half of our occupations have us spending 40 to 60 hour workweeks in cube farms … provided you are one who breaks the relentless weekday monotony by prairie-dogging your head over the five-foot partitions at your workplace, check box two.

If you are two for two, chances are you spend a staggering amount of time going from staring at daily e-mailed Wassup! recreations to nightly Seinfeld reruns. But I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, am I? Fortunately, there is hope for such an austere lifestyle.

A few people several years ago had the shrewd foresight to make an incredible living off your very demographic. One in particular was Frank B. Day, CEO of Rock Bottom Restaurants Inc., a man who became one of the first to give your throng a place to go downtown, earning enough stripes through cultural mediocrity to earn the moniker Uncontested Ruler of All Generica.

For these folks that feel comfortable floating along wherever the mainstream chooses to take them, there is always an F.B. Day joint not far away. Built with the standard design to be a comfy haven for the white-collar crowd, these places allow them to sit back, relax and drink on craft beer while conversing in a freaky touch base, phone tag, ones and zeros language I have long since given up on understanding.

Most of us have been to the original Rock Bottom at one time or another. It's just the kind of place that is strategically located to suck you in if ever on the 16th Street Mall during some vagabond search on a do-nothing night out. Then, once inside, you might wonder why the hell you're standing in such a Plain Chain establishment.

In the tradition of most corporate amusement parks, one is first funneled by the gift shop, which comes fully equipped with an ATM in the corner ready to cater to the impulse buy. From here I would suggest sitting outside or nowhere at all, as the interior has been designed with the exacting accuracy of a commercial cookie-cutter.

The polished brewing equipment is overexposed through a multitude of windows that run through the front of the restaurant, intended to catch your wandering eye at every turn. Pictures of natural landscape hang all over the place but fail to bring the surroundings together; rather, if not a Red Rock depiction, many project off the wall as odd choices of color against the ginger walls, looking singularly obnoxious and tasteless. Exposed ductwork is meant to exhibit the long-standing tradition of a building that has been around, has seen a lot. But at the Rock Bottom, the open-ceiling look is forced and fake in all its intentions.

Step to the back and you will reach the smoking bar and pool room. This could be a quaint subdued little retreat away from the dull routine quality of the rest of the place, but they choose to have the television volume turned up in direct opposition to the mellow house music, which provides an unsettling train wreck to the ears.

Okay, then the beer must be the draw, right? Unfortunately, what I sampled was merely decent.

First, the Singletrack Copper Ale was quite good. It was very aromatic, tasted very fresh and full-flavored and maintained good sud lines. Then I ordered the Black Diamond Stout. It had a terrific appearance and carried the robust smell of dark malt, but Brewmaster McClure takes the wrong road in choosing to thin this beer in order to achieve broader appeal. Stouts have earned a reputation to be either loved or hated and should only be served as a beefy brew that demonstrates how much balls a pub has.

There were two hard-to-find cask-conditioned ales on tap, a Pale and a Brown. The brown was quite traditional and quite good. I could have gone for a little more fruity cask character, but I put it up there with the Singletrack as my co-favorite.

Red Rocks Red Ale had a nice deep tarnished color and would have been a respectable brew had it not been for the total lack of head retention. Since the other beers I had were able to keep an adequate layer of foam, I figure this one came in a dirty glass. The bartender, not the brewer, can sometimes be the culprit in a bubble breakdown.

Last, the Pear Cider is somewhere in between dry and sweet and has a crisp zesty acidic bite with a nice lingering aftertaste. It provides a pleasing change after a string of beers; however, 16 ounces of cider is a bit much. I would suggest serving it in a smaller glass.

Three other choices on the regular menu are Falcon Pale Ale, 16th Street Wheat, and Molly's Titanic Brown Ale.

Rock Bottom can hold 438 patrons and often times they push that limit, proving I am in the minority in feeling disappointed in the place. But one thing is for sure: with success has come complacency. The beer, the food and the service are all worse than the first time I darkened the door nine years ago. They seem to be resting on their laurels by relying on the after-five happy hours, boring locals that never got to know their city, and transplants drawn in like flies to heavily funded promotion.

Oh, there is live music every Friday night, but I don't see how any proud musician can get psyched up for playing in front of patrons who surely have the first button on their car radio programmed to Alice.

Pros The outside patio is open year round and is an excellent place to see the trendy adolescent beggars get chased by the law for bumming change after dark.

Cons If you're single, do you really want to pick up on one of the sheep that frequents the Frank Day scene?