Fourth Story Restaurant & Bar

John Lehndorff

Friday, May 26, 2000

Once upon a time several weeks ago, three young women in gowns with flowers in their hair and three young men in tuxes and shiny black shoes filled a table near us while we ate dinner at the Fourth Story.

I saw a wondrous sight: The waiters took the time to answer questions and to help these gourmets-to-be wend their way through the mango-habanero mojo and wasabi tobiko mignonette. The staff was never condescending nor did it rush the teens to make room for bigger tippers.

On this jam-packed Saturday night, the Fourth Story's staff treated EVERY customer in the same thoughtful way. That service speaks volumes about the nature of this 5-year-old Denver favorite.

The best way to dine at the Fourth Story is to start on the first floor in the Tattered Cover Book Store. Browse your way through three stories of books until you come to one of Denver's most welcoming waiting areas, filled with couches, cushy chairs, and hardcovers to read and buy.

Unlike the boxy building it crowns, the restaurant — with its Victorian-styled polished wood, volume-lined walls, carpeted floors and handsome bar — exudes warmth and charm.

Equally enchanting is the spring menu devised by Chris Cina, who became executive chef eight months ago after apprenticing at Aubergine and Zenith.

We started with fresh flatbreads including a crackly matzoh-like lavosh served with a cool white bean pate. Appetizer choices included asparagus with roast golden beets and hazelnuts ($8), cumin-rubbed steak salad with caramelized bananas and orange achiote vinaigrette ($10), and oysters with wasabi tobiko mignonette ($9).

I began with a truly appetizing antipasti platter ($10) sporting paper-thin Italian salami, tart goat cheese, house-made mozzarella, marinated olives, baby artichokes and smoked almonds. I made the mistake of passing the antipasti to one of my dinner mates — let's call him "Mike" — who virtually licked the plate.

I would have been happy to make a meal of the roasted Prince Edward Island mussels ($10). These black beauties — baked with garlic, lemon and olive oil — had an irresistible smoky, tangy taste. We sopped up every smudge of mollusk juice with grilled sourdough bread.

Meanwhile, the overly complicated crab and goat cheese rellenos with mango-habanero mojo ($11) wandered aimlessly across my palate leaving no trace of that habanero bite.

The huge wine bibliography here exceeded expectations. While any oenophile would sigh over Opus One '92 ($160), the half bottle selection including Veuve Cliquot Demi Sec ($35) brings great wines within reach of more modest budgets.

A mound of needle-thin chile garlic fries buried my 14-ounce natural Argentinean beef ribeye cranked-up by a green chimmichurra sauce ($24). It had a bit more chew than tenderloin and also lots more flavor.

Mike's duck confit with caramelized onion hash browns, toasted walnut au jus and duck liver pate ($22) was simply outstanding. Every manner of roasty, toasty, nutty, caramelized earthy flavor mingled in this comfort fare. The duck — tenderized through immersion in duck fat — and eaten with a dab of pate induced a case of "happy mouth." Mike said he could've used a bit more duck for his dollar, but that may have been because I ate most of it.

The pan-roasted Alaskan halibut uplifted by fresh lemon-y couscous vegetables ($20) was downright refreshing. My friend Andria concurred that the halibut's sunny disposition was the yin to the duck confit's darker, mellower yang.

Only the truffled garlic and Asiago cheese ravioli with Parmigiano-Reggiano ($13) was nondescript, with pasta that was far too chewy.

Other entrees were gnocchi with grilled asparagus ($11) and Colorado River trout with poblano and tomato sauce ($19).

Somehow, you must leave room for pastry chef Nikki McCauley's toothsome finales. I swooned over her chocolate hazelnut praline terrine with caramel mint sauce ($6). Afterwards, my wife and I mourned the final crumb of cherry almond chevre strudel with vanilla gelato ($6).

I liked the Stilton with pear walnut bread and dried fruit ($5), but NOT until the deeply chilled items warmed to room temperature. The prettiest dessert — spice-poached pear in phyllo ($6) — hid a major defect: an underripe, underpoached pear.

Our visit was not unblemished. The men's bathroom had paper strewn on the floor, graffiti on the stalls and a broken toilet tank top. A week later, similar conditions prevailed. It was disconcerting to find in a place so devoted to detail.

I returned for a weekday lunch where the menu includes some dinner specialties along with simpler pleasures such as the hearts of romaine salad with radicchio and asiago ($6), impeccably dressed with a Caesar betraying a mere hint of anchovy.

I teamed a bowl of potato, corn and green chile chowder ($5) with a smoked chicken salad sandwich ($9). The soup's creamy base left a warm afterglow.

Thank goodness for culinary restraint behind the haricot vert, red onion and pinon salad with Kalamata olive vinaigrette, which underlay the grilled ahi tuna ($12). The thin green beans were barely marinated and as crunchy as munching a bean straight from the garden.

More substantial were the hoisin pork medallions with pineapple and spicy rice noodles ($12). One of my lunchmates thought it had more heat than taste, but I enjoyed its bright flavors.

We balanced our taste buds with a commendable creme brulee ($6), boasting a luxurious custard more akin to rich vanilla pudding than the firm, eggy versions one often endures.

The Fourth Story is as happily independent as the bookstore that thrives below it, bringing together great flavors rather than emulating food from a specific region. It's not yet a cuisine he can put a signature on, but Chris Cina's fare shows great promise.

Contact John Lehndorff at (303) 892-5103 or lehndorffj@RockyMountaiNews.com.