Pigging out never looked so good

By Lori Midson, Special to the Rocky

Friday, January 25, 2008

Nothing could have been more enduringly simple or delicious than the sandwich smeared with chunky peanut butter, butter-soaked, caramelized bananas and thick-sliced, crisp-baked bacon.

I'd ordered it on a whim, after sharing plates of sweet potato fries, a grilled cheese sandwich, tomato bisque and a magnificent cheeseburger ($9) the height of the Sears Tower and width of a Frisbee. I'd ordered it because it sounded like such a quirky combination, so weird yet so right. And after just one bite, I knew I had entered the pearly white gates of the sandwich universe.

At The Berkshire, in the blossoming Stapleton area, the universe is aligned with intoxicating food, a lovely staff and animated crowds having the time of their lives.

This is the perfect neighborhood restaurant, an unpretentious, come-as-you-are, uncomplicated gathering spot for friends, couples, stroller-toting families and anyone who has never had peanut butter, bacon and bananas on buttered and grilled Hawaiian bread. If you fall into the latter category, you don't know what you're missing.

While chefs are experimenting with molecular gastronomy and petitioning for accolades for their ingenuity, The Berkshire is a playful invitation to belly up to a bar stool, banter with the regulars and pig out on pork dishes prepared by a young wunderkind whose food, while devoid of glitz and glamour, is passionate, uncommonly lively and wickedly good.

Even before The King ($7.50), which is the restaurant's given name for the Elvis-inspired sandwich that sent me into a heart-palpitating mania, I was already reciting poetry about the grilled cheese ($7), an upgraded classic of three cheeses peeking out from between buttered slices of grilled Texas toast, paired with a basil-scented tomato bisque ($5) swirled with creme fraîche and tasting of the vine.

With its floor-to-ceiling street appeal, loft-like space accented with just enough pig paraphernalia to make you snort with approval, a wooden charcuterie table heralding an old-fashioned, hand- cranked meat slicer, muted earth tones and real wax candles offering moody lighting, The Berkshire is a melange of atmospheric and informal, irreverent and earnest.

For my eyes, there are a few too many flat-screen televisions - six, to be exact - hanging from the walls, but they're tuned to the Food Network, and the silence of the screens is put to music by way of a hip repertoire of popular, age-spanning tunes.

It's a restaurant that doesn't take itself too seriously, even though the chef, Nick Wrona, is certainly proving that he has the pedigree to cook with conviction. It's apparent in something as elementary as his bacon 'n eggs salad ($8.50), a pretty romp of sprightly mixed greens topped with a jiggling, yolky egg, crumbles of crisp bacon and a tangy Dijon vinaigrette. There's bacon, too, crisscrossed atop the Kobe beef sliders ($9.50), three medium-rare, miniature burgers blanketed with white cheddar and caramelized onions cushioned between soft Hawaiian rolls.

Fresh jalapenos ($6.25), some of which still have their seeds intact for a pumped-up joyride on the tongue, are wrapped with salty pancetta, coated with cream cheese and sided with a tangy relish of cilantro and mango.

The housemade, feather-light chicken and spinach ravioli ($8.50) is served Italian-style, which is to say that it doesn't arrive under a deluge of sauce, but a light, brushstroked bouquet of white wine, lemon, butter and brandy - and pelted with bacon.

Main courses are every bit as inspiring. I loved the confit of duck ($16), lusciously tender and moist, with a crackling skin bolstered by spongy apple butter cornbread and an heirloom bean cassoulet, bewitchingly smoky, just like a campfire. And nothing could pry me away from the pork belly ($15), two fatty and fantastic slabs, sauced with red onion marmalade and coddled with creamed spinach and a caramelized grit cake.

And the wonderments didn't stop there. Slices of pork tenderloin ($14), juicy and rosy atop an irresistible sweet potato puree and slightly bitter broccoli rabe, are fragrant with apple cider. The garnet-hued beef sirloin chateau ($19), richly flavored in a marsala pan sauce, unites with butter- sauteed baby carrots and whipped potatoes that are lighter than cotton candy.

There are a few disappointments. The heavy- handed butternut squash ravioli ($14) suffers from a downpour of walnuts, and on the two occasions when I tried to order the charcuterie plate (market price), the kitchen was out of all its meats. The same fate afflicted the cheese plate (market price).

Forgiveness, however, comes easily at The Berkshire, especially when dessert is peanut butter truffles ($4.50), powdered with a shimmering luster dust and pelted with - what else? - bacon.

lmidson@gmail.com

The Berkshire

* Grade: A-

* Address: 7352 E. 29th St.

* Hours: 11:30 a.m.Â?10 p.m. Mon.-Thurs.; 11:30 a.m.-11 p.m. Fri.-Sat.; Sunday brunch

* Food: American

* How much: $6.25-$11.50 starters; $5-$9 soups and salads; $7-$9 sandwiches; $14-$19 entrees

* Reservations: Suggested on weekends

* Noise: Animated

* Information: theberkshirerestaurant.com; 303-321-4010

* Parking: Free street parking in front of restaurant