Gallop to ‘Gallop,’ a delightful café in the Highlands

LGBT-friendly restaurants have not always been so numerous in Denver. But in recent years, a surge in entrepreneurship has offered our community – and the community at large – safe and happy havens for a drink here, coffee there, and every meal between. Part of the inspiration for that growth is seasoned Gallop Café – a staple in the Highland, and a longtime draw for locals. It’s a place to chat, to build community, and to appreciate where we’ve come from and where we’re going.

On a recent Sunday, I had the privilege of resting in the shade of Gallop’s historic locale while digging into a sumptuous breakfast. It wasn’t just a meal I enjoyed, but an experience: Lining half a dozen tables on Gallop Cafe’s sun-soaked patio sat fish-bowl-sized Bloody Marys. Dogs lounged along the sidewalk while children bobbed on parents’ knees between bites of scrambled egg croissants.

It was any given Sunday, but you hardly would have known it: The buzz of breakfasters and Gallop devotees was dizzying, as were the plates ushering from the kitchen. Soaring slices of French toast, dusted with pristine white powdered sugar, coupled with mounded Benedicts, smothered in hollandaise. And this was only the beginning.

Between sips of my monstrously delicious Mary and chatter with a friend, Glen Baker, one of the cafe’s jovial owners, weaved in and out of the crowds. He was the perfect example of the gregarious restaurateur, stopping to greet everyone with a warm smile, waving at children, and scratching diners’ dogs behind the ears. There was no doubt Baker is part of the engine that keeps Gallop going – and has kept it going since the early days of 2004.

But the beginnings weren’t dramatic or terribly auspicious, as some might guess.

“I’ve been working in restaurants forever,” Baker told me, taking a break from the morning rush and catching shade near the front door. “My partner, Dave [Grafke] is into remodeling and we had always talked about opening our own place.”

The opportunity seized them both when they learned about the renovation of the Weir building, Gallop’s current home. “We saw the windows going in, and we just knew it was right,” he laughs.

Originally, the couple had planned to open a to-go concept, offering quality meals for busy professionals to take home and “resurrect,” as Baker put it. But the space in the Highland gave them a new idea – a place for coffee with satisfying, simple fare.

Today, Denverites – especially those native to the Highlands’ neighborhoods around 32nd and Zuni – would find it hard to see Gallop as anything other than a cornerstone of a thriving community. But in 2004, the “community,” such as it was, was mostly barren.

“We were the first new business to open in this neighborhood in a decade,” Baker explained.
And while he and Gafke were understandably nervous (about 90-percent of restaurants close their doors within a year of opening), they ultimately had reason to celebrate – the years ticked by with growing clientele and burgeoning support from the community.

“We’re a small operation – only about 12 full-time employees – but we love it,” he said.

The morning waned as I moved from a Bloody Mary to a house margarita – a specialty Gallop took 300 tries to perfect. Between anecdotes on the early days of the cafe, Baker would get up and give a customer – or five – big hugs and beaming smiles. They were all on a first-name basis, and it became clear that Baker knew their stories, their children, their families in a way most restaurateurs never do.

“Most of the customers who come in here live in the neighborhood, so I know them,” he said. “The community is important to me, which is why we also have spent time and money supporting schools in the area.”

When asked about making Gallop a gay-friendly establishment, Baker laughed.

“I wouldn’t say we set out to be a gay-friendly restaurant. We’re community-friendly. But at the same time, when we first started, our customers were our friends, and most of them were gay. Word has spread since then, and a large number of those in the LGBT community have come because they know me or Dave.”

While Gallop is all about the social experience of coffee and a meal – including dinner, which Gallop has now offered for close to two years – it’s not your traditional coffee-slinging hotspot. Baker was adamant from the start that WiFi not be part of the concept, and that computer-toting, headphone-wearing patrons be discouraged from sprawling out on tables with their laptops and tablets.

“There’s no room for that here,” he says. “Literally – we barely have a dozen tables, and they’re small, at that,” he laughed.

Just the same, the formula that Baker and Gafke have employed at Gallop is one that has worked wonders, and spurred the social energy of the community.

The success has sparked consideration of a second location, but Baker chuckles at the idea. “Some days,” he says, “Dave and I get serious about it. Others, we just want to be done with the whole business.”

Of course he doesn’t mean it – Gallop is too much a part of them both. In fact, when I asked what Baker does in his downtime, he paused while trying to put it together.

“You know, I don’t think we have much of a social life outside of the cafe,” he confessed. “If things close early on a Sunday, we might make it down to Beer Bust or go out with friends, but this is really our social life – right here.”

As he finishes his sentence and I take a final slog of hot coffee, he jumps up to greet new guests – neighbors stopping by with their two-year-old for a late breakfast. He teases the kid about working the dish pit, and checks in about the father’s new job. His usual beaming smile guides them to a three-top inside, and he eventually disappears into the recesses of the ever-busy cafe.
Breakfast might be over, but as far as anyone can tell, Gallop will be around for many Benedicts and Bloody Marys to come, with Baker and Gafke leading the way.