It’s better with beer

For the fine-dining set, the idea of pairing beer with food is still a bit … plebeian. But more and more often in these sudsy times, beer-driven restaurants in Denver and Boulder are experimenting with native brews and high-end cuisine. To name a few: West End Tavern of Big Red F fame, the newly-minted FATE Brewing Company — even the long-sung Breckenridge Brewery in LoDo which recently got an overhaul.

While we’re at it, let’s add one more to the list: Bru.

Part of what plagues many of the beer-and-food stops in both Denver and Boulder, however, is an overextended creativity; either the beer enjoys raves and the food is dished up in mediocrity, or the food soars and the beer is, well, a few steps up from Miller Light. I’ve often wondered if it’s possible to put enough effort into house-brewed beer AND gourmet fare to elevate the entire experience.

At first blush, Bru is that experience.

First, the ale — a sampling of brews that are evidently unique, without being unapproachable. Many of Bru’s handmade varieties are high octane, so if you like Belgians (which I do), this is your stop. The two picks that I’d drop by to drink at the bar have to be the Obitus American Brown — brewed with dates — and the Beezel Golden — which is a perfectly light summer blend of sweet and citrus.

Chef Ian Clark — who should rightly be called a beer chef for his beer-centric cooking philosophies — has built a menu that is a true American melting pot. Where else can you find charcuterie plates butting up to Duck Confit Sourdough Pizza and Chicken Yellow Mole?

Armed with a feisty golden, I devoured Clark’s Southern feature one afternoon: Fried Chicken with hoppin’ John. If that’s not a feast made for a beer, I don’t know what is. Picture it: chicken almost falling off the bone, coated in a salty house batter and deep-fried until it crackled in golden brownness. Then the hoppin’ John — a smattering of beans, mizuna, and what struck the palate as bacon fat and vinegar. I’m not a Southern food connoisseur, but I enjoy my culinary treks down South — including this one. Without a doubt, it beat the pants off the Colonel.

And while many a dish caught my eye, I had to enjoy the work of Bru’s wood-fired pizza oven before anything else — specifically, the Duck Confit pie. A vague tang from the crispy dough cuddled up to sour cherry on top, alongside the decadence of duck confit and freshly-shaved grana padano. It’s hard NOT to finish a whole personal pizza here — and beg for another brew when it’s disappeared.

Here’s what makes all this work, and work well: Clark has decided that brewing and cooking are no longer divergent tracks. If this country is ever going to see a respected beer-and-fine-dining scene, then they have to develop together. Where else to blaze that trail but in Boulder, America’s craft brew capital? And so, Clark has taken up the standard and run with it — with an energy that fits neatly into both Bru’s kitchen and brew house.

As with all newbies, I’m giving this one a pass on glitches that didn’t seem quite worked out — like lagging service and misfired orders that ultimately left us with an extra beer on the table. I guess I can’t complain about that. But Bru shows so much promise in a sea of brewpubs that are lopsided, I can’t really whine. I’m just anxious to see what seasonal and local sourcing does to the menu — and, for that matter, the deliciously Belgian brews.