Whether you like it or not, there is a perception outside of Colorado that steakhouses abound in this state. The assumption is that cattle farms abound out here, and that meat from top Angus and Kobe beef farms throughout the West is shipped to a bevy of hungry consumers at any number of steakhouses along the Front Range.
But in Boulder County, this isn’t quite reality. In fact, when I moved here and tried getting my hands on some big slab of steak, I had to ask around. More often than not, the recommendation was Boulder Chophouse. Having been a few times, and felt sated, I returned recently to give it a proper review.
The Chophouse was already in my good favor, though, because the atmosphere is so attractive. It looks like a New York-style steakhouse from the get-go, with an ornate and vintage tile design in the mudroom entrance, and big wooden doors that shut out the cruel world outside and welcome you into a better, steakier one. There are old photos on the wall, dim lights, big leather booths, brassy and explorative jazz on the speakers, and the static gurgle of voices and laughter. The kitchen opens up to a corner of the dining room so you can look in and see the staff at work.
The Chophouse has a medium-sized wine list with moderate and fair prices. Most selections are domestic (California and Oregon), although there is a notable amount of interesting Italian and French varieties. The cocktail list is intriguing.
With a bottle of a light Tuscan on the table, we mowed through an expansive meal. First was the complimentary skillet-cooked green chile cornbread. It was juicy (likely cream of corn-based) and though the green chile could’ve been zippier, the taste was spot on.
Next was a shared bowl of lobster and asparagus mac. The asparagus came steamed and then lightly broiled on top of the pasta. Bringing the first forkful to consumption, the scent of truffle oil overtook the palate. Some people say you can overdo truffle oil but those people would be wrong. Especially on this dish. With rich cheddar and parmesan cheese, and earthy nuggets of crimini mushroom, the powerful flavors sort of mellowed out eventually. The lobster required some fishing, but was tasty when it ended up on a fork.
Next was soup and salad. One of the best aspects of the Chophouse is the fact that a Caesar salad and a French onion soup are so cheap they’re basically complimentary. The Caeser salad, always my favorite steak primer, was creamy and peppery, with a tasteful smack of anchovy. The French onion soup was savory and robust. The bread crust and melted cheese added wonderful texture to the broth and soft onions.
And then the steak came. I ordered a 31-ounce prime rib. It was cooked medium rare. It was thick-cut and working through it was a joy. It was lean, and the outer spices were well-proportioned. Now, I like prime rib more than I like other cuts of steak, but the sirloins, filets, porterhouses and rib eyes that passed my view onto other tables certainly looked appetizing.
The other entrée on the table was a plate of crab cakes in an ancho remoulade. They were covered by breading, and packed almost entirely with crab meat on the inside. This meant they were dryer, but not in a bad way — just less saucy than some other varieties. The ancho remoulade was creamy and dense and more than made up for the cake’s lack of viscosity.
As one of few dedicated steakhouses in town, Boulder Chophouse serves an important niche in the local dining scene — one that would appear to be underserved. But whenever this whole thing comes full circle (and it’s a good practice to count your life by steak dinners) and I’m asked where to get a good steak by some bright-eyed newcomer, I’ll be sure to pass along the recommendation for the Chophouse that was given to me.
