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  I've been on a little "Stay-cation" for the last few days and through this week.  Normally this time of year I boldly pirate my way through the Caribbean with Becky, but this week, we're stayin' home for various reasons, and it's nice, actually.  We decided to instead go to interesting in-town restaurants and see one movie every day of whatever.

Dave Hartman?!

  First on the plate was Identity Thief staring Jason Bateman (younger brother of Justine Bateman of Family Ties fame for you '80s rascals out there [ruffling top of heads fatherly] aw, you know who you are!)  He's my age but looks like dog shit even with the tons of makeup, but that's what 10 years of drugs will do to ya (you listening, Lohan?)  Still, a good, good solid film (I thought so, anyway) with a bit of a Jack Lemon / Tony Randal vibe shtick / tempo with rapid-fire casual dialogue popular in rom-coms of the '60s.  Throw-in a little Planes Trains and Automobiles and you've got Identity Thief.  Rather unusual for a comedy to be rated R, but it works, especially with Melissa McCarthy (looking suspiciously like Grease and Grease II's Dolores Goodman, or perhaps who Principal Victoria from South Park -sounds- like the actress from the '80s [aw, heck I forget her name, and honestly, I thought Melissa was her, but she's not, please fill-me-in, guys]) did a rather decent job as a Minnesota chipmunky woman.  I recommend it.  It's not really that goofy, and a few minor improbable holes: cops nab criminal but main character asks if they can leave for a bit to talk for a while alone.  Unlikely, knowing Denver Police (takes place half in Denver, which is nice).

  Meal was at The Famous, also known as The Famous Steak House.  Lunch special was my favorite, a burger, which The Independent recommends, so we each had one.  Violently huge and cannot be eaten in a sitting, btw.  Seasoned well, needing no salt, etc., or any condiment.  Fries equally acceptable.  Beck started with the potato-soup which was superb.  Rosemary fresh baked bread as an a free starter was done acceptably well.  Ambiance is mid-'40s instrumentals with a northern Mediterranean fair, though they snuck-in a little Singin' in the Rain instrumental on accordion and clarinet in a different key and time signature to be cheeky as if I wouldn't notice it.  Saucy and risque.  I quizzed the waitress on scotch, and they had Macallan 18-year, which is the most perfect scotch in my opinion under infinity dollars and asked immediately if I wanted it "neat".  How would one have it any other way?  Well done, miss, to almost insist it prepared thusly, yes, in a glass... and that's it.  Good.  I quizzed her two more times, for a total of three, THREE questions!  (five is right out.)  If the cheesecake was made in-house or frozen and shipped-in (was made in-house and ordered promptly, then served with hand-whipped cream [stop with the jeers] requiring no sugar to sweeten, mint sprig and white-chocolate rectangle alongside it, vanilla bean riddled in the cake, brilliantly done.) and then if they had considered attempting to achieve a Michelin Star (she had no idea what that was, but they deserve one for excellence).

  After cooling down, I find The Famous to offer the second best burger in town next to Mackenzie's Chop House a little down Tejon where we were as they offered Koby Beef hamburgers.  The burger was ordered medium-well for safety-sake never being there before, but rare would have been very good too.  High quality meat, a little dry, and they loose-out on the garlic (not dill) pickle, though as big as a baby's arm and quite worrisome a bludgeoning weapon.  Portions are ridiculously too large but a bargain for the price, making Five Guys seem like a ripoff.

  The menu seemed underwhelming and rather snobby-sounding but it was actually quite impressive.

  When I went in, I was expecting a fight with my Polo shirt and jeans and tweed traveling cap with Kashmir scarf that I was underdressed, but business was dead and no one balked.  Indeed, Becky and I were the best-dressed for lunch anyway, so my fisticuffs were stayed.

  Despite still coping with a hangover from a maximum amount of Buffalo Trace bourbon a few days prior resulting in vomiting 5 times (32 shots was too much, but it tastes so light you don't know you're drinking anything but water at 80 proof and $19 a bottle?  What the heck?) I thoroughly enjoyed the Macallan 18, fruity and floral with a peat finish as usual ending in peaches flambe aftertaste.  I suspect 1994 vintage, or perhaps 1993 (I get those confused as they're similar, one tastes more like pear) and it went excellently with the homemade cheesecake and honey-graham-cracker crust.  Overall, it gets an A+. 

A litle WW-II cheesecake, "Boo-Boo"

  On my way out, I smelled a good cigar tempting from below and asked the waitress if there was a hidden cigar bar downstairs, like a speak-easy, but she said there was just offices down there.  I'm glad the owner doesn't give a fudge about Colorado laws of smoking in establishments.  Screw 'em!  Ace.

Stairway to Heaven