The Greenwich - Denver 3258 Larimer Street

An Italian flatbread baked to order, served with quince balsamic, herbs and spices.

Fresh mozzarella, Jersey tomato sauce, basil. Sourdough crust and mozz both made in-house. This is the one.

Sardinian chickpea-shaped pasta with slow-braised duck, chives, and grana padano. Quiet, rich, and deeply delicious.

Cacao Barry dark chocolate and sea salt. Three to an order, served warm. Completely acceptable as an appetizer.

An Italian flatbread baked to order, served with quince balsamic, herbs and spices.

Fresh mozzarella, Jersey tomato sauce, basil. Sourdough crust and mozz both made in-house. This is the one.

Sardinian chickpea-shaped pasta with slow-braised duck, chives, and grana padano. Quiet, rich, and deeply delicious.

Cacao Barry dark chocolate and sea salt. Three to an order, served warm. Completely acceptable as an appetizer.

Bubbles with a bit of attitude. Light on its feet, dry as a good comeback, and dangerously easy to keep pouring.

Some wines just want to taste good. This one wants to taste good and leave the planet a little better on the way out. Delta donates from every bottle to ocean cleanup and carbon reduction, which is a long way of saying you can feel slightly smug about your second glass. Cool-climate California fruit from Mendocino down to the Central Coast — passion fruit, pink grapefruit, a flicker of honeysuckle. Bright, bracing, and quietly doing the right thing.

wine named after a sandwich meat by a guy who learned to cook from his mom in Tuscany. One of the most approachable and delicious skin-contact wines we’ve ever tasted.

volcanic soil, Piedmont sun, and zero interest in being complicated. The bottle you open on a Wednesday that turns the whole night around.

From a little cooperative in Alghero, off the coast of Sardinia. Tastes like wild berries and warm rocks and the ocean nearby.

created by two wine importers who fell in love with the Australia nobody exports — the sun-drenched, no-nonsense, unoaked side. No tricks, no oak chips, no coloring agents. Just honest Cab that drinks like a beach day feels.

Light, a little wild, all roses and crushed pepper — named after the grandfather who taught Alberto to love the vines before he could spell them.

Some grapes need centuries to find themselves. Aglianico's been at it since the Greeks brought it to southern Italy roughly twenty-six hundred years ago, and it still has things to say. The Scuotto family farms it in Irpinia, on hillsides where the soil remembers volcanos. What lands in the glass is intense ruby, deep and warm — cassis, blackberry, ripe red fruit, a quiet pulse of spice underneath. Full-bodied without the swagger, soft tannins, the kind of red that makes a Sunday ragù feel like an event.

Crisp, bright, a little flirty. Santa Barbara Chenin doing what Loire Chenin wishes it could in the sun.

three hectares. One farmer. Organic everything. Forty-year-old vines he inherited from his grandfather. The kind of bottle that makes the night feel important — because it is.

Bubbles with a bit of attitude. Light on its feet, dry as a good comeback, and dangerously easy to keep pouring.

wine named after a sandwich meat by a guy who learned to cook from his mom in Tuscany. One of the most approachable and delicious skin-contact wines we’ve ever tasted.

A talented producer from one of the most popular regions on earth turns his attention and talents toward this magical rosé. If you’re on a date and not ordering this bottle, you’re making a mistake.

Named after the winemaker's love of blues music. Only 3,800 bottles made. This is the most interesting glass of wine nobody at the table saw coming.

We only have one Pinot on our list, so we want it to be something special. Classic Oregon Pinot with cheery fruits, plenty of baking spices, and dazzling acid. Pop this open and stay awhile.

Brunello's little sibling. Same grapes, same soul, less patience required. If you love big Italian reds, start here.

A red wine that thinks it's a popsicle. Grown over fossils, fermented whole-cluster, served with a chill and a wink. Watermelon Jolly Rancher and crushed strawberries — bring a friend you like.

Created by two wine importers who fell in love with the Australia nobody exports — the sun-drenched, no-nonsense, unoaked side. No tricks, no oak chips, no coloring agents. Just honest Cab that drinks like a beach day feels.

Some grapes need centuries to find themselves. Aglianico's been at it since the Greeks brought it to southern Italy roughly twenty-six hundred years ago, and it still has things to say. The Scuotto family farms it in Irpinia, on hillsides where the soil remembers volcanos. What lands in the glass is intense ruby, deep and warm — cassis, blackberry, ripe red fruit, a quiet pulse of spice underneath. Full-bodied without the swagger, soft tannins, the kind of red that makes a Sunday ragù feel like an event.

Light, a little wild, all roses and crushed pepper — named after the grandfather who taught Alberto to love the vines before he could spell them.

Wild sea air, granite soils, stone fruit, and a saline finish that lingers. Dreamy is an appropriate descriptor.

Everyone sleeps on Soave. Order this and you'll wonder why. The quiet one at the party who ends up being the most interesting person in the room.

The Trimbach family has been making wine since 1626. That's not a typo. Four centuries of "we know exactly what we're doing" in every sip.

Volcanic soil, Piedmont sun, and zero interest in being complicated. The bottle you open on a Wednesday that turns the whole night around.

Some wines just want to taste good. This one wants to taste good and leave the planet a little better on the way out. Delta donates from every bottle to ocean cleanup and carbon reduction, which is a long way of saying you can feel slightly smug about your second glass. Cool-climate California fruit from Mendocino down to the Central Coast — passion fruit, pink grapefruit, a flicker of honeysuckle. Bright, bracing, and quietly doing the right thing.

I'm going to level with you - I typically hate Pinot Grigio. It turns out that if you steal some of New Zealand's signature aromas and add some zippy acid, this can be a darn fine bottle of wine.

Crisp, bright, a little flirty. Santa Barbara Chenin doing what Loire Chenin wishes it could in the sun.

// layered, balanced, tiki Agavales Tequila Reposado, Smith + Cross Rum, campari, lime, pineapple

Peroni Nastro Azzurro — Brewed in Rome since 1963. Light-bodied with a clean bitterness and faint citrus finish, it's the kind of beer that makes sense at a table with good food and people you like. Ice cold. Always.

Peroni Nastro Azzurro 0.0 — Because the best nights aren't about the alcohol anyway. Crisp, cold, and Italian enough to hold its own at this table.