CENTRAL CITY — I was compelled to go to Rick’s Cabaret in Central City for the same reason most locals frequent the establishment, or any gentlemen’s club, for that matter: The food is well-regarded.

On the gorgeous, winding drive from Denver up to Rick’s on a Friday, I reflected on past experiences with food in adjacent fine dining establishments. Shotgun Willie’s is the gold standard in Denver. Their T-Bone steak is a real winner, and on Tuesdays, it’s $28 for 16oz of grilled goodness, a side of potatoes and vegetables. It’s a deal the whole family can enjoy (for take out, depending on age).

Nitro Club in Boulder is more-or-less a cash pit for overly-excited upperclassmen at CU-Boulder, with no culinary offerings, but they do offer 25% off wine and champagne on Wine Wednesdays, so it’s at least worth consideration for your next book club.

Rick’s Cabaret takes bits and pieces from both—there’s tinges of class, as well as a full menu. For my first voyage, I intended to ball out (small bills, non-sequential). Let’s eat!

Now feels like a good time to mention that I went to Rick’s Cabaret at 12:30 p.m. for my lunch break. Not ideal timing, but I assumed the general aura of the joint would be mostly unchanged (Rick’s doesn’t have windows).

My assumption was proven wrong, quickly and fiercely. Without divulging too much detail, the only paid employees, as far as I could see, were two managers—one walking the floor, the other behind the bar. Suffice to say, they were great, offering casual conversation throughout my meal. Unexpected, but greatly appreciated, nonetheless.

Since Rick’s usual goings-on wasn’t happening at present, I opted for a bar seat, a Coors Banquet, and a request to throw on USMNT’s debut World Cup match versus Paraguay, which was quickly met.

Then came the motherlode. I drove an hour-and-a-half to eat, and nothing more, so a big meal was in order. I kicked things off with an order of the mozzarella sticks, as well as the lamb lollipops, then pivoted to their crispy chicken club sandwich, and finally, the “risqué penne”—a heaping bowl of alfredo pasta with all the fixings.

Roughly $80 in food, on a solo mission, at Central City’s premier cabaret, in the middle of the day. It’s not sad, it’s for content. 

I have very little to say about the first course of the day. In truth, it was a panic order. They were rock solid mozzarella sticks, and why wouldn’t they be? You can’t really split the atom on mozzarella stick innovation—contrary to what the evil geniuses at Chili’s and Applebee’s may tell you—but I was satisfied.

The lamb lollipops came recommended, and mostly lived up to the hype. The garnish and cucumber salad really tied the plate together, and while they were a touch too salty, the rich, earthy flavor I come to expect from quality lamb shone through.

I did not particularly love the crispy chicken club sandwich, but in hindsight, I’m kicking myself for not getting a burger. I got cute, when running the ball with one of my favorite foods in this situation was clearly the best option. I don’t even really like chicken sandwiches in general, so in the interest of being honest, I think this “thumbs down” was a personal problem, as much as it was the sandwich just not being all that good (dry and bready, but loaded with tasty toppings).

The risqué penne was the star of the show. Its portion size was unbelievable—a literal mountain of pasta, with chicken, mushrooms and broccoli, and the creamy spiced alfredo sauce was probably my favorite part of any of the dishes. Since I had already eaten what felt like 10 lbs. of food, I took a lot of it home, but it didn’t make it far; I scarfed most of the plate on the drive back to Denver (not while the car was moving; I stopped at appropriate turnoffs for forkfuls like a responsible adult). 

Usually, I leave these stories with an anecdote—having gained insight into how a place, or person, or action here in Colorado makes life a little less weighty, and a little more worth it. This time, I drove through the mountains to eat food at a gentlemen's club. Not a whole lot was revealed.

But I do believe there is an honest truth here (a funny little quip) about enjoying our simple pleasures, however ridiculous, and experiencing curveballs along the way, full stop. I might be reaching. You should just go try the pasta.