Imagine this: the sultry, clandestine meeting of an 18th-century French ladies parlor and the ritzy know-how of a smoke-filled Vienna coffeehouse on Wienerstraße.
She interrupts the order with her hand in the air, a referee’s “timeout,” and an urgent call from her friend Susan, who, incidentally, is also eating at California Pizza Kitchen. The event necessitates unending giggles, followed inevitably by, “Really? No way! Oh my gawsh! That’s crazeeeeeeee!”
Head on down the stairs of Russell’s Smokehouse, enter through the bar area and settle in for some smoking good barbecue. This fabulous restaurant reminds me of the barbecue I grew up with; I’ve been hankering for food like this in Denver.