"What were your first impressions when you arrived? Decades ago, the old Uptown building that now houses Coperta was a soda fountain. You can tell. The owners—exec chef Paul Reilly, his sister Aileen, and her husband JP Taylor, Jr.—left the original brickwork and patterned tile flooring intact; to that they added Hoosier cabinets and a hodgepodge of vintage-style pendant lamps, mirrors, and artwork. The result is a three-room space overlooking Benedict Fountain Park that couldn’t feel more homey or quaint. But don’t let the ambiance fool you—or at least not entirely. Focusing on the regions of central and southern Italy, the kitchen and bar crew buck as often as they adhere to tradition. And they do it with remarkable sprezzatura , to use the Italian word for “effortless style.” What’s the crowd like? If you’ve ever been to an Italian café in the afternoon, you know exactly what to expect: The crowd here is as animated, engaged, and fully in their element as if they were Roman locals hanging out at their go-to spot on a side street off the Piazza Fiume. That means it can get a little noisy. If it’s a concern, request a patio or sidewalk table. Otherwise, there’s a reason the old adage “do as the Romans do” exists: Follow your fellow patrons’ lead and live it up. What should we be drinking? How did Denver get so lucky? When it comes to Italian-focused wine programs, there’s a lot of serious competition in this town. (See also: Spuntino , Tavernetta , Barolo Grill .) But Taylor’s selection holds its own despite—or due to—the fact that it covers only the bottom half of the Boot. Here you’ll find not just Sicilian Nero d’Avola and Campanian Aglianico, but all sorts of small-production beauties showcasing native regional grapes: tangy Verdeca from Apulia, savory Pecorino from Abruzzo, bold Cesanese del Piglio from Lazio. As you’re perusing the list, by all means nurse a cocktail—maybe a Negroni Gialla made with white vermouth and gentian liqueur in lieu of Campari, maybe a classic limoncello spritz. And don’t even think of ending your evening without a sip of some amaro you’d never heard of. No meal here is complete without it. Main event: the food. Give us the lowdown—especially what not to miss. There’s only one problem with choosing Coperta for date night: You need more bodies around the table to explore every section of the menu. Even the selection of salumi and formaggi, a token gesture at far too many restaurants, is special here, incorporating numerous house-made items as well as such delightful stuff as spuma di lardo and sottocenere al tartufo. And while the kitchen does a bang-up job of classics like calamari fritti, cacio e pepe, and pollo alla diavola, it’s the seasonal creations that make lasting impressions. Maybe it’ll be luscious prosciutto-wrapped octopus dotted with cannellini and diced fennel in a pool of Sherry-sage vinaigrette that moves you. Maybe it’ll be a sprightly bite of smoked ricotta gnudi topped with local stone fruit and pistachios or confit duck leg over soft polenta, brightened by a dollop of apricot-pine nut relish and a sprinkle of lemon balm. Or maybe a deceptively simple snack of panelle (chickpea fritters) or a summer-sweet dessert of corn panna cotta laced with caramelized peach butter will be the dish that lingers in your mind long after the moment you tasted it. Regardless, a memory or two is sure to be made. And how did the front-of-house folks treat you? With the gregarious Reilly family setting the tone for service, you can count on genuine friendliness from the staff that’s commensurate with their knowledge. Whether they’re bringing you a round of mini-spritzes to kick things off or nimbly walking you through the wine list, they can bring the banter without bearing down. It’s the perfect balance between relaxed and orderly. What’s the real-real on why we’re coming here? On the upscale-casual spectrum, Coperta sits smack in the middle. You’d be as comfortable making an impromptu weeknight of it with friends at the bar as you would bringing the in-laws when they’re in town for the holidays. Just don’t come without an appetite—that’s what the Italians would call un’occasione persa (a missed opportunity)." - Ruth Tobias
