Salsa Latina is a hole-in-the-wall Colorado-style Mexican joint that is like another hole-in-the-wall Colorado-style Mexican joint, El Taco Rey, in almost every mystifying, maddening, wonderful way.
For as long as I can remember, Latina’s owner Danny Aguilar was the man behind the counter at El Taco Rey, doling out jokes and Styrofoam boxes of green chili pork-avocado burritos.
And for as long as I can remember, I have been perplexed by how Rey seemed to thrive in spite of itself. It had almost no seating, almost no parking, didn’t take credit cards, didn’t serve dinner, was closed on weekends and had the maddening habit (from the point of view of a guy jonesing for a pork-avo burrito) of closing for weeks on end for something called “el taco rest.”
Still, the line was out the door, and the Aguilar family, which has run the place for generations, seemed happy as ever. (Rey recently expanded its hours slightly and began taking credit cards, but remains cramped and sometimes closed.)
For years I would scheme about all the inconveniences I would smooth away if I were running things.
So, when Danny, a member of the family, went off on his own, (“Not really with my parents’ blessing,” he said) opening Salsa Latina less than a mile away, I figured he was tired of the eccentricities and wanted to do be more conventional.
Instead, he did the same thing. The menu is full of the same hearty tacos and burritos. The place doesn’t take credit cards. It has limited seating (although it did recently expand beyond counter service), and it is closed on weekends.
Needless to say, the line is out the door.
I’m tempted to think the two restaurants have cooked up the culinary version of the diamond cartel, creating value by intentionally crafting scarcity: You want the pork-avo burrito because it’s so hard

Excitement over Trinity Brewing Co. started to bubble among local beer connoisseurs long before the place poured its first pint in August.
Trinity seemed like an ale and lager version of fantasy football: Pick and choose the best parts of the local brew scene and put them together for a dream team. Part 1: Jason Yester, the dreadlocked genius who was brewmaster at Bristol Brewing Co. for five years, churning out one blue ribbon beer after another. Part 2: Todd Walton, former owner of Kinfolks Mountain Outfitters in Manitou, which has a tiny bar in the back serving hard-to-find artisan beers.
Put them together in a ZIP code desperately in need of a good brewpub, add environmentally friendly practices such as giving a discount to customers who ride or walk to the brewery, and top it off with a menu celebrating natural, local and organic food, and you have a restaurant deserving of all its buzz.
Every time I go, the place is packed. The mountain bikes of pedal-to-work dudes from nearby bike-partsmaker Sram crowd the rack as the dudes perch, pint-in-hand, on the patio. Inside, a row of about 30 taps lines a long, illuminated bar made of recycled glass. Vast chalkboards above display food and beer options. A long, hallwaylike file of tables leads to a back room full of comfy couches. The Grateful Dead plays on the iPod. Dreadlocked employees ferry frothy mugs of excellent stout and amber to standing gangs of after-work drinkers and those lucky enough to score a seat. Trays whisk through the crowd carrying sizzling Belgian-style fries, vegan hot wings and steaming bowls of beer-cheese soup.
It’s a lovely scene, and people clearly treasure it, but in the few months it has been open, Trinity has yet to live up to its potential. Service is clunky and uneven.

A few months ago, when local longtime New York-slice slinger Mama Trino’s Pizzeria — one of the region’s better pizza joints — moved to the gentrified SoDo block of South Tejon Street, someone must have decided the place needed to be more hip.
After all, it was opening on one of the coolest blocks in town, a stretch with happening bars and coffee shops, nightclubs and a scooter boutique. To fft in with the young, urban vibe, Mama Trino’s Pizzeria set up in a sleek, industrial-looking shop and shortened its name to Trino’s.
The menu remains unchanged. Anyone who loved Trino’s pizza, sandwiches and pasta at its old South Nevada location will find the same good stuff waiting in the new, hipper atmosphere.
Call it post-industrial, bourgeois chic: Inviting glass garage doors at the front of the shop open onto the sidewalk. Inside, stylish raw brick walls shelter long, wood benches and a scattering of tables on raw concrete floors. The huge garage doors and a New York City subway map on the wall serve as a subtle reminder that this century-old brick building was originally the garage for the city’s streetcars.
Behind the counter stands the brick oven that bakes Trino’s pizzas. Through its open mouth, you can see big gas flames dance as pies glisten in the heat.
Order by the slice ($2.39) or a whole pie ($13.89-$20.69).
Ask for a slice and, in true New York fashion, a wedge of a recently cooked pizza is tossed back in the oven for a few minutes.
What comes out is also true to the Big Apple: a thin, floppy slice.
“Maybe a little too floppy,” a friend said at a recent lunch. Even after he folded one of the big, hot slices lengthwise, the tip sagged, spilling cheese, toppings and sauce all over his plate. This pizza is best kept simple. Get too many toppings and it could fail entirely.
Trino’s takes pains to make a good pie. Sauce and dough are made from scratch every day. Most of the toppings are up to par, but some details of the operation need updating with the name.
I ordered a lunch slice that came with one topping. From a list of goodies ranging from anchovies to grilled chicken, I chose basil. I assumed, since it counted as a topping, it was sweet, fresh, anisey
— basil leaves. The slice arrived, instead, covered in the dried stuff. The toppings list could use some renovation.
The nonpizza menu relies heavily on pizza stock. An antipasto salad ($6.49) capable of feeding four, was bolstered by lettuce with black olives, ham, pepperoni, cheese and other pizza toppings. The good pastas, made when you order, seem to use sauces (white or red) found on the pizzas, too. This works because the pizzas have a good sauce.
Trino’s meatballs, whether with pasta or in a gooey sub ($5.99), are homemade, full of oregano, and more meaty than many sandwich-grade meatballs, which use ffllers such as bread crumbs.
Trino’s SoDo makeover is a hit. The cool new space is welcoming, the service is good, and the place is open until the bars close on weekends, so it makes a perfect past-midnight snack.
Pizza connoisseurs will likely never stop arguing over who makes the best New York slice in town, but Trino’s is a worthwhile stop in that ongoing debate.