Rodney’s is a hot spot for the middle-aged set in Cherry Creek. It ain’t no thing to see women strutting around in a bedazzled, lycra-spandex blend jumpsuit in-between her sips of Kendall Jackson Chardonnay. Or you might see a smooth-talking car salesman chilling in his best Tommy Bahama shirt while he nurses a Michelob-Ultra/Jim Beam Boilermaker.
Rodney’s is also in a basement, so if there is a chill in the air, it’s nice and cozy inside. There’s something about wood paneling and the smell of Windsong and Old Spice that makes me feel at home.
As you can see, it’s a pretty sweet place. Mrs. Turkey Sandwich and I like to hit Rodney’s up from time-to-time to take in the sights and smells while we have dinner and a couple cocktails.
The menu at Rodney’s is interesting. It’s one of those places that can’t decide what they fuck they specialize in, so they do a little bit of everything. They do enchiladas, chicken fried steak, burgers, steaks and yes a Turkey Sandwich.
Honestly, I’ve been to Rodney’s 4 or 5 times and I’ve resisted the Turkey Sandwich every time. Maybe I was in awe of the sets of fake, middle-aged breasts, or maybe it was the opportunity to get “Tres Enchiladas” at a place called Rodney’s. Whatever it was, the time had not come – until last night.
I ordered Rodney’s Turkey Sandwich and I’ve doubled down by getting the Au Gratin potatoes as my side. Rodney makes a bold statement about his Turkey Sandwich on the menu: “we slow roast our own, slice it, and pile it high”.
I don’t know about that Rodney. Slow roast it? Maybe. The quality of Turkey was good. But Rodney, “pile it high”? I don’t think so.
As Mrs. Turkey Sandwich, who ate half of the sandwich because her sliders were cooked a little more rare than she would have liked, said, it needed some sauce or something. Excellent point. As I look back at the photo, I wish I would have thrown some of those Au Gratin potatoes on there. That would might have been tastier than eaves-dropping on that Tommy Bahama guy trying to hook up with Lady Bedazzle.