NEW: FRENCH 250 One month ago today French 250 opened in the digs once home to the late-Bistro Adde Brewster. Owned by Ted Reece, French 250 dishes up beautiful, classic Gallic cuisine in a sleekly adorned Champagne and black dining room. From the savory lamb shank sandwich with mirepoix to the delicate sea bass atop haricot verts, executive chef Jeremy Thomas‘ (formerly of the Brown Palace’s Ship Tavern) offerings are flavorful and perfectly executed. Our favorite dish is one that could be overlooked: the pea soup. Thickened with crème fraîche and the color of fresh English peas, spoonfuls are velvety and rich, and occasionally surprising with a lightly fried shrimp. Pair the soup with the salad niçoise, and lunch is served. Bonus: Get the Amour 250—three locally made organic chocolate truffles—boxed to go. 250 Steele St., 303-331-0250, TREATS: THE REAL-DEAL SORBET Despite an off-the-beaten-path location, the two-week-old kiosk-style Sorbeteria, is generating plenty of positive buzz. Located inside Market Central (the sleek, if limited, Ballpark grocery store) the glass case and menu board tempt with fresh flavors (mango-raspberry, strawberry, mandarin, pear-passion fruit, marion blackberry, and white peach) and ways in which to enjoy said flavors (scoops, smoothies, sorbet floats, and pints). I walked out with a pint of mango-raspberry and a strawberry-marion blackberry smoothie that sipped tart and sweet. There were seeds, which might annoy some, but to me indicated that the treat was made from the real stuff. Indeed, Michael Ruben, the “master sorbeteer,” keeps his ingredients fresh, using only in-season fruit, filtered water, and raw cane sugar—no fillers, no dairy, no artificial anything. You can taste why in 1997, Ruben’s sorbets were served to the boldface names attending the Summit of the Eight. My only complaint: I didn’t leave with a larger size smoothie and another pint for the freezer. 2046 Larimer St., 303-293-8888 FROM THE MARKET: HONEY CRISP APPLES I do love summer’s harvest, but when peaches and berries give way to apples and pears, I start looking for honey crisp apples to appear in our farmers’ markets. Grown on the Western Slope, this early-season apple—crunchy like a Fuji but far juicier and sweeter—tastes just like fresh-pressed cider. These blushing beauties grow in two sizes, small or extra large; I prefer the smaller because they’re usually less bruised. Eat honey crisps raw, or halve and brush with olive oil and grill ’em up to serve alongside an all-natural Niman Ranch pork chop. —Amanda M. Faison