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Mark Schlereth isn’t a green chile expert. He doesn’t know how to make it, he doesn’t have any favorite places around Denver that make it, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between Colorado-style chile and New Mexico-style. Until recently, he admits, “I’d never had green chile. Now I’m hooked.”

But his lack of knowledge doesn’t seem to matter, because Schlereth certainly knows how to eat green chile — and sell it.

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Can you digest a steel-belted radial? Are you goiter-popping iodine-deficient? If so, has Chubby's got the lard-laced saltastic green chile you've been looking for!

I understand why people don't love this place. The north Denver landmark can put a hurtin' on anyone's bowels. Even those who were raised at the teet of Grandma Stella's fat factory at 38th Avenue and Lipan have been betrayed by this, their childhood love. Even those who swear the kind of allegiance to Chubby's that makes the French Foreign Legion oath of honor look like a kindergarten pinky swear have stumbled in here hungry at mid-day or mid-night, only to later be roused from deep sleep with the kind of gut-wrenching regret that usually pangs only those who have committed violent crimes of passion, or paid to see Gigli.

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