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Winter 2011

Find the winter issue of Edible San Juan Mountains via our website, blog, or by getting straight to it!

Ska Turns Sweet Sixteen!

Not sure what to do this weekend? You won’t want to miss Ska’s Sweet Sixteen Anniversary Party and Brewers’ Invitational. This blowout bash begins at 4:00 p.m. at the Ska Brewing World Headquarters, at 225 Girard. Ticket prices include your entry fee, a commemorative Toasters tasting glass, and samples from the region’s finest breweries.

Musical guests The Toasters, The Blue Hornets and The Nuns of Brixton will be on hand to rock the house with live tunes. The Toasters- a legendary ska band- will take the stage Saturday evening after opening sets by The Blue Hornets and The Nuns of Brixton. Twenty of the region’s finest craft brewers will be presenting their best brews- lip up, fatty! Local food vendors will be serving up the good stuff to make sure you’ve got plenty of energy for the dance floor. To add a literary flair to the event, author Ed Sealover will be signing copies of his fantastic new book, Mountain Brew: A Guide to Colorado’s Breweries. Cheers, Ed! Sounds like an enticing read- I can’t wait to get my hands on a copy.

Who’s on the guest list? Breweries from all over the region have stepped up to show their support, and help the Ska Brew Crew celebrate sixteen years of great beer, great music, and great memories. The breweries involved in this event include: Avery, Breckenridge, Carver’s, Dolores River Brewery, Durango Brewing Company, Left Hand, Lumberyard Brewery, Marble, New Belgium, Odell’s, Oskar Blues, Ouray Brewing, Pagosa Brewing, San Luis Valley Brewing, Santa Fe Brewing, Second Street Brewery, Steamworks, Stone, Three Barrel Brewing and Three Rivers Brewing.

Tickets cost $25, and can be purchased online at: http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/187061. The website predicts that this event will sell out, so suds-lovers and ska fans alike are advised to purchase tickets as soon as humanly possible.

 

- Molly Childers

McElmo Canyon: The Peaches are Great (the grapes may be better)

By Eric Allen

Winemaking in Southwest Colorado? Mostly that means McElmo Canyon, the place, and its two producers, John Sutcliffe and Guy Drew. Blessed by isolation, tranquility, and most important some would say, the climate to ripen wine grapes, McElmo Canyon is secreted away in Southwest Colorado’s archeology-rich Montezuma County, close to the imposing Sleeping Ute Mountain, fascinating Sand Canyon, and the vast Canyons of the Ancients National Monument.

Scrawled on a crudely made sign along dusty McElmo Canyon Road were the words, “Peaches, Melons, Chiles, Ranch.” He pulled over, and as he says, “I bought all four.” The year was 1990, and John Sutcliffe was exploring a sleepy back road in what turned out to be the middle reaches of McElmo Canyon. So began the wine business in Southwest Colorado.

Sutcliffe planted vines in 1995 with aesthetics as the primary objective (grape vines are beautiful), but as the vines matured, the quality of fruit also proved to be very good. No less an authority than Patrick Elliot-Smith, of cult wine favorite Elan Vineyards in Napa, pronounced Sutcliffe’s luscious ripe Merlot the best he had ever tasted.

No surprise, really, as McElmo Canyon and surrounding Montezuma County had been known for fabulous fruits and vegetables for a long time. Montezuma County history is rich with accounts of abundant apple, peach, melon, and pepper harvests. Prizes were even awarded at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair…but that’s another story. The other half of this story is about Guy Drew and his wife, Ruth, long-time Front Range residents, who made frequent visits to Southwest Colorado over the years. In 1999, they established vineyards near the upper end of McElmo Canyon; construction of a winery and home followed shortly.

Their early wines were produced from fruit purchased in Colorado’s Grand Valley. The Drew vineyard site, as it turns out, is not quite right for vitus vinifera, the traditional noble European grape varieties, and is currently being replanted with cold-hardier hybrid vines. Look for wines from Baco Noir, Traminette, and Chambourcin in three to four years. Currently Guy Drew wines are produced primarily from purchased Montezuma County fruit, making Cabernet Sauvignon, Riesling, Gewürztraminer, Syrah, Rosé, and a delicious red proprietary blend of Cabernet and Merlot, called “Metate.” They can be purchased at numerous retail stores in Colorado, and are poured in selected restaurants.

Sutcliffe Vineyards, meanwhile, produces estate wines from 26 acres planted to Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Syrah, Petit Verdot, and Chardonnay – with Pinot Noir and Viognier on the way. Various blended reds, produced in minute quantities, are available occasionally, and are well worth seeking out. Sutcliffe wines are available at selected retail locations around Colorado, and are on restaurant wine lists far and wide: Durango, Aspen, Denver, Santa Fe, New York, San Francisco, London – even Beijing – are among the cities where they can be found.

The wines from both producers offer taste experiences that are uniquely Colorado. And while, at this point, many other Colorado wines need to be tasted with an apologetic, “This is pretty good for a Colorado wine,” that is definitely not the case with either of these producers.

Sutcliffe’s 2010 production, with winemaker Joe Buckle (from Flowers Vineyards in Sonoma) in charge, was about 3,600 cases. The same vintage saw Guy Drew produce about 4,500 cases, so there isn’t much wine to go around in a world thirsty for unique, quality wines. McElmo Canyon wines, while not the secret they once were, are still not widely recognized, but with their quality and distinctive, delicious flavors, that will soon change.  Seek them out, taste them, and decide for yourself. Then you can tell people you tasted these wines at the beginning of something very, very good.

Eric Allen got his start in the wine business in California’s Bay Area in the mid 1970s. Since that time, he has pulled corks in restaurants, has pounded the pavement for a wine distributor, and has taught Fort Lewis College’s World of Wine class. He opened The Wine Merchant in Durango with Ron Greene in 2002.

Tricks of the Trade: High Altitude Gardening

AN EDIBLE INTERVIEW WITH JOHN WICKMAN

If you want the skinny on edible gardening in the southwest, spend a few minutes with John Wickman. He’s been gardening for over 30 years in Colorado and is the owner/operator of Native Roots Gardening Center in Durango. Our plot of paradise here in the Southwest is a far cry from the throw-a-seed-in- the-ground-and-it-will-grow-like-crazy climate of other regions. But those with a bright green thumb like Wickman manage to grow vegetables and beyond in this harsher climate. His skills have even rubbed off on family members. His daughter grew hundreds of pounds of produce last year for a school project—then donated it all to the Manna Soup Kitchen. Here John shares some insight on gardening at high altitude.

What actually constitutes “high altitude”?

JW: Anything above 6,500 feet. Even the difference between Durango and Denver is huge. High-altitude gardeners have to contend with a much shorter growing season; we have three months here whereas Farmington has five months, Denver has five months.

What do you think is the biggest challenge of high altitude gardening, and how can we overcome it?

JW: The nighttime temperatures. They are in the 40s, and even though daytime temps are high, the soil still cools down a lot at night. Soil temperature drives a lot of plant metabolism; when soil temps drops below 55 degrees, plants stops growing. I suggest frost guard, which is a white fabric that helps a lot with maintaining nighttime temps. Basically you put it over the top of soil and plants grow underneath. It’s really lightweight, and as plants grow they push it up, then you can pull it off mid-July. The other option is to build a cold frame, or some type of greenhouse, which would obviously extend the season.

Is the soil here problematic and how can a new gardener work with it?

JW: The soil above us is high in minerals, like in Silverton and Telluride. Down here (in Durango) we have fairly fine clays because of the sediments coming out of the mountains, so the pH is going to be different depending on where you are. Because plants are sensitive to the pH, it’s good to get your levels tested. You can pick up soil sample kits at the extension office in Durango (2500 Main Avenue) or at most gardening centers. Once you know what your pH is, we give recommendations on how to amend the land for growing certain crops with organic matter based on those results.

* According to the Colorado State University Extenstion Office: “ pH can be described as the measure of acidity or alkalinity of soil. pH is measured on a scale of 1 to 14 where 7, which is neutral, is the optimal level for most plants. Numbers lower than 7 are considered acidic and numbers higher than 7 are considered alkaline or calcareous (high in calcium carbonate). Garden soils in Colorado that have never had amendments added may have a pH value of up to 8.5, which is higher than most plants can tolerate.”

Are there certain pests gardeners in the area need to contend with?

JW: By far the most complaints we get are deer and elk. Build a fence. Or you can get repellants that are organic and made out of eggs, or some made from blood, which instills fear in the animal rather than stinks them out. By far the biggest pest is aphids. But the good news with climate change is the predatory insects that never used to be here like praying mantis, lacewings, parasitic wasps, now over-winter here. These beneficial insects help keep the insect pest population down.

Are there certain seeds or plant breeds to look for that are specific to the growing season in high-altitude areas?

Yes. There are all different vegetable gardening plants that have varying days to harvest. Some tomatoes you can get to mature in 60 to 120 days, while most heirlooms take 100 to 120 days, which is unfortunate because heirlooms are better. Fast-maturing tomato breeds include Siberian, Early Girl or Celebrity—there are quite a few that have been bred to ripen in a shorter amount of time. There are also some beans, squash varieties, and even cabbage (that mature quickly).

What are some specific edible plants that might be considered “no-fail” and easy to grow for someone who is looking to get into gardening in our area?

The easiest would be some of the lettuces, beets, broccoli, Swiss chard, zucchini. Hard ones would be watermelon and cantaloupe because nights are too cool, so they produce fruit but the fruit is too small. They grow terrific cantaloupe out in La Junta, so I say buy those at the store and save garden space for what is productive. My advice is always to be patient, experiment and don’t get discouraged because it’s difficult.

What Baseball Taught Me About Gardening

By Darrin Parmenter

As a kid, my memories of a backyard garden are somewhat vague, and honestly, none too pleasant.

For me, summer was meant for baseball. Every day in June and July, the script was already written: wake up, grab the glove, bike to the baseball fields at the old Fairgrounds in Durango, then play, practice and pull weeds (this was pre-child labor laws, apparently). After the game, I’d go to a buddy’s house for a good two hours of wiffle ball, and be home by evening for a round of catch with dad.

That was it. My world consisted of a ball, bat and glove.

The garden was merely an obstacle to the game. If the batted ball reached the tomato plants, then it was a ground-rule double; the makeshift greenhouse was a foul ball; and if it was wacked to the raspberries, well, then the game was usually over and it was time to find a new ball.
But in 1981, it all changed.

The family took a vacation to grandma and grandpa’s house in Beulah, Colorado. Not too long after the fluids had cooled in the Oldsmobile Omega my parents kissed our foreheads, waved and headed back to Durango. Maybe they wanted to subject us to a week of “granny boot camp,” or maybe they needed a vacation from my sister and me, or perhaps it was simply them wanting us to experience something new during our summer break. Regardless, I was not too happy about being away from my friends or baseball. The thought of drinking grandma’s diluted Kool-Aid from an aluminum glass for a full week still makes my teeth hurt.

After my sister and I got settled, I soon learned that a) Grandpa knew how to play baseball (what a relief!), and b) behind the house, next to the tire swing, was grandpa’s garden. Man, that garden was big, and that soil was black. As children, the dirt was best used to paint our clothes, but as a gardener it was pure gold, and grandpa knew it. It was in this garden where he was always happiest.

He was proud—proud of his space behind the house that he bought, in the town he helped support. He would talk while the kids darted in and out of the two-story corn. Not sure what he was talking about, or whom he was talking to, but I still remember the excitement in his voice. I recall sitting on his knee, shucking beans, him smiling and kidding me about my (lack of) technique. And for once, baseball sat in the dugout while vegetables took to the field.

Baseball continued to be there every summer until I was 17, and I am pretty sure that the week away when I was 9 didn’t set my skills back that far. Grandpa Mickey died a number of years later, and if my memory serves me, so did the garden. There are no photos or journal detailing the crops behind the house. For all I know, the garden may not have been big at all.

But to be honest, I don’t really care. It was there I saw him laugh and talk—things he didn’t do all that often. For a week that summer, I was able to learn what taking pride in something was all about. Those memories still make me smile.

Thirty years later, as I sit in my small garden, I silently watch my kids dig up roly-polys and millipedes. This is our space, and for what it is worth, it’s our own secret garden. With summer activities, vacations and way too much work, the garden does get neglected. But you know what? Among those weeds, I see that the beans will be ready in a couple of weeks, and I will definitely have the kids help shuck them. And I will smile.

Pura Vallecito

By Jess Kelley

I spent a little time in Costa Rica. Most of it I shouldn’t write about, and most of the rest I can’t remember. One speakable memory is the food. The gallo pinto, specifically. Gallo pinto translates into painted rooster, but it tastes like rice and beans and cilantro and red bell peppers. And lard, but you can’t really taste that, you just see on your hips after months of concentrated mastication.

Gallo pinto is one of those dishes you fall for while living abroad, then attempt to resuscitate at home without luck. Like romances that surface overseas yet out of context are, how-do-you-say, no bueno. The best gallo pinto I had in Costa Rica was at this surfside joint in Puerto Viejo called the Bambu. This bloke from Canada named Bill ran it. You could say he was a mess. He’d take your order, then ask diners at the next table over for money so he could jet to the store to buy the beans or whatnot. He had spent his money on, well, other things. Mess aside, his gallo pinto was magical, even if it took two hours to reach the table.

That’s why I almost sold my passport on the black market the first time I saw gallo pinto on a stateside menu. In Vallecito, of all places. But there it was, at the Pura Vida Café, located 20 miles northeast of Durango, overlooking the lake. Pura Vida is a place you go for breakfast, have the Costa Rican coffee or the “Hot Mary” Bloody Mary (“she’ll pucker your pecker”) and come back later for tacos and boat drinks. Or never leave. That’s what happens in Costa Rica. Time dissolves and next thing you know you’ve got a beard or hairy legs and your plane has left without you. But at least the gallo pinto still tastes good. Pura Vida. Pure Life.

Pura Vida Café owner and chef, Gary Peach, is a southwest Colorado native with a great smile, reddish stubble, light brown eyes and a master of grandiose statements. A self-proclaimed Parrot head (“I’m the biggest one in Colorado”), and snowbird (“As soon as I see a snowflake I run”), Peach opens Pura Vida for about 90 days every summer. The closing date hinges on Jimmy Buffet’s October tour date in Vegas. Then he and half the gypsy staff close up shop and make their way south of the boarder to squander their seasonal winnings.

Peach goes to Playas Del Coco, which is 30 minutes or so from the Nicaraguan boarder and “the seediest fishing village in all of Costa Rica.” During reverse migration in the spring, he hand-carries espresso (which he drinks all day long), in addition to several Central American culinary themes that pepper the mainly New Mexican menu. For example, the Tico Breakfast (Tico means native Costa Rican) includes two eggs, gallo pinto, sour cream, fried banana, bacon or sausage and tortillas. Once a week, Peach drives to the Sundown Bakery on Goddard Street in Ignacio for all of his baked goods. Rich Pinkham, the bakery owner, makes the fresh hoagie rolls, sliced sourdough and all other baked goods for the Pura Vida menu.

For dinner, the steak portion of “My Mom’s Chicken Fried Steak” hails from Greely, Colorado. “I’m the only one on the planet who makes chicken fried steak like this—cut it all by hand, hand-pound the heck out of it, hand bread it and grill it.” Needless to say, it’s a local favorite. The “Big Kahuna Tuna” is fresh ahi—so fresh you’d think they caught it right there in the lake—and is served with a soy, ginger and wasabi sauce. And gallo pinto, of course. Peach’s gallo pinto has those perfectly opaque onions that don’t disappear, and tiny diced red bell peppers for color. It’s so good that for a moment after that first bite, I often consider booking a flight back to do it all again.

Key Lime Pie Martini

But when you can get drinks like a Key Lime Pie martini, or a Jack and Coke float—yes, exactly how it sounds, Jack Daniels, Coke and vanilla ice cream—why go? Breck Stremmel’s drink menu (she’s the head waitress and cocktail wizard) is dynamic enough to make a teetotaler memorize the 12-step program. The straws are so wide half a pineapple can travel through it, and the piña coladas can be served in glasses larger than a middle seat in coach. And if you’ve never, do have a Horchata colada, which is a Mexican cinnamon rice drink with rum and fresh pineapple. Consider this in tandem with the setting. The open-air, lakefront deck is complete with tiki bar; Buffet tunes stream 80 percent of the time; and bacon-wrapped jalapeño poppers are abundant (rated by one diner as a 57 on a 1-to-10 scale).

Now a certified executive chef and master cake maker, Peach got his culinary start when “I was too little to reach the tabletop.” Since then, he’s worked for over 80 restaurants worldwide. He says he knew he wanted to work in the food business forever when he was 15 years old, working at Burger King, and had to call an ambulance because a co-worker became affixed to the walk-in floor while having, ahem, relations. “Truth is so much stranger than fiction,” muses Peach one evening while sitting at a booth, recuperating after a slammin’ evening rush.

Until five years ago, Pura Vida was known to locals as the Shoreline. Since the original owners, Peach says he watched it fail five times, so he changed the name and took up seasonal residence downstairs. This makes it convenient to reach him, since “I’m the only one in the world without a cell phone,” he says. Most of the locals don’t seem to mind the name change, especially those who come in during off hours for his peanut-butter bars or house-made barbeque sauce. One recent evening a frequent, semi-intoxicated diner proclaimed: “This is the greatest place in the world.” He almost looked like Bill, but I can’t really remember.

Pura Vida is open seven days a week from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. and can be reached at (970) 884-2766.

Lawn to Lettuce

by Anna Riling

I park behind a rusting blue Ford with a “biodiesel” bumper sticker, the official fleet vehicle of Your Backyard Harvest, a Durango-based multi-plot farming venture. Armed with a sack lunch and gloves, I’m ready to spend the day helping the owner, Brooke Frazer, till, rake, weed and water.

    Frazer meets me at the gate, introduces herself and thrusts a box of unruly sprouting potatoes my way, their salmon-hued tentacles reaching up and over the edge of the cardboard. “I thought we’d start with these!” she exclaims merrily. We sit down right there in the dirt of her front yard, snipping off chunks of potato to be planted later.
Clad in pink plaid and carpenter pants, with wild hair and a quick laugh, Frazer is immediately likeable, calling to mind a cross between Lucille Ball and a tiny Rosie the Riveter. I learn that she’s the “pivot” on Durango’s roller derby team. When I ask what that entails, she replies cheerily, “I hit people!”
In between body checks and running her own business, she also serves as a vegetable gardener at Elk Park Ranch, dabbles in environmental research analysis and moonlights as a waitress.
She explains how her haphazard resume led to urban agriculture.
“Appropriate energy puts a value on energy consumption,” she says of her master’s degree, “and fits a particular community’s needs to it.”
Whereas agriculture in a rural setting may capitalize on vast amounts of land, urban agriculture adapts to its own attributes, namely vast amounts of land spread out into many small pieces.
Here’s how it works: homeowners allow Frazer to convert their land into garden space in return for a share of the spoils. Frazer has acquired eight urban plots ranging in size from 1,000 to 2,500 square feet. In all, she works about 10,000 square feet of land, enough to feed 50 families. She has sold three Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) shares and has set aside more shares for the owners of the properties she uses. In addition to the CSAs, she sells produce weekly at the Durango Farmers’ Market.
Frazer’s model of urban agriculture aligns closely with that of a method of small scale, multi-plot farming called SPIN, or Small Plot Intensive Farming. The SPIN method seeks to mitigate costs to small scale farmers in ways unfathomable to large scale conventional farms. Because of the small plot size, farmers can save money by working the land themselves instead of hiring laborers. They can construct an inexpensive irrigation system using simple plastic irrigation tubing and garden hoses. Local sources of fertilizer from a ranch or stable mean that the use of toxic and expensive chemicals can be eliminated.
We walk over to a mutual friend’s house, the yard of which she’s converted to a 1,000-square-foot garden. The yard I remember as a dog poop land mine is now occupied by five 20-foot-long “hoop houses” and four neatly raked rows. We remove the plastic from the hoop houses, revealing row upon row of tentative green sprouts. Mustard, arugula, lettuce, radishes, spinach, carrots, onions, beets and peas all poke hesitant green heads out into the crisp morning air.
I wonder aloud if this would feed a whole family. Frazer says, “More like five to six families.”
Later that morning in a sun-bathed Junction Creek field, as Frazer gets tossed around by a temperamental rototiller, I lean on my shovel and survey the newly tamed ground of this basketball court sized field. I consider how much work I put into the two tiny raised beds in my backyard. I ask her if she plans to partner with anyone.
“Oh yeah!” she replies, excited. “I want to create a whole network of urban farmers—more yards, fruit trees, eggs, honey … ”

    If she has her way, first generation farmers would crop up all around us, and a true cooperative venture would take root. Bees from a neighbor’s hive would pollinate a smattering of apricot trees down the street. Backyard chicken coops would provide meals for people and their gardens, in the form of eggs and compost. Eventually, a local and renewable source of farming income would provide a welcome economic boost for the community.
“I want it to be economically sustainable for me, so that it can be my main job,” says Frazer. “Also so that it won’t benefit just me, but provide jobs for others.”
Using low-cost, biointensive farming practices such as strategic planting of closely spaced rows, low pressure drip irrigation and locally sourced fertilizer (she uses composted horse manure from Elk Park Ranch, where she works), Frazer’s one-woman show breathes new life into southwest Colorado’s already vibrant farming community.
On the way back into town, Frazer’s enthusiasm colors my vision. I start to see the neighborhood through her eyes: lawns become lettuce, grass becomes greens, and the meaning of “local food” becomes a simple stroll in the backyard.

The Diva Dines: A city girl celebrates dining out(side) in the San Juans

By Lauren Slaff

There is little question of the driving reason the good folks in our corner of paradise choose to live here. The natural beauty of our surroundings, complete with trademark sunny skies, rugged peaks, rushing rivers and lush Aspen groves call us out for the long awaited summer months.
We’ve finally peeled off our winter layers and endured the muddy spring, ready to rejoice in the bustle of summer farmers’ markets, lively festivals and the commencement of my favorite warm weather sport—dining al fresco.

Isn’t everything more delicious, quenching and intoxicating enjoyed in fresh air? When I’m not getting my hands dirty cooking over a campfire, packing the perfect picnic or celebrating the season around the backyard barbeque, I’m heading out for summer’s tastiest refreshments served by someone else with a view of the San Juans.

Cosmo Bar & Dining
Durango diners are blessed with a glut of fabulous outdoor venues offering ambling patios, backyard gardens and sprawling decks around every corner. But the spot that literally rises above the others is the elegant, lofty rooftop patio at Cosmo Bar & Dining in the heart of historic downtown.

Through the chic dining room and up the top of the stairs, you arrive just a bit closer to heaven. Whether aglow under the setting sun or the rising moon, our LaPlatas take center stage surrounding the tasteful backdrop of muted colors and natural textures of the patio décor. Just steps through the entry adorned with built-in planters hosting fresh herbs plucked daily, you can choose to perch at the bistro-style seating punctuated by a handsome locally crafted concrete and Durango-recycled, crushed-glass bartop. Or allow the congenial hostess to lead you to a shaded “picnic” table on the dining deck, kept misty-cool in the harsh heat of summer and toasty when the high-altitude chill sets in.

If you love open-air dining, then you gotta love open-air drinking. Cool off with a namesake Cosmo or sample a Mountain Mojo, Cosmo’s exotic rendition of a perennial favorite infused with local basil, a hint of ginger and the San Juan’s own Montanya Rum. Or celebrate summer Provençal style, sipping a glass of crisp 2010 Sutcliffe Rose.

Locavore Chef Chris Crowl requisitions an abundance of locally grown and sustainable products. Begin with salads of delicate greens, fragrant herbs, roasted ruby beets, stacks of juicy tomatoes and Crowl’s succulent house-smoked bacon.

Nothing says summer quite like a great burger, and nothing says great burger like Cosmo’s James Ranch “Patio Burger.” Grass-finished beef nestled on a homemade sesame bun, smothered in caramelized onions, gooey Fontina and a ripe slice of Stone Free Farm’s tomato is served with a pile of truffle or sweet potato fries and best accompanied by a frosty local draft. And if you come between 5 and 6 p.m., this perfect pairing will set you back only 10 bucks.

Dishes extracting and celebrating the flavors of summer and our local bounty can include a perfectly grilled soy-butter-basted Mahi-Mahi (a super-sustainable fish) atop a pool of sweet corn risotto, complimented by smoky ancho chile vinaigrette and the crunch of Banga’s Farm sugar snap peas. Dig into a side of Ancient Future’s spicy braising greens studded with house bacon and look for old-fashioned summer accompaniments like Crowl’s latest passion, tangy house made pickles and fermented veggies.

Even if you think you couldn’t eat another bite, treat yourself to a batch of piping made-to-order beignets with lemon-passion-fruit curd or seasonal delights the likes of ripe strawberry shortcake (available gluten-free), a local peach trio or a daily assortment of seasonal house-made ice creams and sorbets. Good thing the lovely weather enhances a nice après-dinner digestive stroll along historic Main Street.

Appetizers and salads from $9 to $12
Pizzas and burgers from $10 to $25 (this one is topped with a lobster tail!)
Entrees from $12 to $36 (yep, there’s that Maine lobster tail again)

919 Main Avenue, Durango/Open daily 5 to 9 p.m.
cosmodurango.com

Kip’s Grill & Cantina
Once you step into the cozy brick house, through the kitschy bar and onto the wrapping deck, you’ve stepped into a scene whose characters run the gamut from rugged cowboys, carefree river rats and hikers, bright-eyed, mineral-soaked tourists and friendly locals of all ages.

Kip’s is a local joint offering a variety of cold local microbrews and enlivened with entertainment performed by talented musicians from ‘round these parts. Casual fare focuses on Baja-style tacos, including the “El Diablo,” “Dynamite Diablo” and “Esteban Special” loaded with local “Buckstop” grilled top sirloin, as well as some of the best fish tacos this side of the border. Let your appetite decide which “Real Big” burger you can handle—from ¼- to ¾-pound monsters. Featuring buffalo and elk raised in neighboring Del Norte and served on freshly baked buns from Pagosa’s own Floured Apron, these babies can be accompanied a side of Kip’s roasted, stuffed green chiles for under a buck. Splurge on a slice of Pagosa Baking Company’s daily pie selections including rhubarb concoctions made from the farms and backyard harvests of Archuleta County friends and neighbors.

121 Pagosa Street, Pagosa Springs/Open daily 11 a.m. to 10 p.m.
kipsgrill.squarespace.com

The Lounge at the Far View Lodge
Having one of the most historic national parks in our backyard is one good reason for hanging around. Tucked among Mesa Verde’s sprawling acres of ancient sites and breathtaking vistas is an all-too-well-kept secret. Perched atop the award-winning Metate Room restaurant at the Far View Lodge, you can soak up the unmatched views of Shiprock and the LaPlatas while treating yourself to a tribute to the Southwest. Slurp a vivid prickly pear margarita from the creative cocktail menu paired with an order of bubbling “Mesa Queso” laden with Dove Creek black beans, roasted sweet corn and Hatch chiles. The Lounge menu offers indigenously focused, imaginative appetizers, soups, salads and sweets to indulge in while basking in the views and sipping a glass of neighboring McElmo Canyon vintner, Guy Drew’s signature un-oaked Chardonnay, an aptly named Metate Red Blend or a cold Colorado microbrew.

Mesa Verde National Park/Open daily from 4 to 10 p.m.
www.visitmesaverde.com

Dolores River Brewery
The tiny river town of Dolores is quietly sheltered amongst the bluffs between Mancos and Cortez, the sprawling McPhee Reservoir and the picturesque stretch of byway heading to Telluride. But this little village is anything but sleepy, and nothing reflects the contagious energy like the vibrant scene at the Dolores River Brewery.

Quench your thirst with a pint or, heck, a pitcher of one of DRB’s own world-class microbrews—my summer fave is the classic “Pale”—and grab a seat among flagstone and foliage on DRB’s newly renovated backyard patio, where devoted table-hopping patrons and newcomers alike indulge in flavorful pizzas, creative salads, sammies and the locals’ favorite, fresh guacamole. Sourcing garden-fresh herbs from Mancos’ Seven Meadows Farm as well as locally crafted goat cheese and locally raised buffalo brings their tasty fare up another notch. With the draw of live music on Saturdays (and some Wednesdays) come thirsty and patient … this popular venue makes everything to order and is worth the wait. Kick back with a frothy brew, place your order and mingle among happy mountain peeps.

100 South 4th Street, Dolores/Open Tuesday through Sunday at 4 p.m. www.doloresriverbrewery.com

Next issue: The Diva Dines—Comfort Food. I’d love your suggestions for your favorite venues and dishes to be considered for the Fall 2011 review. E-mail suggestions and comments to lauren@verypersonalchef.com.

Black-Market Beef

branding season

By Deb Dion

Until last year, if my husband Blake wanted to eat locally raised, grass-fed beef, he had two choices: either spend a big chunk of his paycheck at the Telluride Farmers’ Market or go without. That was before he hooked up with his “dealer.”

We live in Norwood, the rural, ranching community at the opposite end of San Miguel County as Telluride, and most of our neighbors here have tracts of land instead of cramped city lots. Some of them have enough room for a few goats, sheep, chicken, or cows—yet for most of our friends, raising animals is just a hobby. If they produce meat it’s just for their family and a few other people. But if you know someone, or if you know someone who knows someone, you might be able to get your hands on some home-grown, all-natural meat. Even some of the restaurants in Telluride rely on these small-scale ranchers for special, locally grown items. And it is a little like buying drugs: to get the best product you need to cut out the middleman and score large quantities direct from the source.

Typically that large quantity means a few cuts or a quarter of an animal … and usually it has already been butchered. Not this time. Blake had done a few favors around the ranch for a friend of ours who was grateful enough to offer us a cow at cost—a whole cow. A living, young “feeder” calf that would graze and feed at his ranch until it was ready to be processed. The hitch? Blake would have to help him rustle it and haul it to the butcher. (He would also have to buy a full-size freezer to hold the meat until he could divvy it up between friends and family. An entire cow amounts to about 600 pounds of beef.)

You might think that raising a cow a few blocks away at someone else’s ranch is not really getting acquainted with your food source, but for Blake, it was a two-year-long revelation. The way he looks at burgers or steak has changed forever. He didn’t name his cow and he tried not to get too friendly with it … but he did like to visit him. One evening, when he was bringing scraps of food to the herd of cattle, he drove out onto the field and right into their midst. The cows were expecting him and the food, and the throng surrounded Blake’s car in what must have seemed like a menacing way. He froze, unable to open the door. This was not like being stuck on a rural road in the middle of a cattle drive. It was more like being stuck in Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds, only there was no squawking, just mooing. Luckily, he had his cell phone with him and after much heckling he was rescued.

Someone who is too frightened to push their way out of a Subaru and past a few cows is probably not suited to slaughter one. And even though the animal’s actual blood would be on the hands of the processor in Delta, the day that Blake got the call to help wrangle the animal and bring it to the butcher he felt a mixture of guilt and relief. But unlike the mindless trips he used to make to the meat aisle of a grocery store, he felt something. On some visceral level he had made the connection between animal and food, between the living, breathing calf he’d watched grow and the white paper packages of beef cuts.

This is not a connection that everyone makes. In Norwood, there are still people living and working on ranches and 4-H kids raising their own pigs, sheep or cows, but for so many of us, the industrial food complex has taken away all the messiness and reality of animal products like beef. One of the best things to come out of the local food movement is that it is bringing some of that reality back. For Blake, it was a lesson in the true value of local, grass-fed beef, and he will never again question the cost.

Success with the Excess

By Anna Riling

‘Tis the season for seasonal dishes! That’s the glass-is-half-full way of saying, “What the heck do I do with all this (fill-in-the-blank)?” I’m guilty of avoiding a farmer’s market or two for fear of coming home with yet another fistful of irresistible veggies for which I’ve exhausted my culinary repertoire. That, and forcing bags of greens and zucchini the size of a healthy baby on unsuspecting friends and family. However, necessity is the mother of invention. Never more does that ring true when you’re staring down a five-gallon bucket of apples, ten pounds of roma tomatoes or, for that matter, a full stringer of fresh-caught trout. There’s more than one way to skin a cat; I’ve just found I had to dig a little deeper.
Off the “Beeten” Path

If you ask Tom Robbins, the path to immortality is paved with beets (and hot tubs). That “muddy whisker drilling desperately for rubies” figures prominently and prolifically at southwest Colorado farmer’s markets. Anything with such a murderous hue provides an interesting culinary challenge. Of course, you can roast them, use them in salads—hot or cold—or try borscht. I don’t know many kids (or husbands for that matter) that, of their own volition, will mow down a heaping dish of bloody tubers. This recipe is a simple, healthy take on the time-honored potato chip. If the color still throws ‘em off just tell them to give it a try—they just might live forever.

Beet Chips

Beet Chips

Ingredients
3 medium beets, peeled
Sea salt

Directions
1. Preheat oven to 350°.
2. Slice the beets very thinly (about one millimeter) using a mandolin.
3. Lay the slices onto parchment paper-lined baking sheets. Sprinkle with salt.
4. Bake for 15-20 minutes, being careful not to burn them.
Remove from oven and cool.

Rocket: Don’t Knock It

There’s a reason arugula is also called rocket—as in, plant it and it’s off like one. When my friend gave me a baggie with some arugula seeds a couple of years ago, I had no idea I’d create a monster. I stuffed a whole row full of the deceptively innocuous tiny brown seeds. A few weeks later, I had enough arugula to generate some serious revenue at any farmer’s market. I couldn’t give the stuff away fast enough. This year, I was more modest with my sowing, but those plants have a love affair with Colorado soil. It’s hard to muster enthusiasm for its pungency and spice every day, but that same tang is a surprisingly sublime substitute for the traditional basil in this pesto.

Arugula and Toasted Walnut Pesto

Ingredients
2 cups packed arugula leaves
1/2 cup walnuts
1/2 cup Parmesan cheese, shredded
1/2 cup olive oil
6 garlic cloves, unpeeled
1/2 garlic clove, peeled and minced
1/2 teaspoon salt

Directions
1. Brown six garlic cloves with peels on in skillet over medium high heat until garlic is lightly browned in places, about 10 minutes. Remove garlic from pan, cool, and remove skins.
2. Toast nuts in toaster oven on high for about four minutes, being careful not to burn them.
3. Combine the arugula, salt, walnuts and roasted and raw garlic into a food processor. Pulse while drizzling the olive oil into the processor. Place mixture in a bowl and add the Parmesan cheese.

Trout: Go Coastal

Two things happened to bring this recipe to fruition. The first involved a couple of cutthroat trout, an ill-timed monsoon, a doused campfire and a lunch of unintentional and utterly unappetizing mountain sushi. The second was a trip to the north coast of Peru and a heavenly week of three square meals a day of ceviche. Fresh seafood in southwest Colorado is, to put it mildly, hard to come by. But fresh trout? Walk out your door with a four-weight and a Parachute Adams and you’ve got yourself a meal. Instead of the tried-and-true lemon-butter-salt-foil method, subject to errant weather, why not go coastal? Let the limes do the work, and leave the campfires to the Boy Scouts.

trout ceviche

Trout Ceviche

Ingredients

2 whole trout, filleted and skinned*
Juice of 5-6 limes
1/4 bunch cilantro, roughly chopped
1/4 cucumber, seeded, peeled and diced
1 whole red pepper, finely diced
1/2 red onion, minced
1/4 teaspoon cayenne
Salt and pepper to taste

Directions
1. Dice fish into half-inch pieces.
2. Combine everything into a non-reactive (stainless steel, glass or ceramic) bowl.
3. Refrigerate for one hour.
4. Garnish with sliced limes or sprigs of cilantro.

*Intimidated by all those bones? Self described “fishmonger” Tim Staehler of Sunnyside Meats in Durango will graciously and expertly do the legwork of filleting for you. He’ll even show you how it’s done.