MY ASPEN

I've slept in my car there~ate off other diner's plates~packed slopes in exchange for lift tickets~downed Elk brats, trout dip~discovered Yak meat~and followed Hunter S. Thompson's tracks

MAROON BELLS. Just outside of Aspen, Colorado, they’re some of the most iconic, postcard perfect mountains in the U.S. West. Here, with quaking aspens trees interspersed with majestic fir in September and early October.

I RECENTLY READ this in the Wall Street Journal. The number of Aspen, Colorado-area homes selling for more than $30 million leaped from two in 2020 to 17 in 2022. Not surprisingly, the cost of construction of homes there can run to $3,000 per square foot. That’s not the Aspen I know.

My Aspen is about exhilarating experiences, about unmatched natural beauty. My Aspen first memory came into being decades ago. In 1966, at the Sigma Alpha Epsilon (ΣΑΕ) house at Iowa State University one of my fraternity brothers from Colorado was talking about his upcoming spring break that year. In the dormitory bathroom in front of a half dozen sinks and a massive mirror he jabbered about something I’d never heard about before—downhill skiing. He even said it was “better than sex,” another something I knew absolutely nothing about. But when a college kid hears those piercing words, he must surely go! My college years pre-dated the “Summer of Love” at Berkeley. In fact, my frat boy days were light years away from Berkeley. They were at Moo U—as I.S.U. was nicknamed—in the middle of Iowa farmland. Culturally, Aspen, Colorado, was to Ames, Iowa, as Aspen Highland’s 4,000 foot vertical drop was to Iowa’s 275 foot vertical drop at it’s only ski hill just 17 miles from where those temptingly prophetic words were spoken. My Aspen meant sleeping in my car. Meant waiting tables in restaurants with the only pay being leftover medium-rare New York strip steak I could wolf down between a diner’s table and the dishwasher. Meant packing a fresh snowfall by sidestepping my way up a slope to earn a day’s lift ticket. Such measures made possible a visit to a killingly pricy resort area for a college kid. That visit to Aspen was about a pauper surviving in a place where princes went for winter holiday.

THE FOOD I worked as a waiter in some snappy restaurant, only for the massive mouthfuls of rare ribeyes I could chow down between clearing the tables and entering the dishwasher, enough times a night to score a free meal.

My next trip to Aspen during college was the following year with a pack of my fraternity brothers with sorority girls from Kappa Kappa Gamma (ΚΚΓ), Theta (ΚΑΘ), and Pi Phi houses (ΠΒΦ). Our posse stayed at the T-Lazy-7 Ranch. It was outfitted with a sauna and an outdoor hot tub, a short dash through pillows of snow, which we took much delight flopping around in before plunging into the hot tub. This ranch has been operating since 1938 in the Maroon Creek valley, at the end of which is the Maroon Bells. This visit can only be remembered for sweaty frat boys and sorority girls rollicking in the snow.

THE FOOD If I ate, I have no memory of it. Perhaps that's because we drank so much beer we either forgot about the food or forgot to eat.

ROARING FORK RIVER

Every last one of Aspen’s celestial charms were on display earlier this month. My attention this time was on mountain valleys, often mile after mile of wondrous vistas, something akin to heaven on earth. Such beauty started when a group of us drove from Denver over the Continental Divide at Independence Pass, altitude 12,095 feet, on our way to stay in “Riverhouse,” a VRBO in the Roaring Fork Valley. It’s a homey, comfy cabin on the bank of the Roaring Fork River and a stone’s throw from the Woody Creek Tavern—a mere 8 miles from Aspen—in Woody Creek made famous by Hunter S. Thompson’s love affair with illegal drugs and firearms.

Deer often crossed the Roaring Fork River to dine on grasses by the Riverhouse while rainbows and browns are constantly tempted in those trout-choked waters.

THE FOOD We enjoyed home-cooked meals every other night after lunch out, alternating with a night out at a favorite local restaurant. Pre-dinner drinks the first night at the Jerome Hotel Bar were on our minds. It dates back to the silver boom and bust of the 1ate 1800's. Cowboys were known to ride through the front doors there. The U.S. Army's 10th Mountain Division soldiers——an eclectic mix of college boys, cowboys, and ski bums——gathered for pints after their pre-World War II training. And it's where Hunter S. Thompson held court during his 1970 run for county sheriff. I opted for a pre-dinner glass of Jean-Marc Pillot 2020 Bourgogne, "Le Haut des Champs." A sublime Italian restaurant named Acquolina in downtown Aspen was the choice that night. I had pappardelle with braised lamb ragù, fava beans & light cream. Oh what a treat! Another special dinner out was at Mod's Thai House in nearby Basalt.

The spectacular Jerome Hotel lounge near the bar

One day we four-wheeled up the face of Ajax Mountain on Ajax Mountain Road, straight up from downtown Aspen at 8,000 feet past multiple chair lifts that suring the ski season shuttle 10,000+ riders per hour to various points on the mountain and to its 11,200 foot peak.

THE FOOD Lunch was an assortment of sandwiches from a local deli. Mine was tuna salad and bottled water from home. Friends provided the chips. The feast that day was neither the vista nor the meal, but the utter joy of watching one diminutive poodle shih tzu mix and an Australian Terrier, both brought by our group, romping in the snow.

Jake & Dash

CASTLE CREEK ROAD

Another incomparable valley we explored was up Castle Creek Road, enveloped in quaking aspen trees, to the Pine Creek Cook House at an elevation of 9,500 feet, towered over by 13,000 foot peaks. Pine Creek is nestled in the Ashcroft Valley 12 miles upstream Castle Creek from Aspen. It makes a stinkin’ fine setting for high west weddings. The 1879 ghost town of Ashcroft is a silver mining town dating back to the early 1900’s. The last time I was there was in winter. I cross-country skied there for dinner.

Quaking aspens paint nearby mountainsides

Shooting up an endless valley

THE FOOD I went all local at Pine Creek Cookhouse. Elk Bratwurst with caramelized onion, Peppadew sweet piquanté pepper salsa, Dijon sauce, butter toasted Jewish challah roll, and fregula chick pea tabbouleh. Several in our group ordered smoked trout dip. I passed over smoked trout with crostinis, crispy capers, preserved lemon, dill aoili; bison ribs; wild field elk strip; and Broken Arrow Ranch quail frisée salad. A fine Upsloap Lager was the chosen drink of the lunch. 

MAROON BELLS

The T-Lazy-7 today offers a smörgåsbord of fun: snowmobile tours, summer horseback riding, fly-fishing, and venues for any stinkin’ party you can think of.

CAPITOL PEAK

Also on our itinerary was a valley was up to Capitol Creek. On the way we visited the almost-shuttered 3,000 acre St. Benedict’s Monastery. Turns out the aging population of this enchanting Trappist community of Snowmass Monks isn’t being supplemented by enough of the following generations to keep it open. We attended Vespers some years ago and looked forward to them again, but, alas, they were a casualty of closing down. Further on up a bouncy road, we spread out for a picnic lunch at about 9,000 feet with 180 degree views of the joy of the best autumn in five years, according to the U.S. Forest Service in Colorado. Capitol Peak stood 14,137 feet tall in the distance.

THE FOOD. All six of us in our group packed picnic lunches for the trip. Mine was ham, swiss, and lettuce on white bread, with a side of sea salt potato chips. Lunch, as it happens, couldn't hold a candle to the vistas of heaven on earth that enveloped us.

CAPITOL PEAK IN THE DISTANCE Aspen trees are the largest living organism on earth because each is connected to the next through their shared root system

DOWNTOWN

The White House Tavern is an insanely popular lunch spot. It’s the #1 restaurant of 92 in Aspen on TripAdvisor and #1 on yelp out of 113. It doesn’t take reservations. The wait can be more than an hour for one of its 61 seats. On summer and fall Saturdays, a trip around the nearby Aspen Market is a fine distraction. And in that market, I encountered yak meat for the very first time. Its purveyor boasts that yak is fine grained like elk while leaner and more tender than beef.

I’m told morels stewed in fresh cream served over a yak steak and accompanied by yak butter can be delightful. Abundant Life Organic Farms has yak if you’re tempted to prepare yak head for dinner with friends soon. But, be warned: They don’t ship.

THE FOOD My choice for lunch at The White House Tavern was its crispy chicken sandwich. A buttermilk marinated breast with a secret crust topped with a slaw dressing made with French yellow mustard powder and jalapeños. I'm way keen on both Gus's World Famous Fried Chicken and Chic-fil-A. This may have been better! The Gulf Coast style fish sandwich is the most famous dish here but it's often sold out early in the day and was on our day there.

FRITTATA MORNINGS, NOONS, AND NIGHTS

FRITTATA IS AN open-faced omelet. It is a mixture of eggs and dairy with meat, cheese, and vegetables. It’s also a crustless quiche. Like an omelet, a frittata calls for pouring uncooked eggs over its ingredients. You can go wild with frittatas. Try bell pepper, cherry tomatoes, and goat cheese. Try honeynut squash, caramelized red onion, and crème fraîche with thyme. Try bacon, asparagus, and baby spinach with cheddar or Gruyère cheese.

Remember to avoid a loose, watery, or overcooked frittata. Keep your frittata simple. Too many components will muck it up and prevent the egg custard from cooking evenly. Instead, choose just a few fave ingredients. Monitor the moisture in your frittata. Sauté watery ingredients to rid your dish from some moisture. To check your doneness during cooking by inserting a toothpick into the center. When the toothpick comes out clean, you’re good to go. You want a frittata with a firm jiggle, not a wobble.

Here are some choice recipes. Basic frittata by Boxwood Ave. Pesto-goat-cheese-frittata by Camille Styles. Leftover pasta frittata by David Leites. Mini sausage frittatas by The Spruce Eats. Salmon and arugula frittata with pesto from Food & Wine.

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