In our modern day society technology and mass production has, perhaps, made food too “fast” and readily available.  Gone are the days when people ate to fill a need, an actual hunger; we now eat to fill our desires, mostly emotional.  I am guilty as charged, but a recent trip to Aspen Colorado reminded me that the food we eat serves a purpose.  It’s our bodies’ fuel, without which we cannot “run” or sit at our desks all day, be it as it may… 

 

 

 

I watch in wonder as my more athletic friends strive to obtain the correct protein to carb ratio for their big run, opting myself for a different sort of carb load, that will remain undisclosed, for my own ammo…  The fuel we “pump” into ourselves, however, should match energy expended and it should be composed of the proper nutrients necessary to maintain good health.  It’s quite simple really.  This is not to say that I will cease to dine out for the pleasure associated with old friends and new tastes, and it’s certainly not to say that I will stop overindulging for curiosities sake.  But I do hope to take with me a big dose of organic, farm fresh, 6 grain, Rocky Mountain wisdom and remember that when the need is unavoidable, as it is for these extreme athletes, you will and must adhere.

 

Since I am writing this from the plane while snacking on my last remaining goodies from our favorite breakfast spot, I will give Main Street Bakery the first honorable mention.  Everything’s good and, if it’s not, they’ll tell you.  Specific shout outs go to the Berry Wraps, homemade 6 grain bread, scones, pecan roll, corned beef hash, and blueberry bran, carrot, and pumpkin muffins.  Yes, we ate there every day.  You can expect to see some attempts at recreating their Main Street morning magic in the near future.

 

Now for a recap of our trip, culinary and otherwise.  We arrived Saturday afternoon to an unseasonably warm day/week and a town painted yellow with the changing leaves of the many Aspen trees, which are the largest living organism in the world!  After wandering around town, a mix of designer bling and athletic gear, we settled down at Ajax for the sunset and a glass of wine.  The view from this restaurant, next to the gondola at the foot of Aspen Mountain, cannot be beat! 

 

 

The following day we continued to get acquainted with the town.  Due to monthly ailments, I opted out of heavy activity in favor of lounging in our hotel, which was built pre-prohibition and apparently in a much more rich and detail oriented time.  The distinctive charm of our room laden with crown molding, heavy fabrics, bronzed sculptures, tassels, and such provided a sharp contrast to the IKEA countenances of places today.  I wonder if this too is a result of our acquisitive and insatiable economy and if more actually is less.  Were we to have to pay a premium and/or work harder for the things in our lives would we make better and more quality choices that would prove more beneficial in the long run?  I digress. 

 

Once we escaped the relaxed comfort of the hotel we were greeted by another beautiful day.  We rode the gondola up Aspen Mountain for lunch, hiking, playing, and snapping pictures of the powder-free slopes at the top.  The views are much different when just the tips of the mountains are capped in snow, but nonetheless amazing.  It’s also quite refreshing to use the restrooms without the arduous removal of layer upon layer of insulation.

 

Days 3 & 4 found us ready for adventure.  Luckily the half day horseback ride, which was more like a whole day, didn’t leave us too sore for the marathon day of hiking and biking to follow.  So after another substantial breakfast at Main Street, we drove our slightly sore little butts to Maroon Bells where we spent four hours hiking up about 2,00 feet over rocks, under falling yellow leaves, and around Maroon and Crater lakes. 

 

Upon our return we were more than grateful for the recommended Grateful Deli’s delicious sprout and avocado sandwiches on whole wheat bread, of course, and a nap.  The nap was short lived, however, as I quickly became extremely concerned that my bike ride, which I had spent months in spinning classes preparing for, would not materialize with the forecasted snow.  So we jumped up, rented bikes, and headed for the Rio Grande trail which, in my opinion, showed us the best views yet.

 

About 7 miles later we decided it best if Mommy didn’t have to suffer through the 7 mile uphill trek back, so we paused for a drink at the conveniently located Woody Creek Tavern and left her by her with just a class of pinot to keep her company while waiting on a cab to bring her back.  Another 7 miles later and back at the hotel, we learned that Mommy was still at Woody Creek Tavern with bartender Tim and numerous locals, all of whom she could now introduce us to by name, hometown, and occupation.  Lucky for our starving overexerted selves, because we now got to return to “rescue” her and indulge in their famous margaritas, homemade tamales, and enchiladas.  After a John Oates sighting, stories of regulars past like Hunter S. Thompson, and a round of drinks and subsequent hugs from the many men at the bar that took care of my deserted mother while we were away, we left fat and happy.       

 

 

The following day I managed a teeny bike ride amidst the wind and rain and Jell-o which was my legs.  We caught a movie at the Opera House which also serves as the venue for other more cultured events like, perhaps, an opera…  And then went to the Wild Fig across the street for a cozy dinner for three.  If I were to ever open a restaurant, I’d like it to be small and intimate like the Wild Fig: dim lighting, cozy cramped tables, and a small but well planned menu with an assortment of gelatos for dessert.  I had the Lamb Shank with a fig sauce over polenta, which I highly recommend and plan to recreate. 

 

Finally, as many final days of vacation can be described, we spent our last and now snowy day relaxing.  If you find yourself in need of both a recuperating and humbling experience, check out the Bikram yoga studio.  You’ll find many a toned and leggy Aspenian dawning next to nothing and trying to maintain their obviously well fueled bodies in the “off season.”  I should probably 1 – get involved in something seasonal so I might understand that whole concept and 2 – refrain from lunches like the one that followed for awhile.

 

Following yoga and a long hot shower we headed downstairs to the J-Bar to sample “Aspen’s Best Hamburger!”  And, let me tell you, I think it might have been the best.  Try it piled high with the cheese of your choice, Applewood smoked bacon, and whatever else your little heart desires be it eggs, avocado, or even peanut butter?!  If you disagree that this burger is the best, you probably have poor taste in condiment coordination.  Even so, there’s absolutely no way you can deny the perfection that is their sweet potato fries – dusted in BOTH salt & sugar with 1000 Island dressing on the side.  The memory of the waif-like girls from yoga prevented me from also ordering the infamous bourbon milkshake, but I’m pretty sure it deserves a repeat visit.

 

There were actually two bars in our hotel, the other being the more sophisticated Library lounge where the walls were lined with fewer books than you might imagine, but the bar runneth over.  Since I failed to try the signature drink at J-Bar earlier that day, I was dead set on trying the Library’s pre-prohibition Sazerac.  Yes, it was slightly uncomfortable ordering a drink consisting of mostly rye whiskey with my parents, but anything in the name of research!  Surprisingly, it was less repulsive than I had imagined and resulted in only a minor squinty face upon the last few sips…  Give me a break dear reader – I’m still a girl, dare I say lady, under 30.

 

I hate to admit it, but the remainder of the day, Dad excluded, consisted of more lounging, napping, and shopping for takeaways in a town that is surprisingly void of tacky and memorable souvenirs.  Alas, we settled for more timeless purchases including an antique oil painting and cedar frame from an exclusive ski shop.  Since I’m writing this for a food blog, I’ll conclude with our two most delicious dinners at the Italian restaurants (duh), Gisella and Campo de Fiori, which we later learned were sister restaurants.  Gisella was a tad more fancy and unique, Campo more traditional and relaxed, but both had fabulous service, an exceptional grilled calamari appetizer, literally flowing wine, and free margaritas?  Just don’t leave without the semifreddo!  You’re on vacation – you can fuel properly back at home.