The Shed Saves Dinner

Shed Red how do I love thee. Let me...gimme that.....

It's been about 53 days, 16 hours, and 23 minutes since we had lunch at The Shed in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Not that I'm counting, but its been a while and we polished off the last of the Shed Red chile sauce we brought home with us from our New Mexican road trip.

While last night I experienced a bit of culinary inspiration (pesto/pancetta/feta stuffed chicken thighs with mashed potatoes, roasted carrots and a quickie beurre blanc to go over it all) tonight was another matter all together.

Tonight involved no pre-dinner inspiration, and motivated by dwindling funds, we opt to just go straight home and see what we can make for dinner using the current contents of the fridge and pantry.

Then I saw that almost empty jar of Shed Red. Just like the earthy heat lights up my taste buds, the jar of sauce sparked of inspiration for tonight. When in doubt: huevos rancheros.

A simple cheese quesadilla was placed underneath some home fries and pinto beans, then two over-easy eggs, all topped with a generous spoonful of Shed Red.

In those first few bites I am kind-of, sort-of, maybe-just-a-little, gone away to Santa Fe. Earthy low burn heat that cranks up as you work your way through the dish. Tasty heat that sneaks up on you in the form of the slightest patina of sweat on your brow and the little places under your eyes. Huevos Rancheros or any hash-type meal rarely fails to satisfy or comfort. The same can be said for the Shed Red.

That's 53 days, 16 hours, and 34 minutes now. Just in case you were keeping track....

Latte Art of the Day

Trust me, they don't all look like this.

Birthday-worthy dinner?

After an unusually manic Monday at work I had let the dinner plans, uh, shall we say: slide. After a quick trip to Montana Fish Company I was the proud owner of four huge scallops and four pieces of halibut cheek.

The above items, paired with some angel-hair pasta and a spoonful of leftover home made pesto made for an appropriately elegant dinner. I seared the scallops to a medium rare in olive oil, and sauteed the halibut cheeks in a little butter and garlic. Tossing in just a splash of wine and a bit more butter, I had a nice little pan sauce to enhance the gems already on the plate.

A premiere-cru Chablis cuts like a laser beam through the richness of the dish with its lean flavors and minerally finish.

Success.

Escape to Jackson Hole: Part 2

The white noise of the hotel room heater/AC unit having done its job, we awake to a sunny day doing its best penetrate the seams of the curtain drawn across the hotel room window.

Having enjoyed dinner at Trio last night, we know now that the food advice we received was solid (thanks, Niki!); so we opt for one of the breakfast recommendations: Pearl Street Bagels. This choice was reinforced by the PSB ad that featured a bagel, of course...but also an image of a perfectly poured latte with a clean Rosetta clearly visible in the foam.

The tiny bagel joint had a steady stream of what were clearly regulars coming and going. The bagel selection included pumpernickel among about a dozen other flavors. Pumpernickel I should mention is a variety not offered by Bozeman's Bagel Works. I, of course wanted a latte...that looked like the one in their ad or maybe like this one.

The coffee, while very good...didn't quite deliver visually. No Rosetta here, just a nice abstract swirl of espresso crema and steamed milk micro-foam. Hey, they were busy...and I'm sure that I probably looked like the mouth-breathing, big eyed tourist that I was. The pumpernickel bagel on the other hand was great; having the perfect balance of slightly crunchy skin, chewy, but somehow light interior. The generous schmear of salmon cream cheese made it a complete meal.

After breakfast we head up into the fantastically sunny - and empty - Grant Teton National Park. Other than the sun, a couple of moose and a handful of other visitors, it felt like we had a private showing for two of the entire Teton Range.

Don't let the sun fool you, it was about 18 degrees.

Millionaires and wannabees aside, Jackson and the Tetons rarely disappoint.

Escape to Jackson Hole: Part 1

"...Sometimes whatever you're looking for is right in you backyard." Whoever said this anyway? Oh, uh...I did...two posts ago. Que lastima!

That theory may work on Wednesday...but its Saturday and we left town. Taking advantage of the off-season rates, we escaped to Jackson Hole for a quick weekend getaway. Do we need an excuse? Okay, it's Jen's birthday!

Jackson, Wyoming where its said the at the billionaires have chased out the millionaires, is what it is: a resort town for the well-heeled and the wish-I-was-well-heeled that happens to be bordered by the stunning Grand Teton National Park.

Enjoying Jackson's uncrowded spring off-season, we tour the National Museum of Wildlife Art. Not just mountain lions and grizzly bears this museum has a surprising collection that includes both well known genre-artists like Batemen, Catlin and Bodmer, but also O'keefe and Warhol. Who knew?

For dinner we were directed to Trio by a colleague. Recognized by Food & Wine magazine in 2008, Trio is a hip-gastro-pub/American Bistro that offers everything waffle fries with a blue cheese fondue (missing this is a fon-don't!...*sorry*) to wood fired pizzas and more traditional entrees like risottos and pastas.

In a moment of weakness (clarity?) we order the aforementioned waffle fries with our cocktails. Look, I am not sure what Warren Buffet had for dinner, but I am willing to wager that whatever it was it wasn't as good as the fried goodness in front of us - especially if you include our cocktails: a basil mojito and a lemon-rosemary-vodka concoction.

That combo alone could have made for a great dinner....but we didn't drive five hours to have french fries and liquor....not that there is anything wrong with that, mind you.

Round two in the food department involves something not fried: two salads. One of classic arugula-olive oil-lemon-Parmesan the other field greens, roasted mushrooms, Point Reyes blue cheese and candied walnuts.

A stout, but balanced 2005 Groth Cabernet Sauvignon goes well with the salads and the simple but delicious pizza margarita that serves as our main course. Watching the pizza from dough-toss to flaming wood-fired oven in the open kitchen added to the experience, I'm sure.

For dessert I was delighted to find a cheese option...an assortment of manchego with honey, fontina with orange zest, cheddar with herbs and Point Reyes blue with a balsamic reduction was a perfect ending to enjoy the wine lingering in my glass.

Tomorrow: Breakfast and the Tetons.

Latte Art of the Day

I liked this one...it tasted good....and I wanted to share.

Western Cafe and Colombo's: Bozeman Classics

Wanderlust, in all its restorative goodness has its limits. Sometimes, the good stuff is right there in front of you. Maybe...just maybe...right where you are is better than just about any place else. At least today, and at least at a couple of Bozeman institutions, downtown's Western Cafe and the south side's Colombo's pizza, this is the case for me.

While downtown continues to heal after the recent destruction, life continues. At noon today, I walked four blocks to my bank, five blocks to the Western Cafe and afterwords, next door to the barber shop (two stools and one dog).

The Western Cafe is a trip to another era with Formica tables and lunch counter, vinyl counter-stools and chairs, and menu standards like patty melts, calf liver and onions, BLT, and chicken fried steak. Today I go for a cheeseburger and fries. Funny how seemingly difficult it is to crank out a burger and fries these days that doesn't suck. I am happy to say that my burger today - hand made, fries and all - definitely didn't suck.

Hand made fries....why don't more places do this? Aren't potatoes cheap? Doesn't this just add one, maybe two steps (if you bother blanching) to the whole french-fry process? Regardless, the fries at the Western started their day as a whole potato ended it in my belly. Crispy, crunchy, tender, brown. Good. The burger had the slightest hint of pink in the middle and was juicy and good. The bun was not a huge focaccia or ciabatta, it was a white bread bun - the perfect spongy delivery vehicle for the cheesy-beefyness within. I was shut down and kind of freaked out when I didn't get the piece of home-made pie I wanted: a towering slice of lemon meringue. If you want ample pie selection, its best to go early.

Keeping with the home-town-old-school theme and needing some mid-week comfort food for dinner, we headed to Colombo's pizza near the university. Colombo's pizza is thin, cracker-crusted pizza that isn't going to challenge anyone. It's fresh, it's salty and it's good. You won't find some food writer (irony alert) waxing about their innovative toppings, but you will find house-made Italian sausage, fresh basil and all the usual suspects present on the menu. Green olives, a favorite of mine for old-school pizza which can be hard to find these days, also available.

The thin and salty macro-brew-lite-beer pairs perfectly with the Pizza and the Billy-Joel-red-brick-and-paneling-1978-pizza-joint decor. Not just a pizza place...Colombo's can be a trip back to my childhood. A little Aerosmith with your pepperoni? Yes please.

Back to the whole wanderlust thing.... In recent posts I talk about noteworthy burgers (here and here and here) that I traveled great distances to savor; I also gushed about some next-level pizza in San Antonio. Here I am today however, just steps from my office, just minutes off some conference call savoring the same goodness...in my own backyard.