Aspen Peak - Niche Media - Aspen living at its peak
Issue link: http://digital.greengale.com/i/129660
and Finally ... MIND YOUR PEAKS & QS feeding your inner fiend ASPENITES HAVE WAITED OUT THE COLD WINTER IN ANTICIPATION OF THE SUMMER FOOD & WINE CLASSIC, BUT SHALL PERSEPHONE MAKE A PIG OF HERSELF? BY ALISON BERKLEY MARGO A After two hours of frantically running back and forth between the two big tents in six-inch platform espadrilles, trying to eat and drink as much as I can in the time allotted, akin to one of those demented game shows, I figure at least I'm getting some exercise. And there just may have been enough berry notes in the dozen or so glasses of Pinot Noir I tasted that it's practically the same thing as my daily açaí smoothie. So what if the lady at the Stella Artois booth offered me bottled water because she thought I was pregnant? I calmly explain I'm just bloated from Marc Forgione's fried Mangalista pork rinds. It's not my place to give an Iron Chef the ol' "I can't eat that because I'm kosher" excuse. It's too bad I'll have to burn that empire-waist dress when I get home because I actually kind of liked it. By the end of the event, I've spent more time and energy analyzing what I'm eating and drinking than my therapist does in a double session after a weekend with my mother. Between the farm-to-table movement, sustainable produce, and grass-fed meat, in addition to countless conversations about what the weather was the day the grapes in my wine were harvested, I know more about my food and drink than I do about my husband. It's not just about eating, see; it's food as art, the concept of food, the aesthetic. Talk about a mind-body connection. It's practically a yoga class. Last year during a panel discussion at the Chefs Club by Food & Wine restaurant at the St. Regis Resort, Tom Colicchio best summed it up: "I don't know if food should be a competition," he said. For Aspen, letting go of that drive is a good thing. It's the one time of year we don't need to be first to the finish line. As the old saying goes, "It's not over until the fat lady sings." Or at least until someone wrongly assumes she is pregnant. AP in A maz gly A sp en! ILLUSTRATION BY PAUL DICKINSON spen is a health- and fitness-obsessed town, a place where we flit around in our designer workout clothes so we can sashay from a morning run down the Rio Grande Trail to some trendy yoga class. Our lunch date means a hike up Smuggler followed by a grass-in-theglass smoothie. It's a place where simple questions such as, "May I take your order?" may take all day, the waiter's eyes glazing over before I'm through telling him everything I can't have. Raw, vegan, dairy-free—whatever—that all goes out the window during the anticipated annual Food & Wine Classic in Aspen. As soon as I set foot under that big white tent for the first Grand Tasting and get a whiff of the Best New Chefs table, I've forgotten the gluten-free craze. I mean, how many calories can there be in an amuse-bouche, for crying out loud? I don't care if you can hike Ajax in less than an hour, there's no use in fighting it; your goose is literally cooked. Kale be damned. Pork is all the rage (again) this year, so you might as well embrace it and your inner pig. No matter what my yoga guru says, if Mario Batali is in the house, it doesn't matter if it's good for you because it's sure as hell going to taste good. The kinetic energy pulsing through the three-day event isn't just because of the celebrity chefs or the culinary delights or the endless flow of wine coursing through our veins like the Roaring Fork River during spring melt off. It's because we Aspenites have been running, biking, and hiking 50 miles a day (okay, 30) on a diet of dehydrated fruit and chia seeds for the last six months, thanks to our personal trainers who've urged us to "go raw." Alas, we've finally been let out of the gate and into the pen. I may look like I have it together, donning my summer duds while my newly highlighted blonde hair skims the brim of my favorite cowboy hat, Ray-Ban aviators battling the sun and a hangover. But behind those mirrored lenses, I'm like a rabid animal, gorging on chard-wrapped pork rolls, braised rabbit tacos, and venison tartar like it really is the forbidden fruit. 180 ASPENPEAK-MAGAZINE.COM 180_AP_BOB_AndFinally_SUM_Fall_13.indd 180 5/6/13 10:13 AM