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Recipe: hamachi yellowtail crudo

We’ve lived in the mountains of Colorado for eleven years now. When we first arrived, a week of truly hot weather was about all one could expect of the summer months. Over the years, those temperatures are trending hotter and sticking around longer in summer. I should note that we are particularly observant of hot weather because WE HATE IT. So it was with great joy that we welcomed the return of the monsoon last week. That stupid high pressure cell that was sitting on top of us (and fanning the flames of that wildfire) shifted east so that moisture from the Gulf of Mexico (south of us) could deliver the goods in the form of rain and thunderstorms.

composite lightning strikes

lightning at sunset

rainbows, the marriage of sun and rain

Oddly, after a few good soaking rains, the clouds have been building up and then fizzling out. We can see rain over neighboring canyons and ridges, but there seems to be a giant sucker hole (blue hole in a sky of clouds) over our neighborhood at any given time. We don’t have air conditioning at our house, so we work hard to cool it at night and keep it as cool as possible during the sun’s march across the sky. Just today, Jeremy and I discussed the logistics of getting an evaporative cooler installed before next summer. It is most efficient in arid climates and it’s much cheaper to run than air conditioning.

For now, we are sucking it up and continuing with our summer schedule of trail runs, hikes, and paddles. The higher you climb, the cooler it is – at least if the atmosphere is adiabatic, which it kind of is (Jeremy says to disregard water vapor). The high country is beautiful right now. Lush, green carpets splattered with colorful wildflowers and lingering snowfields paint these rocky mountains above the dark mantles of conifer forests. We are running farther and climbing higher, racing against the season and racing ourselves. Actually, that’s only half true. Jeremy is racing against himself. I’m not racing anyone. I’m noodling along and stopping to look for mushrooms or checking on the progress of the huckleberries, snapping selfies and photos along the way, shouting hello to Mr. Rabbit so I don’t go startling Ms. Moose. This is why we run separately. But it’s nice when our two routes overlap and we can say hi.

after a steep climb, i wait for jeremy to arrive from the other side of the ridge

off days are meant for hikes with neva

jeremy refuels on the trail during his 17-miler

hiking with erin and banjo

paintbrush come in so many beautiful colors

lunch with a view at king lake

We still have two months of summer remaining, and yet it’s already impossible to do all the things we had hoped to accomplish before the next season moves in. I suppose you could say that just leaves more for next summer. Something I did manage to check off my list was making hamachi (yellowtail) crudo with finger lime pearls. I’ve been waiting until I could order some from Shanley Farms when the season started at the end of June and I finally got some!

radishes, orange oil, togarashi, vegetable oil, orange, flake sea salt, finger limes, hamachi (not pictured: ponzu sauce)

I first heard of finger limes when a friend in Australia asked if I had seen them here in the States. I hadn’t. These were originally discovered growing wild in Australia and have since slowly made their way to the U.S. To open the finger lime, I scored the rind around the middle and broke it open. Rolling the end of one half between my finger tips, the little pearls tumble out of their tight-packed quarters. It’s incredible, really. Each little pearl bursts with the tart juice of a lime when bitten. I figured these would be great with hamachi crudo because I wanted the acidity of the lime without the raw fish cooking on contact as it would with lime juice. Obviously, finger limes aren’t everywhere available (yet), so if you don’t have any, then just use a regular squeeze of lime juice just before serving.

score the rind around the middle and break the finger lime open

roll one end between your fingertips and watch the caviar fall out

completely empty!

pink pearls (sometimes they are other colors like green or yellow)

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Recipe: veg head sandwich

We waited out the Cold Springs Fire in Crested Butte as federal, state, and local wildland fire response teams accomplished the superhuman feat of keeping the fire in check during terrible conditions – high and erratic winds, dry air, hot temperatures – and put everything they had into it. After the worst of the weather had passed, these amazing crews were able to get the fire contained and put out within a week of it starting. That right there is beyond impressive considering how bad past wildfires have gotten.

Jeremy and I were glued to Twitter and other information sources for a day, but had to pull ourselves away as we realized how exhausting and futile that activity was. Our neighborhood remained out of harm’s way, but was still disturbingly close to it. We kept tabs on developments, but for the most part we resumed our work schedules and managed to get some fresh air. It comes up time and again, but you learn an awful lot about a person in times of crisis. Some people are helpful, others are useless, still others are worse than useless – they are drama queens (or kings). Thankfully the majority of our neighbors are great, keeping level heads and having plans of action. Those are the folks you want on your team during the zombie apocalypse. That one neighbor who is always drunk, stoned, or both? He’s a red shirt.

neva enjoys a nice cool stream crossing

hiking above copper lake (on the return, neva swam her brains out in the lake)

wildflowers showing off their stuff in the high country

jeremy and neva at east maroon pass with aspen in the background

cutthroat trout coming to check me out

jeremy paddles at lake irwin

rafting together to enjoy a cool breeze and a lovely view

Crested Butte’s wildflower season gets going in late June and runs through August and even into September if the rains deliver on their promise to the land. I know when the wildflowers are going strong without having to look because my allergies kick into overdrive. My nose starts running as soon as I start running. My eyes itch the minute I set foot on the trail. But it’s worth it. I just wish it would rain, because the animals need their berries, the mushrooms have yet to really flush, and wildfire season is just getting started.

We came home to Nederland a few days ago. Everything seems to be that crunchy kind of dry underfoot right now, but there is rain in the forecast that would be most welcome here. Oh, angelitacarmelita asked for a picture of the oyster mushrooms we found in Crested Butte a couple of weeks ago. These aren’t the best oysters I’ve found, but the ones we ate were certainly delicious. These aspen oyster mushrooms grow on – you guessed it – aspens (and sometimes other trees)! We found both sets at the base of dead aspens.

a single (with a really tiny mini version growing behind it which i left in place)

the older ones were more tan and dried out and ruffled (and wormed out)

Porcini (king bolete) or Kings are supposed to be making an appearance any day now. Actually, some already have, but they are being extra shy without the rain to coax them up. It’s easy to become obsessed with mushrooms, until you realize that they can dominate your entire summer. I like finding mushrooms and I have a pretty good eye for them, but for Jeremy’s and my own sanity, I try not to let mushrooms derail plans for long hikes, trail runs, or backpacks. In any case, when they do flush, I will have to revisit this sandwich which was so wonderfully packed with vegetables. I call it the veg head and you can make it with any kind of favorite mushroom.

arugula, mozzarella, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, pepper, eggplant, zucchini, salt, maple syrup, butter, dijon mustard, ciabatta roll, and porcini

slice the vegetables

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We’ve been part-timers in Crested Butte for three years now, and still we marvel at what the town has to offer in the way of great places to eat. As with any mountain town, we’ve seen some of the good ones sadly close down, which is why we feel strongly about supporting great restaurants when we find them. We didn’t hear about Soupçon until we began chatting with neighbors who were effusive about the food and wine and service.

Although the address is listed on Elk Avenue, the entrance to Soupçon is tucked away on a tiny unassuming alley removed from the bustle of Crested Butte’s main street. The building is a quaint miner’s cabin converted to a restaurant with a capacity of about 35. Soupçon offers two seatings a night at 6:00 pm and 8:30 pm. It is one of those restaurants that most people reserve for a special occasion, but it also has its fair share of regulars. Because of Soupçon’s limited space and popularity, you would do well to make a reservation in advance.

the charming exterior

Soupçon translates into “a little bit”, but what you get is a good bit of fine French cuisine from this self-described French American bistro. The small wait staff is as professional as you can get in a small ski town – certainly the most formal of any places we’ve dined at in Crested Butte and on par with some of the finer establishments of Boulder and Denver. Chef Jason works with his team in the back of the house (a tiny kitchen space), masterfully creating and presenting what is sure to be one memorable meal after another. The menu changes frequently according to the quality and availability of the best and freshest ingredients. Soupçon can also accommodate those with gluten-free or vegetarian requirements.

inviting and cozy inside

the menu

The beverage selection at Soupçon includes their signature cocktails (innovative interpretations of traditional cocktails), spirits, beers, and an extensive and impressive wine list (by the glass, half bottle, or bottle). After you sit down and order drinks, Chef Jason begins your culinary journey with an amuse bouche – simple and luxurious enough to inform patrons of the evening’s delights to come.

amuse bouche: center cut filet mignon tartare

st. germain french 75

some bread to get you started

You would do well not to pass over the appetizers, as they can be every bit as delectable as the entrées. Starters range from simple fare like soup or salad to indulgent foie gras, pork belly, or escargot. But you don’t simply get escargot, for example. The tender escargot are served in a white wine pan reduction with garlic, shallots, and chives in a puff pastry vol au vent. Our crab and avocado tower came adorned with caviar, edible flowers, grapefruit gastrique, and a spiced carrot coulis. Every extra touch serves to elevate the flavor, texture, and visual appeal of each plate.

escargot in puff pastry vol au vent

chilled crab and avocado tower

pan-seared scallops

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