Time in Taos, Day 2

Catch up here! Time in Taos, Day 1

When ES and I awoke the next morning, we wandered down to the sunny, open patio room of our B&B for breakfast and were greeted with glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice, hot coffee, and a plate of assorted mini muffins and scones.

Jars of wildflower honey, collected from beehives on the premises, graced each table.

While on the side there were cold cereals and milk for the taking, the main attraction of breakfast was this entree of huevos rancheros with bacon. As you can see, pieces of fruit were beautifully arranged all around the edges of the plate, creating a cheerful presentation that set the tone for the rest of the day.

And what a day it was! We went to the Rio Grande Gorge, a breathtaking sight behind the rails of the bridge we stood on. Vendors in the parking lot just before the bridge sold handmade goods as well as local honeys and jams, and I ended up getting some beads and a necklace with a teeny, stone pendant on copper chain (you all know I love jewelry).

We also went to check out Earthship headquarters. "Earthship" refers to a completely sustainable, self-contained home built entirely from recycled and re-purposed materials—for instance, glass bottles embedded into walls provide both light and structural support; electricity and water come solely from sun, rain, snow, and wind; food comes from vegetables and fruit grown on the premises. I'll admit it's a bit kooky, and the buildings do look like a somewhat odder version of something Gaudi might have built, but I admired the devotion to sustainability that Earthship homes demonstrate.


Later, in the tiny little town of Arroyo Seco, we shared a cup of ice cream at the ice cream shop Taos Cow. Ours was half blueberry flavor and half Cherry Ristra: dried cherries, piñon nuts, and chocolate chunks in a rich vanilla base.

The word ristra came up again when we visited Taos Pueblo, a living Native American reservation. Turns out ristra refers to the huge bundles of red chili peppers hanging from the awnings and doorways of the homes we saw all over New Mexico, placed there for both functional and decorative purposes. At the reservation we didn't eat anything with chilis, but we did share a freshly made frybread drizzled with honey, as well as a piece of prune pie.

With all that snacking, it took ES and I a while before we felt hungry, but after going back to our B&B, lying around in the two-person hammock, raking the giant zen garden, and strolling the on-premises labyrinth, it was dinner time. We headed over to La Cueva Cafe, a small, relatively new Mexican restaurant that used to be called Rellenos Cafe. We started off with an order of the Ceviche Mexicano, consisting of lime-marinated fish chunks mixed with pico de gallo, topped with avocado, and paired with chipotle mayonnaise. I'm more familiar with the Peruvian style of ceviche, but I was delighted with the flavor and extra creaminess that the avocado and dipping sauce added to the dish. 'Twas a large bowl of deliciousness, and cheap, too!

Our entrees were less notable, though not bad. I went with the Plato Combinado, consisting of one chile relleno, one enchilada, and one taco all smothered in green chili, while ES went with a two-taco plate.

Once our meal was done, we wandered over to the Adobe Bar at Doc Martin's Restaurant. A live band was playing in the main area, and we managed to snag a small table by the window, close enough to hear the music but far enough so that we could still chat. With eminently sippable margaritas in front of us—classic for ES, pomegranate for me—hanging out in the bar was the perfect wrap-up to a long and busy day in Taos.

"Ras-Ka brings zest to Ethiopian cuisine"

Click here to read my review of Fort Collins Ethiopian restaurant, Ras-Ka!

Stand, for burgers a step above

I never thought it could happen, but I actually OD'd on Asian food by my third week away from Colorado. Between the Burmese, Shanghainese, and multiple Vietnamese meals I'd had in San Francisco; the Chinese, Thai, and Vietnamese meals I'd had in Philadelphia; and the Korean, Vietnamese, Chinese, Malaysian, and Japanese meals I'd had in NYC, I'd completely satisfied any cravings I had for noodles and rice and was totally ready for some good ol' American food.

So TL and I met up with my brother and SS for dinner at Stand, which I had been wanting to check out for a while. What's more American than a burger? The restaurant is conveniently located just off of Union Square, and so dinner marked yet another occasion of me trying to scout out a place to grub in the area.

After our server misheard our order of fried bread and butter pickles as one for an order of their "pot of pickles," we found ourselves with not one but two briny appetizers. I was pretty happy the latter arrived by mistake, because I really liked the pickled carrots and string beans. The fried pickles were great too: the sweetness and acidity of the pickle slices stood right up to the hot, crunchy batter, and they barely needed their dipping sauce of honey mustard. Despite the menu's claims, tempura-battered they were not, but I wasn't bothered.

Both SS and I went for the "Kid's Pack," which includes a mini burger, small fries, and a drink for eight bucks, and we both got pretty excited when we realized our drink options extended to a kid-sized portion of any one of their milkshakes. Above is my honey-lavender milkshake next to TL's full-sized maple-almond one; the minis are probably about half the size of the regular.

The milkshakes weren't as thick as I prefer and their flavors were a little muted, but I still liked them. I especially dug the crunchy bits of almond in TL's, and I kept stealing sips of his between mine. He didn't mind…I think.

Our burgers came out shortly after. TL went with the classic (left), which came topped with red onion, lettuce, tomato, sliced pickles, ketchup, and dijon mustard, while my brother went with the hamburger (right), which came with onion marmalade, lettuce, and a side of green peppercorn sauce. Both burgers came with a few fried pickle slices, too.

Above is the Kid's Pack in its entirety. The Mini Burger consists of a small beef patty on brioche, topped with pickles and ketchup (I added Swiss cheese for an extra dollar). I think the Mini Burgers actually suffered for their size—both SS's and mine were cooked too long (more medium than medium rare), and both were extremely salty. TL and my brother didn't have any complaints about their burgers, but SS left half of hers uneaten.

Innards shot. Not sure if you can tell, but the meat was far from juicy. I'll stick with a regular-sized burger next time.

Not only did we have the piles of fries from our Kids Packs, but we also had two other side dishes, which came out a little after our burgers. The onion rings weren't anything special, but the sweet potato fries were quite good—nice and crispy instead of soggy like so many other versions. The odd thing was that they didn't have much sweet potato flavor; had you mixed them in with the regular fries, I don't think I would have noticed too much of a difference.

I could have had a better burger, but Stand is still a decent, inexpensively priced option for the area. Otherwise, if you haven't overdone it with Asian food like I did, Num Pang is right across the street.

Bicycles, milkshakes, bull testicles, and beer: Vern's Place and Odell Brewery

It was one of those perfect Colorado days. The air was clear; sun flooded the open sky; a sweet breeze tempered its clean heat. It was May, and the end of the spring semester was in sight. Eight months earlier I had quit my job, left my friends and family, and moved across the country; now I was nearly done with my first year in graduate school.

I was feeling good, and it was a fine day to go for a bike ride.


I met up with WP, KS, and RM and we headed for the bike trail winding along the Poudre River. There was just enough wind to keep us cool as we pedaled, and the four of us followed the river's lazy path until it deposited us in Laporte about thirty miles away, whereupon we decided it was time for lunch at Vern's Place.

Vern's is an oddity, on one side a large diner adorned with the stuffed heads of bears, deer, antelope, and assorted fowl, and on the other side a shop selling candy, souvenirs, sporting goods, and fishing and hunting licenses. If you aren't in the area on two wheels as we were, you can fill up your car's gas tank at the attached station, and it's also next door to Vern's Liquor, if you feel like filling up your own tank as well.

We settled into a table in the middle of the bustling dining room, and there, on the menu, were Rocky Mountain Oysters. Also known as Cowboy Caviar, also known as Swinging Beef: bull's testicles, served breaded and fried. Ever since I'd come out to Colorado, jokes and speculation over this dish had abounded on both sides of the country. My friends looked alternately skeptical and horrified as I placed my order, but I knew I had to give them a try.

First, though, there were milkshakes: strawberry for me, chocolate for everyone else. Each came in a tall glass crowned with a swirl of whipped cream, and was accompanied by a large metal cup filled with even more milkshake. While in mine the fresh strawberry flavor wasn't assertive, the shake was thick and sweet and creamy, and I relished each cold spoonful.

And then, out came the testicles. Pretty innocuous, don't you think? Sliced thin and enrobed in fine, crunchy breading, they were unrecognizable as bull genitalia. I wondered if their taste would reveal their true nature, but that was pretty innocuous as well—aside from a faint gaminess, like liver, and a firm, dense texture like that of tongue, the Rocky Mountain Oysters were no different from any other fried tidbit you might find on a bar menu.

I denuded one, just for you guys. That white stuff is just some interior breading that I didn't scrape off.

I should say something about the fries, too—they were great, filled with a deep potato flavor that I've never experienced anyplace else. It seems a number of places boast about hand-cut and never frozen and even the pedigree of their spuds, but none of the fries at those places had ever tasted much different to me. At Vern's, the fries were pale and could have been crisper, but their rich, hearty potato flavor was undeniable.

After lunch, RM took us to one of his secret spots by the river, and we dawdled there for a long time, immersing our feet and hands into the cold, clear water.

I don't think any of us wanted the day to end. As we rode back along the trail into civilization, we decided to make one more stop, at Odell Brewery for a beer before the sun started setting. RM opted for a pint but KS and I both got the sampler tray, with small portions of six of their most popular beers. The three of us toasted and then drank. All year, in the rush of classes and schoolwork and teaching, I had failed to set aside time for a day like this, allowing myself long, sweet hours of leisure outdoors and in the sun and with friends. Later that night there would be a concert, and then some more beers in a bar, but the best parts of the day had already happened, were happening right then in that moment.

Noodle necessities at Bann Thai

Until Bann Thai (warning: music plays on website), I hadn't had very good luck with the Thai restuarants in Fort Collins. First, there was the non-pad thai at Lulu's Asian Bistro, followed by laughably bad pad see-ew and pad thai at Toy's Thai. The pad-see ew at Thai Pepper was even worse, though the pad thai was decent. And things were a little better at Sri Thai, but not by much.

It wasn't until I ate at Ti Bar that things started really looking up. And now that I've gone to Bann Thai a few times, I can rest easy knowing that I have not one, but two places to get a good plate of Thai-style noodles.

On a rainy evening after catching a late-afternoon screening of Sunshine Cleaning (great movie by the way), four of us ducked into cozy little Bann Thai, all of us there for the first time. We each ordered green tea, which came bagged, and in individual, Western-style teapots. While I liked the fact that I could refresh my cup at will, the tea was noticeably lacking in flavor and body. If it hadn't been chilly outside, I would have definitely opted for a Thai iced coffee or tea instead.

To start, we got an order of the cream cheese wontons, which were as good as you might expect when you're deep-frying cream cheese. The wrapper was greaseless, the sweet chili dipping sauce appropriate, and it was altogether a pleasant little appetizer.

The menu said that guay teaw kua was "wide rice noodles stir-fried with egg, pickled radish, green onion flavored with soy sauce, topped with crispy egg noodles, served with lettuce." I wasn't sure what to expect from that description; it was the "topped with crispy egg noodles" part that got me—I assumed they would only be a garnish. So when my dish arrived, I was surprised by the heaping amount on top; clearly the noodles were meant to be a main ingredient.

And as an ingredient, they worked quite well, though I felt like a bit of a blob afterward for eating such an oil-saturated dish: the crisp strands lent the soft, elastic rice noodles a nice textural contrast. Plus, I'm not sure how they seasoned it, but the flavor of the dish overall (I asked for mine to be made with pork) was pretty addictive.

Several weeks later I was back again, this time with MC and a friend of hers. I'd already nabbed bites of the very serviceable pad thai last time, and I wanted to try out the pad see-ew. It was pretty good, though like the guay teaw kua it wasn't made with the very broad rice noodles I love the most (haven't seen that yet in Fort Collins at all, actually).

In short: for pad see-ew, Bann Thai. For pad thai, Thai Pepper/Ti Bar (they share a kitchen) or Bann Thai. Whew—I don't have to go without my two beloved noodle dishes after all!

A lemony treat at the Bean Cycle and Matter Bookstore

The Bean Cycle and Matter Bookstore isn't my usual spot (the usual spot being Wild Boar, of course) but I have fond memories of walking into the place upon my first visit to Fort Collins nearly a year earlier and thinking to myself, Hmm, okay, I can do this, I can live in this town. There was just something about it: the bikes hanging on the wall, the bookstore in the back, the friendly staffers, the community vibe. I envisioned myself sitting at one of the tables, laptop or book or freelance project in hand, and found myself pleased with the picture. Yes ma'am, I was sold.

As it turns out, the place is a bit out of my way, so I only end up going to the Bean Cycle for events: they host poets and authors on a regular basis. I found myself there one evening, waiting to hear Temple Grandin speak, a CSU professor and animal-lover with autism about whom I had just read a lengthy article in one of my classes. Since I was there several hours before she was to show up, I settled in to finish up a proofreading project, armed with a slice of lemon tart and a mug (beer stein, really) of black coffee. Maybe the two weren't meant to go together—coffee and lemon never seemed like a perfect combination in my book—but the mellow bitterness of that coffee rounded out the tangy, bright sweetness of the tart, making even sip and mouthful that much more satisfying. A happier proofreader in the joint probably couldn't be found.

Way to brew: Blomus Teastick

When I'm at home there is nearly always a cup of tea at my elbow, whether I'm at my desk in front of the computer, at the dining table with a proofreading project, or on the couch in front of the television. Most of the time, it's loose leaf green tea that I'm sipping; there's just nothing like a fragrant hot cup of the stuff to get me through my day.

A few months ago TL sent me a surprise in the mail: the Floz Design 'Utilo' Teastick for Blomus, a sleek and attractive little gadget. Press down on the top to reveal a little pocket for loose tea, fill it up, and pop the slim metal stick into a cup of hot water. Swirl it around to let water pass through the perforations and voila, your tea is ready.

While the tea takes a little longer to steep and there is some limitation to how much the leaves can freely expand, I do like the neatness of the teastick. It keeps floating leaves from sticking to my lips and makes for easy cleanup, too. Thanks TL!