Hung, Casey, Malarkey and Dale had a month off before packing their knives up into scenic Pitkin County, Colorado, where, at the foot of Independence Pass, along the Roaring Fork River, there is a tiny little mountain hamlet called Aspen:
The city has its roots in the winter of 1879, when a group of miners ignored pleas by Frederick Pitkin, governor of Colorado, to return across the Continental Divide due to an uprising of the Ute Indians.Aspen endured many ups and downs over the years (but only one subsequent major Ute uprising, in 1887) before the Top Chef III finalists arrived this past summer, and emerged in the second half of the Twentieth Century as a celebrated alpine recreation hub and jet set destination. Some locals -- as well as dilettante sympathizers from the flatlands who, let's face it, probably don't know what they're talking about -- have since been heard to complain that the valley has degenerated into a playground for the wealthy, an extended collage of exclusive destinations and extremely private enclaves, surrounded by bedroom communities for the folks that service them. You know, like Vail, but for people with real money. Still, every once in awhile, something fairly amazing still happens up there.
Among the annual goings on is the Aspen Food and Wine Classic, which provided the background for the contestants' final battles on Top Chef III. (Later in the summer, other fun things that I like to plug to anyone who'll listen happened down valley.) To prepare, Malarkey "won awards and did research"; Dale "found his chef"; Hung worked to further advance his already more-advanced-than-you skills and techniques and (if the deadening drumbeat of up-by-the-bootstraps invocations is a reliable indication) practiced his immigrant song, and Casey got some really extreme highlights. Time well spent, on all counts, I'm sure.
The guest judge for Part One of the finale was the renowned Eric Ripert, responsible for -- among other things -- Manhattan's Le Bernardin. For some reason, he now appears to comb white stuff into his hair. Because he was up near 8000ft, his Quickfire Challenge(tm) was to prepare a tasty trout entrée in twenty minutes or less. A couple of notes: (1) Those were some big trout. Your average Rocky Mountain Brook Trout would not eat like that. (Record catch, 7lbs 8oz, 1947.) (2) If you catch a trout, and can't for the life of you remember what the Top Chefs did with theirs, the Colorado Division of Wildlife has a helpful recipe page. (3) If you're out of wireless internet range, just gut it, rub the inside with oil and butter and whatever good stuff is in your kit (sage and cumin, salt and pepper), and pan fry it on top of a strip of bacon. Two days in, that beats freeze dried chicken ala king every time. (4) Chef Ripert complained to Dale about the cayenne pepper he employed "kicking" and lingering "in the throat" after eating. This is what cayenne pepper is for. Have a beer with that.
Then, for the elimination, Battle Elk. All of this looked delicious to me, Casey's "black and blue" loin chops especially. Rare as hell? Crusted with mushrooms? Sign me up! I was also amazed that Dale's impulse control issues were, for once, seamlessly self-correcting. Similarly impressive was Brian's calculation that yes, though you might doubt him, he could braise that much shank in three short hours. Finally, Hung's growing enthusiasm for elk, culminating with a near scientific pitch in presenting his meal to the judges and Colicchio's explicit recognition at the judge's table that Hung's kung fu was indeed the best... well, that was fun to watch.
All that remains, for this post, are the compulsories. So first, here's your link to Bourdain's blog. His post on this episode is not up as of this writing, so here's some bonus Bourdain, fielding audience questions about foie gras, seal eyeballs, Peruvian hallucinogens, and his choice of last meal. And last, here's my link to Denver's own Buckhorn Exchange, where you can get your trout on, and get your elk on, and also get many, many other things.
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