Chilhowie, Virginia: farmhouses and…fine dining?

by Laurel Miller on

Although I write about food for a living, it takes a lot to get me to make a pilgramage to a restaurant. For me to fly from Seattle to the East Coast, and then drive across a state (staying at a campground down the road from a correctional facility, en route), I need more than just the promise of a great meal.

Town House, in the far corner of southwestern Virginia, is that sort of place. Six hours drive from Washington DC, the acclaimed restaurant is located on quiet Main Street in rural Chilhowie (pop. 1,827). Twenty miles from both the Tennessee and North Carolina borders, Chilhowie is pure Americana. Pastoral imagery abounds: dairy cows grazing in rolling pasture, dilapidated barns and silos, weathered buildings shedding peeling paint. There are shady groves, creeks, wineries, mountain biking and hiking trails (this is Appalachian Trail country) and sleepy little villages. It’s like an episode of “The Twilight Zone;” where you’re driving along, and bam! It’s 1930. I’m originally from the strip-malled badlands of Southern California, so it’s easy to see why this region appealed to me.

In addition to the Appalachian Trail, there’s the Virginia Creeper Trail, Hungry Mother State Park (do names get better than that?), great fly fishing, a flock of community theaters, galleries, and museums in nearby Marion, Abingdon, and Bristol. It’s an absolutely beautiful, little-known part of the U.S.. But certainly, Town House isn’t the only rural destination restaurant (Virginia also has The Inn at Little Washington, and The Barn at Blackberry Farm is just outside of Knoxville, two hours from Chilhowie). It is, however, a lot more rural than most non-urban, fine dining destination restaurants.

I don’t give a hang about eating at a place based on its hipster credentials, or because it’s on the checklist of self-proclaimed “foodies (a term that needs to be banished from existence, in my opinion).” A dinner at Town House gave me an opportunity to explore the Virginia countryside, but I was also curious to see how chef John Shields was pulling off a somewhat eccentric menu in such a remote location. I also loved that he and his wife/Town House pastry chef Karen Urie Shields–who aptly describes her desserts as “whimsical”–develop their ever-changing menu around seasonal ingredients that are foraged, or sourced from local family farms and food artisans.

Destination restaurants have always intrigued me. It’s hard for a meal to live up to the hype, but sometimes, it’s about the experience as a whole. An absence of atmosphere and sense of place can kill a meal, even if the food is divine. I’ve also had bad food transformed by the right dining companions (I’m recalling a remote Tuscan osteria I ended up having to hitchhike to. The food was godawful, but what would have otherwise been an abysmal, depressing experience was turned into a wonderful night by the arrival of ten boisterous Icelanders who invited me to join them). Still, given the time, expense, and effort required to dine at a destination restaurant, there’s a lot of pressure on the chef and staff to execute nothing less than a stellar performance.

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The majority of Town House diners come from Roanoke or Knoxville (Roanoke is also two hours away, and has a small airport), or DC. Others, like my boyfriend and I, make a road trip of it. We drove down from northern Virginia, turning the six-hour drive into a three-day camping trip, broken up by an overnight at Town House’s sister property, Riverstead (276-646-8787). The two-bedroom guesthouse (there is no staff on-site, if these things matter to you) is located on a 30-acre hay farm, four-and-a-half miles from the restaurant. The painstakingly restored, 1903 farmhouse is a draw itself, and blissfully free of gag-inducing accoutrements like dolls, frilly, Victorian-era decor, and cutesy signage.

Earlier this year, thirty-three-year-old John was named one of Food & Wine magazine’s “Best New Chefs,” and he participated in June’s Food & Wine Classic in Aspen (a three-day bacchanal of seminars, tastings, demos, and more tastings). Yet he’s been drawing crowds with his “inspired cuisine” since he filled the chef position at Town House in 2008. Prior to that, the restaurant had a humdrum menu that John has described as “from another era.” He and Karen, 32, credit farmers and producers on the menu, which, ironically, is a rarity in rural areas. As John, an intense young man (the skater shoes and slightly baggy jeans he wears with his chef’s jacket are nothing less than endearing), explained to me, “People often comment on how it must be hard to get good products, living out here. We respond by saying, ‘Where do you think big cities get their food from?'”

As for why they left the big city to try experimental cuisine in rural Virginia, John says, “We knew it would be a challenge, but we never wavered with the menu once we moved forward. We stuck to our guns, because we believed a true identity was what would make this restaurant stand out. Our staff and employers are passionate, as well, so the biggest challenge has been the lack of dining options for us on our nights off! We’ve been most surprised by the amazing reaction people have had to what we’re doing.”

The couple met in the kitchen at Charlie Trotter’s in Chicago, where John was sous chef, and Karen was pastry chef. In 2005, John became sous chef at Alinea (he credits chef/owner Grant Achatz as his mentor). In ’08, Trotter hired John to run his (since closed) Las Vegas restaurant. It was while waiting for that restaurant to open that the Shields’ decided they were ready for something more low key. A “chef wanted” ad at Town House kept popping up on Craigslist, so they went to Chilhowie (they were initially unable to locate it on a map) to meet with owners Tom and Kyra Bishop. The rest, as they say, is history.

My boyfriend and I arrived at Riverstead just as a thunderstorm hit, which was great, because the two-story farmhouse is my idea of a slice of heaven. The expansive front porch affords a view of pasture and the neighboring farm, and a short path leads down to the South Fork Holston River. Waiting for us inside were Karen’s chocolate chip cookies, a full kitchen stocked with coffee and tea, and a note directing us to the refrigerator. There, we found part of our pre-checkout breakfast: Mason jars of freshly-squeezed orange juice, Karen’s farro (emmer wheat) cereal with dried cherries, and two soft-boiled eggs. The kitchen itself is a dream: robin’s egg-blue walls, commercial-grade stainless appliances, weathered oak butcher block, and vintage cookware displayed on the matching shelves. The living room is a bit more genteel, with antique rugs and original oak floors, and a sofa by the fireplace.

Our sunny room took up half of the second story. Like the rest of the house, it’s a charming mix of old and new: gleaming white bathroom with stainless fixtures, wood paneling, retro-black-and-white tiled floor, clawfoot tub, glass-encased shower, and two vintage-style sinks. A nightstand beside the plush, king-sized bed held a bottle of wine, and a glass dome-covered cheese plate. I work in a cheese shop, so I was thrilled to see a farmstead selection from nearby Meadow Creek Dairy. Their award-winning Grayson is a sticky, stinky, Jersey milk washed-rind with a luscious, buttery interior. It was accompanied by Karen’s panforte, a dense, chewy, sweet similar to fruitcake.

To fire up our appetites, we headed down to the river for a stroll, before consulting Riverstead’s thoughtful “local activities and attractions” sheet. We headed up to the Appalachian Trail entrance at Elk Garden for a short hike, and then drove back down through the picturesque “town” of Wilkinson’s Mill, with its wooden swinging bridge, abandoned buildings, and old timey convenience store.

At last, it was time for our dinner reservation. A major plus of staying at Riverstead is that you can have a glass of wine or five during your meal, because round-trip transportation to Town House is included. The restaurant is located in a 100-year-old brick building that once housed a dry goods store. The interior, with its dark, polished wood floors, tables, and chairs, faux tin ceiling (actually cleverly-disguised sound-reducing tiles) and contemporary art fixtures blends local history with minimalist modern design. Diners can choose a one-to-three-course menu composed of a la carte items, a $58 set four-course, or the $110 ten-course tasting menu, which offers a choice of starter, main, and dessert. We decided on the four-course (a hell of a deal, I might add). Wine is separate, but you can request they be paired with your meal.

Not every dish worked for me. A “soup of cherries” with bronzed sardine, sweet and spicy ginger, tomato, and “almond bread” (more of a foam) was just too out there for my liking. On the other hand, “scrambled egg mousse ” with smoked steelhead roe, birch syrup, sweet spices, and preserved ramp was delicate, decadent, and beautifully executed- an orgy of flavors and textures. Peekytoe crab roasted in brown butter with lime, salt cod, vanilla, and sea grapes came with ethereal puffs of caramelized onion, and lamb shank cooked in ash, with black garlic marmalade, salsify, and burnt onion was deep, complex, and soulful. It was while savoring that dish that it clicked for me; how John’s food fit into the context of this tiny corner of Appalachia. Not all of the ingredients are local, or even domestic, but even when he’s using something high-end, like foie gras, there’s an earthy sensibility to his food that somehow makes sense in Chilhowie.

We ordered both of Karen’s desserts, because they sounded so poetically strange: Powdered chocolates with steamed yuzu sponge, bergamot, and an “aromatic” salad of herbs, and the unexpectedly lovely combination of strawberry ice cream with braised artichoke and pink peony sorbet. Before we headed back to Riverstead, Karen stopped by our table with a still-warm galette of shallots and goat cheese (from local Ziegenwald Dairy) for our breakfast. After her desserts, a tart seemed deceptively simple, although great pastry is anything but.

That galette is one of the most outstanding things I’ve ever eaten. Buttery, caramelly, comforting. It may seem strange that a homely tart and a soft-boiled egg eaten over a sink were the highlight of my trip, but that’s the thing about destination dining. At its best, the place and the food are a reflection of one another.

Karen’s Hot Breakfast Cereal
Unbelievably easy, delicious, and nourishing, this is my favorite new breakfast for fall.

Serves 2-3

1 cup Anson Mills farro piccolo (If you can’t find at your local grocery or speciality food store, you can purchase it online from the online Town House shop or Anson Mills)
4 cup water
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 teaspoon grade B maple syrup
1/3 cup toasted sunflower seeds
1 cup of your favorite berry or other fruit, or dried fruit

Combine the farro with the water and bring to a boil. Simmer for 20-30 minutes until most of the water is evaporated. Meanwhile, toast the sunflower seeds at 350 degrees, for 10 minutes. Season farro with cinnamon, salt, maple syrup, sunflower seeds, and fruit. Enjoy warm or chilled.

My trip was sponsored by the Virginia Tourism Corporation, but the opinions expressed in this article are 100% my own.

Dunton Hot Springs: mushroom foraging and soaking in Southwestern Colorado

by Laurel Miller on

There are few things I enjoy more than scrabbling around in forest litter, searching for fungi. Cooking and eating them is just a bonus. I know I’m not alone in my geeky proclivity, given the number of mycological societies and mushroom festivals all over the country. Mid-August is peak wild mushroom season in the Colorado Rockies, which hosts two well-known mushroom extravaganzas of its own, in Telluride and Crested Butte.

My mushroom lust is what led me to Dunton Hot Springs, a restored ghost town-turned-resort in the San Juan Mountains near Telluride. Dunton’s executive chef, Dennis Morrisroe, is an accomplished forager who uses wild foods in his rustic, localized cuisine. Morrisroe particularly loves mushroom hunting, and takes interested guests on his forays into the Lizard Head Wilderness surrounding the property.

If you’re into wild mushrooms, then you know that this willingness to share is a bit unusual. Foragers guard their collection spots with Pentagon-like secrecy. In the mid-nineties, a rash of murders occurred in Oregon when foragers horned in on someone else’s territory (back in the day before foreign markets started competing, domestic professional mushroom foragers could fetch up to $400 a pound, depending upon the species). On one mushroom forage I did with some chefs on the Oregon Coast , we headed back to our cars, only to find a decomposing deer carcass laid across the trail (true story).

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Understandably, then, I geeked out when I received an invitation to go foraging with Morrisroe. On a humid August afternoon, we headed up into the forest to look for chanterelles, and the odd boletus (porcini). I should add that unless you have considerable experience, you should always go with, or have your forage inspected by, an expert before consuming. Because, you know, liver damage or death just aren’t fun.

Once we’d hiked into the woods, armed with pocket knives, Morrisroe gave me tips on what to look for. “With mushrooms, it’s just as important to find what terrain they like, as well as what conditions,” he explained. “Out here, for chanterelles, we look for no aspen trees, but a high concentration of pines, and good groundcover. If I know of a good area, I’ll try and translate the same elevation and conditions to other areas.” After several hours of tramping around, we returned to Dunton to clean our booty, which included about six pounds of chanterelles, and a couple handfuls of porcini.

Dunton Hot Springs is one of the most innovative and sublime retreats in the United States. The gold, silver, and coal mining town of Dunton, established in 1886, was abandoned in 1905. Following that, a series of owners and caretakers variously used the town as a guest ranch, and backpacker, biker, and hippie haunt. In 1995, the decrepit town was purchased by German businessman Christoph Henkel. His vision was to restore Dunton to its former glory, in the form of an intimate, rustically luxurious, Old West “resort,” as well as protect the 700-acre property from further development.

Dunton is located atop a natural hot spring that bubbles up near the West Fork of the Dolores River; Henkel’s original plan was to heat the property by tapping into the springs, but sediment clogged the pipes. While it’s not a bona fide “eco” property, Dunton strives to take ecological measures wherever it can: Drinking water is piped in from an extinct mine on the property, low energy fluorescent lighting is in place, recycling and composting are routine. Fifty percent of the buildings are original structures; the remainders are originals from the same era that have been preserved and transported to the property.

The twelve little guest cabins and common buildings have been gorgeously restored using reclaimed materials, and designed and decorated by Henkel’s’ arts dealer wife, Katrin. There’s also a well-stocked library (and by well-stocked, I mean there’s a bottle of Dickel bourbon and a grizzly bear-skin rug to keep you company as you pore through art, architecture, and historical texts), dining hall, and saloon. The saloon’s focal point is the original, 1886 bar, into which Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (allegedly) carved their names when they escaped to Dunton after robbing a bank in Telluride. Even the lush, plant-filled Bathhouse boasts graffiti from the town’s original residents upon its weathered spruce walls. The indoor and outdoor soaking pools (sublime) are fed by the hot springs.

Surrounded by 1,500 acres of National Forest and situated on the river, Dunton offers guests a range of year-round outdoor activities: horseback riding (there’s a stable on the property), world-class fly fishing, rafting, kayaking, mountain biking, nordic and heli-skiing, ice climbing, and snow shoeing. But Dunton is equally acclaimed for its dining. Despite its isolated location and Colorado’s short growing season, the property is justly famous for both the quality of the food, as well as its commitment to supporting local ranchers and family farms whenever possible.

Morrisroe, 41, came to Dunton in April, 2008; he runs the kitchen with just one employee, sous chef John McClenny. Originally from Trinidad, Colorado, he attended culinary school in San Francisco, then stayed in California to work in a series of impressive kitchens, including The French Laundry. Eventually, he returned to his home state to become sous chef at Durango’s Seasons restaurant. He first developed his sensibilities about seasonality and locality from working in California, but was further inspired by his chefs at Seasons. His love of feeding people and getting them excited about eating was ingrained at an early age. “My mother and grandmother fed me well as a kid, and taught me the fundamentals of cooking. But what I didn’t realize until I came [to Dunton] is that they also taught me how to take care of people.”

Morrisroe’s eagerness to share his mushrooming spots is, I suspect, also because he’s so inspired by the wild and cultivated ingredients growing practically out his kitchen door. He works closely with Hungry Oasis Farms in Dolores, 40 miles away, and shops at the farmers market, “to the best of my ability. We currently don’t grow anything on the property because at 8,700 feet, the growing season is just too short.” Colorado is composed of so many microclimates that farming in Dolores is a viable enterprise.

Free range, hormone- and antibiotic-free pork and grass-fed, grain-finished beef come from Dunton’s maintenance man, Keith Evans; lamb are Navajo-Churro, a heritage breed purchased from the Navajo Nation outside of nearby Cortez. Morrisroe has also developed a good relationship with his seafood vendors, and has all of his fish Fed Ex’ed or UPS-delivered (because, one would assume, when guests pay as much as they do for a stay at Dunton, they likely have some very specific menu requests). In winter, when Dunton is buried under snow, he utilizes cellared root vegetables and hard squash, and relies on produce brought in from Colorado’s “banana belt” on the Western Slope, near Grand Junction.

Morrisroe’s passion, however, is foraging. “It’s a nice, relaxing way to wander the woods and get your produce at the same time,” he explains. “It’s been a hobby of mine for about five years, after I learned about it from a baker I worked with in Durango.” In addition to mushrooms, he collects odds and ends like wild mint, and chamomile. These end up in cocktails (wild mint mojitos), and on the table, in the family-style meals he describes as “fresh, simple, regional food.”

Late in the afternoon after our forage, Morrisroe, a couple of helpers, and I cleaned our haul. “I’m kind of a greedy, selfish person,” he joked. “When I clean mushrooms, I use a soft brush or paper towel instead of water, to retain all of the flavor.” I have to agree; when you’re dealing with the first wild mushrooms of the season- especially after you’ve collected them yourself- you want to savor every last, earthy, molecule.

At dinner that night, Morrisroe let our forage take starring role, with a simple salad of roasted porcini with arugula, Parmigiano Reggiano, and white truffle oil, and sea bass with a ragout of local corn and chanterelles, alongside Hungry Oasis Farms green beans and fingerling potatoes. Paired with marvelous selections from Cortez’s Sutcliffe Wines (believe it or not, there are a handful of great winemakers in Colorado) the meal was a celebration of seasonal ingredients, and the wild beauty of Dunton.

Dunton Hot Springs offers cooking classes, as wells chef-led mushroom forages (late July through August), and assist with food preparation and cooking, by request.

Chanterelle & Gruyère Fritatta

The key to sautéing mushrooms, says Morrisroe, is to have adequate heat, and not crowd them in the pan. This allows them to caramelize, which concentrates their flavor.

Recipe by chef Dennis Morrisroe

Serves 8-10

1 large russet potato
1 lb. fresh chanterelle mushrooms, cleaned
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 T. fresh thyme, chopped
10 large eggs
¼ c. heavy cream
2 t. white truffle oil
½ c. grated Gruyère
Unsalted butter, as needed
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, as needed

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Peel the potato and slice to ¼-inch thickness. Heat a 10″ cast iron skillet over medium-high heat, and melt enough butter to coat the sliced potatoes. Add the potatoes, season with salt and pepper, and coat them with the butter. Place whole skillet in the oven, and roast potatoes until tender, about 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, sauté the chanterelles in a small amount of butter (you may also use half olive oil), in a large frying pan over high heat. Sauté until the juices are released and reduced to a thick sauce, and the chanterelles have begun to caramelize. Remove the chanterelles from the heat, and season with the chopped garlic, thyme, salt and pepper.

Whisk the eggs with cream, truffle oil, salt, and pepper. To assemble the frittata, arrange the potatoes in a tidy layer that covers the bottom of the skillet. Add the chanterelles on top of the potatoes in another tidy layer. Pour the egg mixture over the chanterelles, making sure the tops of all of the mushrooms are moistened. Sprinkle the gruyère over the top of the egg mixture. Bake the frittata until the eggs are completely set and the edges are golden, about 30 minutes. Let the frittata rest for about 5 minutes. Using a thin spatula, gently and carefully remove the frittata from the pan onto a cutting board. A long serrated knife works well for slicing the frittata; it generally 10-12 provides slices.

Souvenir tip: knowledge is the best souvenir

by Gadling Staff on

Hopefully when we visit other places, we can take a bit of the culture home with us. Knowledge is the best souvenir. So take a class with the locals. Learn:

  • To do a local dance
  • To sing a song in their language
  • To play an unusual instrument
  • To cook a special recipe

No time to take a class? If food is your favorite, buy a local cookbook or ask the chef for a recipe. Purchase a songbook or a video of local dances. You can learn it when you return home or continue practicing the lessons you did take.

How green is your hotel?

by Katie Hammel on

Not too long ago, any hotel that had one of those “please reuse your towels” signs in the bathroom was considered “green“. But with new hotels upping the ante by adding more features that reduce waste and environmental impact, it takes a lot more than that to truly be green. Here are some of the greenest hotel features to look for in an eco-friendly hotel.

Sheet and Towel Reuse Programs
Literally, this is the least a hotel can do. Asking guests to reuse towels and only changing the linens every few days or between guests no doubt saves water (and money for the hotel) but those positive contributions can easily be negated through other actions. If this all the hotel does, it might just be more frugal than green.

Bulk Toiletry Dispensers
Every time you check into a hotel, you’re provided with small bottles of face wash, body wash, lotion, shampoo and conditioner. Even if you’ve only used a minuscule drop, those bottles are tossed out and restocked at the end of your stay. This happens every day, for every room sold, at hotels all around the world. That’s a lot of tiny bottles clogging up landfills. The greener option being implemented in many hotels is to install bulk dispensers (similar to soap dispensers in public restrooms) that dole out small amounts of shampoo, soap and lotion without the extra packaging.

Local and Organic Cooking
Hotel restaurant chefs that use local, fair-trade, sustainable and organic ingredients get a gold-star for for being green. Using local products means that the food travels less to get to the consumer, which in turn means less energy is used and less emissions are added to the air from the planes, trains and trucks that transport food. Organic ingredients are created without the chemicals and pesticides that can harm the surrounding eco-systems, fair-trade products support local farmers, and sustainable foodstuffs are made in a way that doesn’t deplete the natural resources of the area. Hotels that employ these practices in their restaurants are doing something that is not only healthy for their guests, but is healthy for the community and environment as well. The hotel gets even more bonus points if some or all of the produce comes from the hotel’s own garden.

Green Lighting Practices
Replacing fluorescent light bulbs with ENERGY STAR certified compact fluorescent lights (CFLs) means that a hotel will use 75% less energy per year. While hotel guests can do their part by turning off all unnecessary lights when not in the room, some hotels, like the LEED-certified Orchard Garden Hotel in San Francisco, make this easier by requiring the lights to be activated by key card. The key card, usually attached to the hotel key, must be inserted into a slot in order to turn the lights on. Since you’ll obviously need to take the key and lighting key card with you when you leave the room, there’s no way you can leave the lights on while you’re out.

Green Building Materials
The buildings at Sadie Cove Wilderness Lodge in Alaska are constructed from scavenged driftwood, the mattresses and bedding at the Asheville Green Cottage in South Carolina are made from all organic materials, and the walls at Los Manos B&B in Colorado are built of local adobe and the ceilings are insulated with cellulose from old newspapers. All of these properties are using green building practices that help conserve precious resources. Using recycled, organic, scavenged and eco-friendly (like low-emission paints) materials in the building process makes a hotel green from the very beginning.

Reducing Water Usage
The El Monte Sagrado in Taos, New Mexico filters its wastewater into pure drinking water, but there are plenty of other ways hotels can save water that are a littler easier to do. Many green hotels install low-flow regulators in showers and toilet tanks, and some even put in automatic-timer showers that shut off after a certain number of minutes. (You can restart them with the push of a button, but the ticking clock serves as a powerful reminder to make it quick). Hotels in temperate areas have chosen to do their landscaping with tropical plants, which require less water to maintain.

Alternative Power
Many hotels are looking to alternative sources of power; the Alpine House in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, gets all of its power from wind turbines. Look for hotels that boast the use of solar and wind power for even part of their energy usage. Hotels that use shade trees and crosswinds to cool rooms, rather than air conditioning, also increase their eco-friendly factor.

Recycling Programs
All the paper used in the Hotel Triton in San Francisco, from napkins in the restaurant to stationary in the guest rooms, is made from recycled materials. Of course, after it’s used, it still gets tossed out. I’ve never seen a recycling bin in any hotel I’ve stayed in, and I highly doubt that housekeeping takes the time to separate recyclables from trash. As a result, plenty of paper, aluminum and plastic that could be recycled ends up getting tossed. Any hotel that offers recycling bins in the room is one step up on the green ladder.

Green Cleaning Products
Using non-toxic, all-natural cleaning products helps reduce the amount of dangerous chemicals that get into the water system and cause pollution. Look for hotels like Denver’s Queen Anne Bed and Breakfast which uses only baking soda to its clean tubs, sinks and toilets.

Other Green Practices
When combined with some of these larger-scale practices, the smallest acts can help make a green hotel even more eco-friendly. All Fairmont hotels offer free parking for hybrid cars, the Vancouver Hilton offers an alternative fueling station, and many hotels will provide free bikes for guests to get around on. Stocking guest rooms with glass drinking cups instead of plastic and relying on natural lighting as much as possible in public areas are two additional practices that make a big difference.

I doubt there’s any hotel that employs every single one of these practices. But it’s a safe bet to say that the more of these strategies a hotel uses, the greener it is. No hotel will have zero impact on the environment, but choosing a hotel that take does its best to use environmentally-friendly policies will help make your travels greener.