Monday morning greeted me with anticipation and excitement. After checking out of my hotel, I trundled off to my car (nicknamed Minnow), sea bag and backpack slung across my shoulders. Grateful for clear weather, the Minnow and I motored our way up Highway 200. First stop, Human Resources.

The vast skyline along the 200 is broken up by the rare cluster of buildings or gas stations. It’s otherwise uninterrupted vistas were covered in powdery snow and would have made a lovely postcard scene. Halfway to the ranch, the snow fell gently, then started coming down in earnest. By the time I reached my destination, the world had turned into a snow globe. Turning into the drive of Paws Up was a bit magical. The forest-lined drive opened up to an expansive field of snow and turning left onto the property took me under a wooden arch with “The Village” emblazoned across it. Just beyond the arch, the first thing that greeted me was a huge tree covered in large red ornaments. The fenced-in lane took me past a myriad of buildings until I finally arrived at HR. There, I signed my lease, met my boss, Chef Sonny Jin, was issued a brand new pair of snow cleats and got the first glimpse of my new place of employment.

With the snow still coming down, the friendly folk from HR and I then caravanned over to employee housing, which was about ten miles further up the road.

Called “Junction City” by the company and endearingly referred to by employees as “The Cow”, employee housing is an old lodge. Why “The Cow”? you might be wondering. Well, there’s a distinctive, 20 foot statue at the gas station across the parking lot.

Once arrived, I got the nickel tour, moved into the new digs and prepared for Day One of the job.

Overnight, it snowed eight inches. Welcome to Montana! I woke up to the sound of a diesel engine thrumming as the company snow plow cleared the parking lot. At noon, I headed off to work where I met the sous, Chef Brandon. I was assigned to work with Chef Ben on the dinner shift at Pomp, the ranch’s restaurant. All of the staff is super friendly and made me feel welcome from the minute I walked in the door. Pulling a chef coat off the rack, I suited up and started prep duties. Me being me, the first day was full of classic “new guy” blunders. Wouldn’t be the first day if I didn’t cut or burn myself, I suppose. The first two days I spent on Garde Manger, making soup and plating soups and salads. On the menu: celery root bisque, carrot soup and cauliflower bisque.

Day three I got to spend with Gretchen in the pastry department. I’m excited to get a chance to work with her more in the future! On the menu: yogurt panna cotta, a snow-inspired dessert (vanilla sponge, white chocolate sticks, frosted berries and raspberry coulee), jalapeño-cheddar cornbread, and blood orange, candied peel and pistachio muffins.

Leaving work in the evenings has been a special treat, as the company has strung up all the buildings and trees with lights. It’s beautiful to walk through on the way back to my car. Though on a slightly scary note, we did have a mountain lion sighting on Thursday night. I was glad Chef Brandon was headed to the employee lot at the same time I was!

Then came nearly a week off, due to the slowness of January. It’s been pretty quiet here at The Cow, as there are only two other people living here right now and I rarely see them. Coupled with the remoteness, there’s a lot of solitude to be had if you like that sort of thing. The introvert in me certainly does. Being conservative with resources until my first paycheck arrives, I spent most of my time exploring the surrounding area on foot. Playing in the snow and breathing in the clean, mountain air has done my soul a lot of good. It’s so beautiful here!

Even though it’s been fun to explore, I’m ready to get back to work! Looking forward to next week.

My last night in Portland I visited a few friends, saying a last few farewells. The car was packed and I was ready to spend some quality time with the family for Christmas. It was great to be home and my little vacation was over way too fast.

Just after 0800 on a Saturday, my life re-sorted into my small car, arranged just so to fit an extra person, I drove to pick up my road trip partner. In true Western Washington fashion, we stopped at Bigfoot Java for the largest serving of coffee you can order from a coffee stand. Then it was “Goodbye, Seattle”. Forty-eight-ounce coffees in hand and The Eagles strumming familiar chords through the speakers, my brother and I settled in for the long drive ahead. (Let me sidetrack for a second here: for those of you who haven’t met my brother, he is wonderful and I’m a lucky sister to have a brother like him. I’m grateful he was available to come with me.)

Long drives for avid readers meant that after a bit, we threw on the requisite audio book. Both of us being Sci-Fi junkies, we chose to listen to Name of the Wind, which I highly recommend. It was a fitting choice for the gorgeous scenery we were driving through. The drive from Seattle to Spokane is filled with sweeping landscapes that no mere picture could do justice to. We passed the first signs of the fact that it was January and supposedly winter when we reached Cle Elum.

As soon as we passed Spokane, I was in territory I’d never been to before. We made Coeur D’Alene, Idaho just as the sun was beginning to set.

We finally made Missoula, MT around 2030, checked into our hotel and headed out to find dinner. Turns out Missoula is a bit of a foodie town! We stopped at a taco spot for takeout and grabbed ice cream from Big Dipper, which we hadn’t known was THE place to go in town for ice cream. Happy accident. It began to snow, so we stayed in and filled our evening playing cards and listening to Name of the Wind.

The next day we ventured out and walked around town to see what could be found in Missoula. We discovered really good food and Create, an “art bar” where you can work on an art project while sipping on an adult beverage. It was pretty fun.

All too soon, it was time to drop Al off at the airport. Left to my own devices, I went to see Little Women at the cinema and prepared for my next day’s arrival at the Resort at Paws Up. I was ready for the next adventure to begin.

It’s undeniable that 21st century food trends are eschewing waste-heavy practices, from the conveniences of the 1950s to the fat-free, chemically-laden 1990s, in favor of actively trying to reverse the effects of our throw-away culture. Environment- and health-conscious consumers are pushing for better options. Biodegradable packaging, heirloom and hybrid crops, and allergen-free alternatives will make 2020 the start of a decade defined by turning zero-waste and eco-conservation ideals into reality.

In a spirit of healthier living and promoting biodiverse farming, consumers are looking for better, more diverse natural ingredients to fuel current diet trends, including paleo and keto. Grocery store shelves will have a wider variety of alternative flours. Oregon staple Bob’s Red Mill already offers a paleo baking flour made with almond, coconut, arrowroot and tapioca. Other emerging flours slated for retail distribution in 2020 are allergy-friendly alternatives like cauliflower, banana, pumpkin seeds, poppy seeds, lupin and sunchoke.

These alternative flours could be great for the allergy-afflicted and diet-focused, but also have the potential to provide a lot of health benefits to those not concerned with that as well. Seeds, starchy fruit, and vegetable flours may contain a lot of vitamins and minerals that may not be present in standard wheat flour. Cauliflower, for example, has a lot of dietary fiber and B vitamins. Perhaps cauliflower flour could be added to pancakes or muffins to give us the extra boost in B vitamins. What is left to be seen is how they will affect flavor and end product.

Will these alternative flours be able to replicate what wheat flour does? With the current range of alternative flours already on the market, the answer is clearly no, though there are many blends that come close. The perfectly fluffy cinnamon roll is still slightly out of reach without the almighty gluten strand.

Walking into Uno Mas, one might be inclined to think they’ve entered a typical sports bar. A vibrant blue warehouse space gives a bigger nod to the city’s history, its hometown sports teams and its ideals than the cuisine it serves, covered in mostly lumber-trade paraphernalia, championship banners and a gay pride flag. Two large paintings of luchadores gracing the alcove near the bathrooms and a pair of lovely, Mexican-themed art deco prints in the dining area are the only hints of the food they serve. However, the sign on the door says “taquiza” and that’s exactly what you get on the menu.

What exactly is a tequiza, dear reader? I, for one, had to look it up. Mexico-born food writer Adriana Martin says, “A taquiza is a taco party where friends gather to enjoy each other’s company over good tacos and drinks.” The food menu at Uno Mas offers very few options other than tacos, alcohol and soda, making “taquiza” an apt description. Their tacos are divided into three categories: traditional, seafood and vegetarian. The wide variety means there’s a little something for everyone, but the definition of “good tacos” might be up for debate.

As might be expected, the crowd favorites were the traditional barbacoa and carnitas. The smoky barbacoa had a spicy depth of flavor that stood up on its own without extra sauce. The carnitas epitomized the salty, tender meatiness of a favorite pulled pork sandwich. You won’t regret handing over your $3.75 for these.  For the adventurous taco lover (or the nostalgic one), there are several traditional ingredients including tripe, blood sausage, lengua, chicharron, and chorizo. Biting into the crispy chicharron was delightfully crunchy, though it didn’t deliver in flavor and ultimately let the palate down. 

By far the most interesting taco on the menu was the Endiablado made with prawns, garlic, oregano and chiles. The flavor explosion is utterly unexpected, having the fermented-cabbage-and-chile, umami profile of kimchi. I loved it, but it may not be for everyone. Also on the seafood menu is rock fish and octopus. I wanted to love these ones, too. They were cooked perfectly, which is an incredible skill, especially with octopus, but both were lackluster, flavorless filler. Avoid these tacos and you’ll avoid disappointment. It’s $4.25 price tag is not worth it. 

For the vegetarians out there, there aren’t a lot of options: fried cheese and beans, mushrooms or nopal. If you haven’t had cactus before, nopal is similar in texture to roasted bell peppers and also has a similar vegetal flavor. That’s about as interesting as it gets, as the vegetarian tacos weren’t very memorable. 

The condiment station might be Uno Mas’ saving grace. Here, they have a wide selection of sauces of varying heat levels. From mild salsa verde to a tongue scorching, creamy habanero, their bland tacos might be saved from forgettable obscurity by smothering it in sauce.

Ultimately, the Uno Mas taco party was about as exciting as a piñata left outside in the rain. The glory of the taco is in its ability to be a flavor powerhouse in a small, corn-wrapped package, which is entirely missing here. The only redeeming features of Uno Mas are the beer selection and good service, again, making it a decent sports bar but not a taco bar. Gracias, no mas.

The predawn darkness surrounded our early-morning departure. It was the last day of a lovely weekend spent celebrating my brother’s birthday. Driving down the main drag of a sleepy, historic town on the banks of the Yakima River, we could already see the crowds starting to gather. My brother and I pulled into a warehouse parking lot about a half mile away from the launch zone; the already gathered throng having taken all the nearby parking long before we arrived. As we walked toward the airfield, we spotted a strip mall diner: open early, just for today. With its modern-shabby-western feel, the diner epitomized this small town, surrounded by farmland and vineyards. We ordered waffles and coffee to go, then headed back out to the road. In convivial comfort, we ambled with an unhurried pace to a spot on the highway’s gravel shoulder along the fence and sat down to eat our breakfast, to-go boxes perched on our knees. 

The sky was beginning to lighten. Steam from our coffee cups wafted into the early-fall chill as we waited, watching as technicians and pilots scurried to be ready for launching. Brightly-colored nylon balloons were laid out on the grass like party dresses waiting for the ball. The excited babble of children nearby, another brother and sister, caught my attention. They pointed excitedly at the launching zone. The woosh of propane starters accompanied bright flashes of flame. The balloons were starting to come to life, 3-D shapes emerging from a 2D ground like Faberge eggs. When the hot air inside reached critical mass, the balloons popped up with a snap of fabric and the bounce of a prize fighter. 

First one then several balloons floated above their baskets, primed for liftoff. Each had their own distinct colors and patterns: grapes and leaves, stripes, squares, art deco, an American Flag. One at a time, the balloons emerged from the shadow of the airfield into rays of golden sunrise. The dusty-blue sky was streaked with flaming pinks and the edge of a bright sun rose with the balloons as they floated away, marking the passing of another decade. My brother draped his arm across my shoulders, the way I used to do when I was still bigger than him. He was 30 now, taller, towering a full head over me. It was strange how moments like these made time drift seamlessly between childhood and adulthood.