If we want to localize it, my favorite food in Colorado isn’t an omelet or green chili or elk back straps. In mountain towns, there’s a 75% chance that the best food at the best price is going to be some kind of Mexican. When I visit the Front Range, my first stop is for a bahn mi, and then after that, it’s more Asian food.
I’m also a white dude from Nebraska who probably would still be eating meat and potatoes if it wasn’t for a family member getting into the culinary industry. So, yes, my experience is different, but that shouldn’t matter, because the best part about living in the U.S. is getting to choose your path.
When I first came to the Centennial State, I was drawn back and again by the transient nature of the community until I eventually moved and permanently became one. Whether it was people from New York, New Jersey, Argentina, Wisconsin, Michigan, Maine, Oklahoma, etc., there was a shared sense of love for this beautiful state.
And I’ve found that if people love their home, they’re going to do their best to preserve it but also make it their home. That’s why you have not just immigrant communities but also people from Philadelphia slanging cheese steaks, or Mainers doing their best to find a lobster roll, and if not find one, cook one.
One of the questions I wanted to explore for this food section was: What is Colorado food? The more I thought about it, the more it was becoming a pretentious think piece. No one wants to be admonished for a cheeseburger or an egg roll.
In general, no one wants to be chastised for the food they eat. There’s only one demographic who’s allowed to call other people’s food “disgusting” to their faces, and they’re literal children. If you want to harrumph and make snarky comments about pungent spices or turn up your nose at sushi, that’s fine; just expect people who share your opinion to be only ones to follow suit or find it funny.
And don’t plan on a Colorado culinary renaissance any time soon. There’s too many chefs from too many different backgrounds pushing too many boundaries of cuisine to reinvent green chili or an omelet.
They might marry regional flavors with their own. However, putting “Colorado” toppings on a burger isn’t a creative revelation; it’s pandering to people who will only try something new if it’s on a medium that’s tired, overcooked and probably under seasoned.
Now, if we’re talking about a classic American cheeseburger, sign me up. Or macerated cow offal in tube form, aka a hot dog, yes sir. This state is 100 years old, the U.S. is 250, and if they’re going to continue to evolve, its people should have the same curious and inclusive mindset that provided space for the incredible food scenes cultivated in, and omnipresent across, Colorado and America.
So, yes, take pride in your country and your state this year, because your experience is the American experience – regardless of the food on your plate.
Sean Beckwith is the food editor at the Durango Herald. Reach him at [email protected].