Búfalo del Parque del Resto

Búfalo del Parque del Resto

Serves 8 people

Look at the picture of this tasty dinner, read the recipe, and think about making this yourself. Then I’ll tell you the secret about how it arrived on our plate at the end of this post.



8 Bison filet mignon wrapped in lean bacon
8 Corn tortillas Balsamic vinegar reduction sauce
Goya canned black beans
Salsa
Pepper jack cheese
Fage Greek yogurt
8 large Basil leaves

Prepare vinegar reduction by heating one cup of good balsamic vinegar with salt and fresh ground pepper over medium heat until it forms thick syrup (about 15-20 minutes). Let cool. Bake 2 cans black beans, 1cup salsa, covered by one cup of shredded jack cheese at 400 degrees for 20 minutes or until brown and bubbly. Allow yogurt to come to room temperature. Grill bison for 3-4 minutes (depending on size) on each side until medium rare. Remove bacon from bison steak. Prepare a ‘stack’ as follows for each plate: steamed tortilla, scoop of baked beans/cheese, grilled bison steak, tablespoon of balsamic reduction applied in ‘stripes’ with a squirt bottle, one tablespoon of Greek yogurt, a large fresh basil leaf for garnish. Serve with tangerine and butter leaf salad dressed with basil mint vinaigrette (recipe below); skewers of grilled shrimp, purple onion slices, grape tomatoes; and oven-roasted rosemary potatoes.

Basil Mint Vinaigrette: whir a handful of fresh mint, a handful of fresh basil, ¼ cup raspberry vinegar, 1tablespoon honey, pinch salt, and 1tablespoon fresh lemon juice in blender. In a slow drizzle, add ½ cup peanut oil mixed with /2 cup extra virgin olive oil to the mix, careful not to allow to become too thickened. Drizzle over butter lettuce topped with slices of tangerines and fresh green onion.

Just for a moment, suspend all disbelief. Place yourself in a beautiful mountainous community in the Colorado Rockies, about an hour south of Denver. Elk saunter the streets in groups of five or six and graze in the yards of the sleepy town, unafraid of cars and protected from predators, human or otherwise. In all, there may be as many as forty or more elk in a herd at any time. You stay in a cabin in this quiet village that might have been lifted from a story by the Grimm brothers. You cook most of your meals in the fully stocked kitchen, but need to purchase fresh food for the week of your stay. You look at the roaming elk and think to yourself, "wow, now there's a meal I can wrap myself around. I wonder where game is bought in this town?" You don't find it at the local grocer, but during a quick perusal of the phone book, you see "Quiet Ranch Game Meat." Scribbling down the address on the corner of the newspaper nearby, you jump in the wagon, and ride to the mall where the game ranch office conducts business. The address you hold in your hand is not where the phone book told you it would be. So, you call the listed number. A monotone-voiced woman answers your cell call and tells you to wait at the mumbly-jumbly rustic mall, but look for a blue and white pickup with a man with a German Shepherd. "OK, you think, this is unorthodox, but I'm here and I still want to cook elk tenderloin on the grill for dinner." A man with the dog in the phone description arrives, but the truck is not blue and white. In fact, there's very little color left on it. He screeches to a stop at the back of the mall, jumps out and heads for a door located in a basement area of what no longer looks to you like a mall, but a storage facility. You realize this is your 'contact.' You begin to suspect you are making a meat deal and wonder if this is legitimate. But already mostly committed, you introduce yourself and follow the uncommunicative man down the stairs to a locked door behind which there are two 9 ft. freezers. The man opens the freezer facing you and begins to ferret through cardboard boxes of vacuum-packed meat. The labels read "bison sirloin,' "elk roast," elk tenderloin." By this time, your husband and the two friends who invited you to stay in their fantasy cabin are watching you and shaking their heads. The other woman in your group says, "you aren't really going to buy, are you?" Your husband, having been through many years of eventful marriage to you, already knows the answer. "I'll take two whole tenderloins. How much do I owe you?" The man with the dog says, "lady, you need to follow me up the road to weigh the meat. I don't know the price until I weigh it." Now, even you with the adventurous spirit begin to think you've gone beyond your boundaries. "OK, can we walk?" you hear yourself saying. "No, ma'am, you don't want to do that. Just follow me in my truck." Your friends take you, but tell you what they have suspected all along, "you're nuts!" Your trip 'down the road' leads you to the "Quiet Village Game Ranch and Memorial Park." You follow the truck past a pet cemetary, a regular cemetary, past live buffalo, elk, goats, and chickens to a mortuary. Inside the rambling 'facility,' past viewing rooms, a gun collection, and historical museum of sorts, is an office where the game is weighed. You pay while your friends swear off your friendship. Back at the cabin, you thaw the elk, saute a few pieces in olive oil, wine, and garlic, and the smell and taste allow friendship to flow once more. But, the next time you cook game meat, you go to Central Market. As unforgettable as your elk meal was, some things are better as a memory.