The editor calls up with an idea for my column. "Two words, Jon. Chi. Co." What a wag. But, he's right.
Hot springing. One of the great Montana offerings. Chico is the best. There is a lot going on down
there, but I didn't go for the dogsled trek, the mystery weekend, or the horseback riding (all of which
are available), nor even the fabulous fly-fishing. I went for the food and to loll about in the hot
pool. It's a bustling place, for being a little out of the way, but the reasons for it are obvious.
First of all, the setting is gorgeous. There are no craggier mountains than the Absarokas, and Chico
hangs right on their knees with a grand sweeping view of the ranchland valley below. And then, it's a
well-established place, going back to the last century --they even have a ghost (Percie Knowles, 1860-1941,
the first proprietor of the hot springs hotel.) And they have those hot springs, one of Montana's most
pleasurable offerings. The hot springs are very good, about 105 degrees Fahrenheit, or there abouts.
The main pool is large and cool enough for swimming with a smaller lolling pool that is hotter, with a
handy saloon. And...oh, it's real nice, but of course, nobody cares if I went swimming or soaking.
What did I have to eat?
I first visited Chico about twenty years ago and I had such a good time that, to the extent that I can
remember anything, I remember laughing and laughing with Warren Oates in the saloon, and that the food
was good. It was a big, old rambling hotel type place, which had charm, but the rooms were cowboy spartan,
and the walls were pretty thin. Well, Warren is gone, alas, but Meg Ryan is often seen there, which is nice.
And the hotel is still there. The place has been renovated and modernized, but it's pretty much the same
as I remember it and, presumably, the ghost still walks. There is, however, a newer, fancier, ghost-free
log lodge across the spacious yard, and that's where I stayed this time. I recommend it. No TV, no phone,
just a very pleasant, modern room with nice light from a high clerestory kind of window.
I was pleased to find Colin Davis on site. He's been managing the place for Mike and Eve Art, the very
active owners. This is the guy who brought Erik Carr to Gallatin Gateway (See my article in the Winter
1995 issue). Now he has brought Joe Cobb to Chico, and I'd say he's on a roll.
Joe Cobb is a very fine fellow. Young, but he's been around -- Telluride, Vail, Red Lodge, and even as
sous chef in Chicago. Joe has a problem: People who come to Chico know what they like -- what they had
last time. So he has to keep the old favorites on the menu -- the artichoke, the baked brie en croute,
the filet mignon, the mixed game platter -- while exercising his undoubted genius in coming up with new
delights. So, if you haven't been down there lately, the theme seems to be: the new deja vu.
With that in mind, I ate everything. Well, gee... I'm supposed to let you know what's good, aren't I?
So, okay, I went to Chico and ate a sea bass. My rule is avoid seafood when more than 500 miles from
the sea, but don't pass this up. Chefs have discovered the wonderful qualities of Chilean sea bass,
which holds its freshness well. But you have to have a great sauce. In this case, Joe Cobb supplied
a plum sauce with ginger and red pepper. It was delicious.
First, though, let me set the scene... I went into this dining room, which was kind of familiar. A
longish room with many tables with nice table cloths, flowers on them. The manager came over and sat
with me. The maitre d' was running around with a birthday cone hat on his head because it was his
birthday and the staff made him wear it. The atmosphere is elegant without being intimidating.
I loved the corn chowder (just a nice taste of pepper, not too much for anyone), excellent gravlox,
bruschetta, smoked garden oysters (baked au gratin with a smoked tomato bell pepper sauce), smoked
trout (another old favorite, with a Bermuda onion caper and tomato relish)... and when that settled
down, I went after some delicious lamb, from the rack, with a very good lingonberry mint sauce. I was
hungry I guess, or maybe the aromas perked up my appetite after a long drive. My sweetheart companion
was delighted with her wine, which Mr. Davis had selected - he is a very knowledgeable wine expert.
Me, I've had to lay off the wine, I'm afraid, but it sure smelled terrific. It was a California
chardonnay, Mer Soleil, which he had picked out. The owners have commissioned him to establish the
premier wine cellar in the state, and they got the right guy.
What can you say about a rack of lamb? Well, I read a little piece in The New Yorker the other day
about a simple rack at a fancy restaurant; it made my mouth water and it was reminiscent of my
experience at Chico. And it made me realize that this entree can be a familiar flag that first-time
diners can use as a guide to how well a restaurant does its thing. I've had some that was not done
au point, that was too salty, that was not tender, too fatty, not really tasty. This was perfect.
When a rack of lamb is perfect, it's juicy, pinkish to rare in the middle. The wait-person brings
it to the table sizzling, then carefully separates the chops and presents them on a plate with the
vegetables. It has a rosemary flavor which is essential, I think.
Next, a shot at the game platter - excellent antelope, duck breast, elk. Then a sample of Mediterranean
chicken breast stuffed with spinach, Italian peppers, boursin cheese and caramelized onions. I
finished off with two or three dessert that I won't go into, for fear of creating an impression
of swinishness.
I also visited the new greenhouse, where they now grow all their own garden veggies, or many of them.
They have a full time gardener, and this invaluable resource is scheduled to be expanded.
By the way, I saw a Townsend's solitaire on a bush by the pool. I'm telling you, the things a guy
has to do... Sure, a critic's life looks easy - two words: Hah! --- but there is a lot to it.
Chico Hot Springs is a remarkable phenomenon: a genuine family resort. a relaxed western spa, with
first rate grown up cuisine. It is a bustling place, without being at all crowded or hectic.
Let me leave you with this impression. You take a weekend jaunt, cruise down one of the most
beautiful valleys in the world along one of the great rivers (take your fishing rod, by all means),
and bask in a hot pool in one of the most comfortable, even luxurious places around... the sky is
blue, the air is pristine, the folks are pleasant, and you might even see a ghost (to say nothing
of a rare bird). No wonder it's popular. Two words.