Author: bird-cox

I’m going to be up-front with you: You WILL get addicted to these. The Continental Divide has a tendency to do that to people—first, you go for margaritas, and suddenly, every Tuesday becomes Tequila Night. I, personally, am enslaved not only by the hot plates of blues (from which I peel the crispy bits of jack at the end), but by the fajitas, which I can’t write about without salivating. You’ve seen the lines coming out the door on Main Street, right? Down-jacketed people huddling around their lighters? It’s not the neon “get in here” missive; the food, drink and occasionally raucous atmosphere really bring people back.

Too hot to handle? On the contrary: The Divide’s handcut chips, dressed up with goat cheese, are habit-forming.

So. How to replicate the red hot blues? It’s considerably more difficult than its short stack of ingredients looks, because the Divide’s chefs handcut their own chips, make fresh, yummy salsa, and keep their hot sauce recipes on the If I Tell You, I’ll Have to Kill You list. But at least you can have the satisfaction of pulling a hot plate of melted cheese out of the oven. Note: If the term “red hot” makes you skittish, be assured that the goat cheese somewhat neutralizes the spice, without detracting from its flavor.

The Continental Divide’s Red Hot Blues

several handfuls spicy blue chips (they’re on the snack aisle)
1/2 cup jack cheese, shredded
1/4 cup soft goat cheese
2 Tbs. scallions, chopped

extras:
salsa
sour cream
hot sauce

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Put chips on an oven-safe plate or pie dish, scatter jack over them. Crumble goat cheese and evenly distribute over jack. Bake for a few minutes, checking them frequently for an evenly melted and slightly bubbly top. Remove from oven and cover with scallions, slip a second plate underneath so it can be handled, and serve immediately with extras on the side.

This must be what they were actually putting in Popeye’s spinach can.  Seriously—glugging down liquid spinach is smoke and mirrors, people. Matcha’s got it beat by a mile; the bright green leaves pack about a day’s worth of springy energy, without that underside-of-a-rock taste. 

Shake it up with Twisted Branch’s energy drink: It has more pop than Popeye and slower sugars than soda.

Japan’s tea drinkers have enjoyed the powdered green leaves since the 16th century, albeit in the traditional style: whisked in a bowl with hot water, during an elaborate tea ceremony. The Twisted Branch’s cooler puts an ambrosial, if slightly irreverent, spin on the preparation, serving it cold and boosting its delicate flavor with agave nectar (get it at Integral Yoga) and orange blossom water. “Agave nectar is a better choice than sugar because of its low glycemic index—the body absorbs it more slowly. Plus, it’s made from the magic cactus,” says Ryan McSweeney, creator of the cooler recipe. Orange blossom water is exactly what it sounds like, made with petals from the Seville variety. It most commonly laces Middle Eastern sweets recipes, and you can find it at Grand Market. 

Given that this is an original creation, it’s not likely that you’ll be getting this anywhere else, and particularly not with such clean, healthy ingredients.  Cheers.

Twisted Branch Tea Bazaar’s Matcha Cooler

2 Tbs. agave nectar
1 1/2 Tbs. matcha
4-5 drops orange blossom water
ice

In a cocktail shaker, mix agave nectar with a splash of hot water until blended.  Add 3-4 ice cubes, matcha, orange blossom water and cold water until shaker is 2/3 full. Shake vigorously to develop a foamy head, then pour over ice. Frosted glass? Oh, yeah.