Early this spring, restaurateur Sam Arnold was asked if he’d consider closing his suburban Denver establishment to the public for one Saturday evening in June to accommodate an exclusive party of out-of-towners who were scheduled to gather in Denver for a high-level economic conference. The guest list would be headed by President Clinton and included the presidents and prime ministers of Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, Russia and the United Kingdom — The Summit of Eight — and their wives.
This was to be no ordinary powwow, but then The Fort — as I learned on a visit shortly before the conference — is no ordinary restaurant.
Someone once had sent me a postcard from The Fort, but I hadn’t been very impressed. Located in the red sandstone foothills southwest of the city, the adobe complex looked — at least from the road — like a highfalutin Taco Bell. In past years we’ve enjoyed the more traditional Brown Palace Hotel and the Buckhorn Exchange, so spending an evening at what I gathered to be a theme restaurant didn’t sound terribly appealing.
We never visit the Denver area without spending a few days at the mountain home of our friends Al and Sherrie Huffman. Having lived here since the ’50s, they seem to be familiar with every eatery within a hundred miles. So when I told them I really had a taste for buffalo tenderloin roasted to perfection, Al phoned The Fort and reserved a table for 6 that very night.
Arriving a few minutes early, we passed through the wooden doors and into a spacious courtyard — and realized then that we were in for an extraordinary evening.
Despite the bright lights of Denver shimmering in the distance, we had, as far as we were concerned, been transported back in time to Bent’s Fort, the famous Santa Fe Trail fur-trading and supply center established by brothers Charles and William Bent and their partner, Ceran St. Vrain, along the banks of the Arkansas River in 1833.
(The National Park Service operates an even more elaborate reconstruction of Bent’s Fort — the original was destroyed by fire in 1849 — on its actual site near La Junta, Colo., 160 miles to the southwest. It’s absolutely worth seeing, but Arnold’s replica was built first, has better parking and — best of all — offers visitors incomparable selections of food and drink.)
With period cannons aimed in the direction of the city below us, the convincing aura of the courtyard was further enhanced by live fire pits, a Plains Indian tepee, a beehive oven for baking bread and pies, a bell tower and a pair of bastion towers — one containing a wine cellar and the other a private dining room.
A successful advertising executive with an insatiable fascination with the early West, Arnold originally conceived this fortified hacienda as his private home, a dream castle constructed of sun-baked adobe bricks and hand-hewn beams that would approximate, to his mind’s eye, the lusty era of the mountain man.
Working from historical drawings, he contracted a 25-man crew of laborers and artisans from Taos, N.M. As the walls began to take shape, spiraling costs forced him to realize that in order to see the project through, he’d have to convert his fantasy into a commercial enterprise — say, a restaurant.
That was in 1963, and in the ensuing decades Arnold has established himself as an authority on award-winning frontier cookery and has just authored “The Fort Cookbook: New Foods of the Old West from the Famous Denver Restaurant” (HarperCollins; $30), an attractive volume containing his favorite recipes for wild game as well as vegetables, breads and desserts.
We would have liked to have lingered outdoors on the patio, but our table was ready exactly when promised and, while the restaurant seats 350, it didn’t seem prudent to dawdle, especially after seeing how quickly it filled to capacity.
After drinks (I ordered the Trade Whiskey, a potent blend of bourbon, red pepper, tobacco and black gunpowder), we were offered appetizers that included rattlesnake cocktail, roast buffalo marrow bones and Rocky Mountain oysters (no, thanks). But our little group settled on a combination platter of jalapenos stuffed with peanut butter, buffalo sausage (excellent) and buffalo tongue (good, but one bite was enough).
As for the entree, I already knew what I wanted, but the others pondered such choices as elk medallions, wild arctic ox, salmon steak or top sirloin of beef. I can’t vouch for our whole table, but my buffalo filet was, by far, the finest I’ve ever tasted. Since The Fort serves more than 50,000 “buffler” dinners a year, other patrons must think so too.
My daughter and my share of the check came to $125.23, including beverages and tip. But paying the tab didn’t mean our jollification was over — not by a long shot.
Sam Arnold had some important business to discuss with Al Huffman, who is something of a local celebrity. For the past 30 years, Huffman has been portraying Buffalo Bill Cody in parades, rodeos and other western-oriented entertainments throughout the United States and Europe. Arnold thought it would be great if he might also be on hand for the summit dinner to sort of mingle and be photographed with guys like Boris Yeltsin and Helmut Kohl.
Reluctant to leave, we repaired to the cozy St. Vrain’s Bar for a nightcap and to congratulate our illustrious scout and guide on his momentous assignment. With glasses raised, we saluted each other with the “Mountain Man’s Toast,” thoughtfully provided on a small business card to each guest:
Here’s to the childs what’s come afore.
And here’s to the pilgrims what comes arter.
May yer trails be free of griz,
Yer packs filled with plews,
And fat buffler in yer pot!
WAUGH!
Perhaps we didn’t comprehend every line of that sentiment, but we sure had a fine rendezvous and promised each other we’d do it again next year.
Note: Huffman reports that The Summit of Eight had a splendid evening and seemed totally enchanted with Buffalo Bill, their cannon-fire salute, a serenade by five fiddlers performing frontier tunes and especially their dinner, which included buffalo with whiskey tortilla sauce, mesquite grilled quail and cinnamon smoked lamb. “But they didn’t have any more fun than we did,” says Huffman.
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The Fort, 19192 Colorado Highway 8, Morrison, Colo. 80465 (303-697-4771), is open year-round. Upcoming special events include an 1840s Thanksgiving feast (noon-8 p.m., Nov. 27); a free Farolito lighting — a southwestern observance in which participants toss pine cones into a bonfire in remembrance of loved ones — with Christmas carols and hot cider and gingerbread cookies (Nov. 30); and Santa Lucia, a Swedish folk celebration centered on the saint with a halo of candles (Dec. 13).
