Big Pleasures in Big Sky Country
Two Montana lodges tame the Wild West

The reclusive American philosopher Henry David Thoreau insisted that “we need the tonic of wildness,” to which I’d add, “A little gin in the tonic wouldn’t hurt.” Toss in good food and a great bottle of wine, and I can withstand all the beauty Mother Nature can throw at me.

This thought occurred to me very vividly on a recent trip to the most majestic state in the union— Montana, all 147,000 magnificent square miles of it. I’d come to the southwest corner of the state in early fall to explore Yellowstone National Park and, not incidentally, to bed down at a couple of lodges just outside the park that claimed impressive wine lists and first-rate cuisine.

As always, Yellowstone more than lived up to its promise—there’s a reason why this was America’s first national park. Not only did I see deer and antelope playing, but in just my first day of touring I saw herds of buffalo hunkering down in snowdrifts, scores of elk blocking traffic and nibbling grass on the lawns of Park Service buildings, bighorn sheep scampering across mountain cliffs, and that rarest of roadside sightings, a grizzly bear. It’s impossible not to fall immediately in love with the geysers, lakes, and picture-perfect rivers of Yellowstone and the Big Sky country immediately to its north.

However, even the most indefatigable 21st-century traveler likes to return to a warm hearth at twilight, to say nothing of a fair meal. And I was well aware of the words of Horace Greeley, who famously advised, “Go West, young man,” but who also counseled that what the West really needed was “a thousand good cooks.” Fortunately, and frankly to my amazement, excellent cooks are employed at both Chico Hot Springs Resort and Rainbow Ranch Lodge.

I say amazement because I’d looked at a map and noticed that these lodges are a long way from anything like a major city or other attraction that might lure serious restaurateurs. Bozeman, a charming college town and the region’s airline hub, counts a mere 40,000 residents. Livingston, about 30 miles east, is a third that size.

But the map didn’t tell the whole story. Century-old Chico, nestled in the aptly named Paradise Valley, has long been a hot spot for reasons other than its geothermal springs; it’s the gathering place for Montana’s literary and Hollywood crowd, folks like novelist Thomas McGuane, artist Russell Chatham, and actor Peter Fonda. After a pause, or more, in Chico’s atmospheric Old West saloon, they have the means and inclination to walk through the doorway to the restaurant for a fine meal and a bottle of wine.

Rainbow Ranch Lodge, set on the Gallatin River south of Bozeman, lures fly-fishing fanatics and affluent skiers from Big Sky and the ultra-exclusive Yellowstone Club, both of which are just a few miles north. Savvy tourists bound for sightseeing in the park have also discovered both places. With a clientele in place, can day-boat scallops and free-range chickens be far behind?

My first stop was at Chico Hot Springs Resort, in the virtually nonexistent town of Pray. A century ago this was a thriving resort; by 1900 there was a clapboard hotel on the property. Then a hospital was attached. The current proprietors, Mike and Eve Art (who bought the place in 1972) have made an admirable success of the resort. The first thing I saw when I drove up was a group of aspiring anglers practicing fly-casting on the front lawn in a snowstorm.

Thank heavens the Arts have retained the 19th-century ambience of the lodge, with its rough-hewn wood, oak furniture, and rooms devoid of televisions and telephones. (Rooms in the main building start at under $50, even in summer, though some have bathrooms down the hall. The three newer wings are considerably more modern.) The hot springs are still in use, and bathing in the steamy waters when the temperature is in the thirties continues to have its restorative effect.

I was also charmed by the rustic dining room, where generous buffet breakfasts are a major affair in the morning. But I wasn’t prepared for the high quality of the dinners at Chico, and certainly did not expect to find one of the finest wine cellars in America at an affordable lodge in Pray, Montana.

Out back they grow their own vegetables and herbs year-round in a geothermally heated greenhouse. The beef is bred in Montana, the fowl and trout are signature items, and Mike has been known to drive 200 miles to pick up fresh seafood for chef Chris Clark to prepare that evening.

I was fortunate enough to dine in the wine cellar—actually an aboveground stone structure as evocative, intimate, and pretty as any in the West, the kind of room where you’d expect Ben Cartwright and his boys to eat Sunday dinner. Seated with about 15 guests, I began a feast built around several Wine Spectator magazine picks for Wine of the Year over the past several years—a tour de force few restaurants in America could mount. (Wine Spectator has given Chico its Award of Excellence.)

Maybe it was the hours I’d spent in the fresh air, but my appetite was roaring as I tucked into an appetizer portion of pine nut­crusted halibut in a port-wine butter sauce, along with a Veuve Cliquot rosé. Later came a rosemary-and-hazelnut crusted rack of full-flavored western lamb, and a succulent grilled porterhouse of antelope in a huckleberry demi-glace—a dish that evoked a true sense of the bounty of the region.

The wines, on the other hand, reflected the greatness of a variety of far-flung regions: a superb ’95 Château Ducru-Beaucaillou from Bordeaux, the big but mellowed ’86 Beringer Private Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon from the Napa Valley, the velvety ’96 Chateau St. Jean Cinq Cepages Cabernet Sauvignon from Sonoma; and the exquisitely aristocratic Tuscan, Antinori Solaia from the magnificent ’97 vintage. For dessert we had morsels of Parmigiano-Reggiano, Maytag blue, fresh pears, and walnuts, along with a ’94 Fonseca Port (a tad young, but delicious).

When I say I have rarely had wines of this quality paired with such fine food, I am actually trying to think of a single other instance. That I had a similar experience two days later, at the Rainbow Ranch Lodge, was nothing short of amazing.

Rainbow Ranch is more upscale than Chico without blurring the lines between rustic and posh. Originally a cattle ranch, and once called the Halfway Inn because of its situation between Bozeman and West Yellowstone, the low-lying wooden structure sits peaceably on the banks of the fast-running Gallatin River—a blue-ribbon fishing spot—with Yellowstone just 12 miles south and the Spanish Peaks Wilderness Area immediately north.

Proprietor Patrick Hurd pretty much rebuilt the place and its additions over the last few years, right down to the gazebo grill and covered deck and the suites done up with pine beds, river rock fireplaces (which a staffer will light for your return from dinner), and a wine cellar of daunting depth—more than 600 selections and 6,500 bottles set within stone archways surrounding the Bacchus private dining room, with its harvest table crafted from an old sign.

Here, as well as in the upstairs dining room overlooking the river, chef Colin Smith turns out meals I’d rank with some of the best in the West, buoyed by a cellar that also has earned a prestigious Wine Spectator Award of Excellence. The bartender here, a trail runner who competes in a prestigious local race up, across, and down 26 miles of Bridger Ridge, produced what I considered the most perfect daiquiri I’ve ever sipped as I sat in a huge leather chair before the fire.

You just don’t expect to find menus in Montana that begin with Maine lobster poached slowly in butter and served with ricotta gnocchi with trumpet mushrooms and a lacing of truffle oil. Nor a Burmese curry purée with sautéed shrimp, baby spinach, and a garlic crouton napped with asiago cheese.

One night in the dining room, surrounded by a prosperous-looking crowd that included the owner of the Yellowstone Club, I savored a roasted rack of very tender elk that came with spaghetti squash. A friend had a massive bone-in buffalo rib eye that was first rubbed with a chimichurri herb sauce, then topped with an avocado béarnaise, and served with addictive French fries.

I can’t recall having a better slab of cheesecake than the one at Rainbow Ranch, made with Grand Marnier atop a gingersnap crust and a wild berry compote. Ditto the warm chocolate tart with a pear poached in pinot blanc and saffron, topped with caramel.

If Chico and Rainbow Ranch are unique in Montana, they are also very rare anywhere in the United States. These places are testament to the hard work of their proprietors and chefs, who are striving for the very best and by so doing creating a small, exquisite gastronomy within a vast, exquisite land.