by Josey Miller
Grub! The first stop on our Jackson Hole, Wyoming girls' getaway was the outdoor seating area at Shades Café for some delicious veggie burritos and dish about Elizabeth’s latest architecture adventures and Rita's house hunt.
Next, we were off to Albertson’s supermarket. I, for one, was ecstatic to have a full-sized grill for the weekend: what a luxury to a Manhattanite like myself. We zipped through the aisles at tourist speed to buy the ingredients for the recipes we’d chosen to cook on two of our three nights: grilled zucchini with olives and fresh mint, Big Daddy’s California turkey burgers, honey-ginger salmon (we used chicken instead of fish) and some seasonal favorites like watermelon and sweet corn. Rita and I chose some freshly ground coffee to share—"Cow
boygirl Blend," naturally—and headed to the liquor store next door for a bottle of my favorite white, Silverado Sauvignon Blanc. (Being a resident of San Francisco, she’d come armed with a bottle of Rosé.) Finally we were ready to hit the road to Star Valley Ranch, about an hour south of the city, where we’d rented a shockingly spacious house.
We were greeted with a note on the door. It started, "Hi, I’m Evan and I’m the house care taker. The keys are in the Weber Grill." (Uh, you might as well just put them in the doorknob, Evan.)
And, with that level of high security, we felt small-town initiated. We settled into our respective rooms and whipped up our supper. The bugle would sound early the next morning (on vacation standards anyhow), and we needed our rest.
(To be continued.)