How I Build Seasonal Menus Using Colorado Ingredients
Why Local and Seasonal Matter to Me
Every menu I create starts with a simple question: what’s growing around us right now?
Cooking with seasonal ingredients isn’t a trend, it’s the most honest way I know to build a menu that feels alive, grounded, and deeply tied to where we are.
Colorado’s seasons are short, distinct, and dramatic. That’s a challenge I love. It forces me to stay flexible, creative, and in conversation with the land and vendors, whether I’m building a six-course tasting menu for a wedding or a casual dinner for a family in Denver.
What Seasonal Means in Colorado
In late July and early August, I’m chasing Palisade peaches, Olathe sweet corn, and high-country herbs like lemon balm and thyme. Come fall, it’s all about foraged mushrooms, heritage apples, and cold-hardened greens from farms just outside the city. In winter, I lean into storage crops, pickled elements from the summer larder, and rich proteins that warm the bones.
I build menus around what tastes best now, not what’s convenient or available year-round in a box. That’s where the magic is.
How the Menu Comes Together
Here’s how a seasonal menu might unfold:
Start with a star ingredient. Let’s say Palisade peaches are at their peak. I might pair them with prosciutto, pickled mustard seeds, burrata, and grilled sourdough.
Balance the plate. Every dish I serve is built around contrast and harmony. I think about:
Texture: creamy vs crunchy, crisp vs tender
Flavor: richness balanced by acidity, spice against sweetness
Temperature: chilled elements alongside warm, or a just-seared component next to something cool and raw
That balance is what makes a dish feel complete and keeps people going back for another bite.
Layer flavor with preservation. I often use preserved elements, fermented chile paste, citrus or herb salts, wildflower vinegar to tie summer into fall, or winter into spring.
Respect the setting. Cooking at altitude? In a cabin with limited kitchen space? Hosting outdoors? The setting shapes the food and I adjust the menu accordingly.
A Personal Example
Last September, I cooked a four-course dinner for a couple celebrating their anniversary at a cabin near Nederland. It was early fall, the aspens had just started to turn and the markets were full of squash, wild mushrooms, and baby beets.
Here’s what we served:
Delicata Squash "Tataki"
lightly torched slices of squash marinated in champagne vinegar, lemon thyme, and maple syrup served with smoked goat cheese, pickled shallot, and puffed amaranthPorcini Cappelletti
housemade pasta filled with wild porcini duxelles, served in a clarified roasted barley dashi with shiso oil, onion jam, and a parmigiano reggiano espumaSeared Bison Strip Loin
served with smoked baby beets, horseradish soubise, thyme oil, and a celery root paveWarm Apple & Sage Tart
compressed apple slices with sage caramel, gluten free oat struesel, miso butterscotch, and whipped crème fraîche
They told me afterward it was the most relaxed and connected meal they’d had all year. That’s what cooking seasonally can do. It slows everything down. It reminds people where they are, and why they’re here.
Cooking in Step With the Land
Colorado gives us so much but you have to pay attention to catch it at the right moment. That’s what I love about this work. No two menus are the same, and no ingredient is taken for granted.
Whether you’re hosting a celebration in your Denver home or planning a wedding in the mountains, I’ll design a menu that reflects the season, the setting, and you.