Vermejo is the kind of place that makes you rethink what “ranch cuisine” can be—not because it’s fussy or forced, but because it’s so grounded in the land around it. Tucked into the wild, wide-open beauty of northern New Mexico, Ted Turner’s legendary retreat feels like its own world: part historic ranch, part conservation sanctuary, part culinary destination. And at every meal, the kitchen seems to be saying, Pay attention. This is what this landscape tastes like.

From the first bite, it’s clear the food here isn’t trying to imitate something else. It isn’t “steakhouse” ranch cuisine or “Southwestern” ranch cuisine as we typically imagine it. It’s something more specific and more honest—meals built around what thrives in this region, prepared with skill and restraint so the ingredients can speak for themselves.

Wild game takes center stage, and each one arrives with its own personality—bringing back the same warm nostalgia I associate with my childhood and my dad’s grill. Bison is rich and comforting, with a depth that feels both familiar and distinctly of the plains. Elk surprises with its delicacy—lean, clean, and almost elegant, especially when paired with sauces or sides that add brightness without weighing it down. Antelope is bright and light, the kind of meat that makes you realize “lean” doesn’t have to mean “boring.” Venison, deeply savory and a little earthier, feels like the most direct expression of the high country—robust, satisfying, and perfect for a cool New Mexico evening when the sun drops behind the mountains and the air turns crisp.

Even when the meal turns to fish, it still feels like it belongs here. The trout tasted like it had come straight from the stream moments before—clean, fresh, and perfectly prepared. There’s something special about eating a dish that seems to carry the place with it, almost like a memory you can taste. It’s the kind of simplicity that only works when the ingredients are exceptional and the chef has the confidence to let it shine.

What made the dining experience feel so memorable, though, wasn’t just the lineup of dishes—it was the story behind them. Each course carried a sense of place. You could feel the intention in the way flavors were balanced: earthy elements paired with something bright, rich proteins offset by herbs or seasonal produce, textures that made each plate feel complete. Nothing felt random. Nothing felt like it had been imported from somewhere else just to check a box. Vermejo’s meals feel rooted, like they’re in conversation with the landscape outside the dining room windows.

And then there was dessert—one of those quiet showstoppers that sneaks up on you. After the savory intensity of wild game and the daily catch of trout, the final course tasted like the land in a different season. Dessert came straight from a skillet, the kind of warm, shareable sweet that feels tailor‑made for ranch nights. Think bubbling, golden-edged fruit and buttery crumble, served spooned out while it’s still sizzling and topped with something cool and creamy that melts on contact. And in the afternoons, there were chocolate chip cookies—soft in the middle, a little crisp at the edges—set out for snacking between adventures. Not fussy, not overdone—just cozy, chocolatey comfort you could grab while sitting on the porch to enjoy the view and watch bison roam.

One of our favorite moments at Vermejo, though, wasn’t a plated dish at all—it was a hands-on cooking lesson in Ted Turner and Jane Fonda’s former kitchen. Just saying that out loud sounds surreal, and standing there felt even more so. The space has a quiet presence, like it’s holding decades of stories in its walls. You can’t help but imagine the conversations that happened there, the gatherings, the everyday moments that became part of the property’s larger history.

The cooking lesson itself was pure fun—the kind of experience that instantly makes you feel more connected to the place you’re visiting. There’s something satisfying about being invited behind the scenes, about learning techniques and tasting as you go, about working with ingredients that are so tied to the land you’re standing on. We cooked where so many unforgettable meals have begun, and then we sat down at their dining table to enjoy what we prepared. It felt like stepping into a story for a moment—one that is part New Mexico ranch life, part celebrity history, and part conservation legacy.

That blend of elements is what makes Vermejo feel like magic. It’s the food, yes—the kind of food that makes you pause after the first bite and look at your plate like, Wait, what is this and how is it this good? But it’s also the atmosphere: the sense that you’re somewhere with real history, somewhere that has welcomed dignitaries and notable guests, somewhere that’s quietly extraordinary without needing to announce it.

Between the meals, you carry the experience with you. You think about how different each meal tasted. You remember laughing in the kitchen during the cooking lesson, feeling the strangeness and sweetness of being in that space, and imagining the stories the walls might tell if they could.

Vermejo doesn’t just feed you—it invites you to experience the land through flavor, to understand the region through what’s on the plate, and to leave with memories that feel textured and vivid. For us, it was a highlight in every sense: delicious, surprising, and deeply tied to place. If “ranch cuisine” once sounded like something predictable, Vermejo reimagines it as something wild, thoughtful, and unforgettable.

Check out Ted Turner Reserves; it’s definitely worth it!

Thank you, Chef Eric Franks. Truly a wonderful experience.