beachy and Spanish-speaking". But, this year alone I will be going to a tiny mining town in Arizona called Bisbee for the wedding of two friends, and have even agreed to brave the snows of Missoula, Montana later this month. Who am I?
Pappy and Harriet's, and I was one of them. Five miles up a windy road from Yucca Valley lies Pioneertown, a 2-block stretch built as a movie set for westerns in the 1940s. As amazing and kitschy and perfect as you'd imagine, it's the home of Pappy And Harriet's Pioneertown Palace.
I loved having a night like I'd never have in Los Angeles: cowboy boots and twangy acoustic guitar jams are usually not my scene. But when a place has a vibe as warm as Pappy's, you don't mind the fact that it's the only bar for miles. Barhopping isn't an option, but it's fun to be committed for the long haul to one bar and everyone in it. And when the night's headliners, an Austin country rock band called Deadman, covered The Band's "The Weight", this city girl was dancing along with all the cowboy hats.
But you want to know about the food. Well, it was pretty good. Steaks and ribs were grilled on a outdoor mesquite fire, but they weren't amazing. Tacos and quesadillas were great, made even better with homemade salsa. But the chili -- chunky, smokey, and assertively spiced -- was the real prize. (Especially over nachos. That's right. Chili nachos.)