As told to Amanda Rae
Text by Trevor Triano
“Desserts first, life’s uncertain!” Gretl Uhl put that sign up in the ’60s, back when Bonnie’s was Gretl’s on Aspen Mountain. They built a wooden shack halfway down the hill, and Gretl made strudel and goulash. She used these heavy cast-iron pans to make the strudel, and they were a bear to wash—can you imagine?
Bonnie Rayburn and Peter Greene got the restaurant in 1980, along with Gretl’s recipe for strudel. You think Aspen is high altitude? Go bake at Bonnie’s—10,400 feet above sea level—and see what happens to your cakes!
My first year working at Bonnie’s was 2002, when owner Brigitte Birrfelder was pregnant with her daughter, Annika. What’s not to love about getting first tracks and skiing to work? If it’s a powder day you go in a little later. Then you’re surrounded all day by people who love to do what you love to do: ski.
Sometimes we’d have a line out the door. How I put in cheeseburger orders became a big deal. Everyone in the restaurant would hear, One cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeseburgahhhhhh! on the loudspeakers. The grill guys from El Salvador loved when I worked because they could understand my orders. Their shrimp tacos and pico de gallo are to die for!
All of the food at Bonnie’s is made from scratch: Philly cheesesteaks, Reuben sandwiches, chicken chowder, salad with salmon or ahi on top, soups, homemade bread. We had women from the original Wienerstube restaurant as cooks. Brigitte grew up at the Sundeck; she knows how to run a business, and she doesn’t skimp on ingredients. I used 34 percent milkfat in my whipped cream because we found that works best for whipping. Our pie cherries are from Colorado orchards. And you don’t get better blueberries than Wyman’s of Maine. I’m from Maine, so I know!
Colorado Rome apples are the secret to the restaurant’s famous strudel—that, and love. We use an old-fashioned hand-crank machine that peels and cores the apples, one at a time.
Brigitte created the oatmeal pancake. Oh god, that pancake can’t be beat, and you can’t duplicate it at home. I’ve tried! I had a plain pancake every single day when I worked. People can buy a pint of real maple syrup and leave it at the restaurant, like mugs hanging on the hooks at an Irish pub. Jack Nicholson, Antonio Banderas, and Melanie Griffith, they would all come through Bonnie’s.
Before Colorado, I was a schoolteacher in Maine, living on Lake Sebago halfway between my parents’ home in Portland and our ski chalet in Bridgton, where I learned to ski at age 3 at Pleasant Mountain. I came to Aspen on vacation in 1975. I wanted more freedom in my life. I looked around Aspen—the beauty of the area, the small-town feeling—and knew this was my place. Everybody had a lust for skiing. God skied! It was the vibe that drew me in.
I worked in a restaurant on Nantucket that summer, then packed my yellow Volkswagen Bug and moved here for the winter of ’76. Independence Pass was paved by that point, but it was gnarly. I worried that the car wouldn’t make it!
I returned East to Nantucket in the summer, then back to Aspen in winter. I continued that lifestyle until 1986. I call that my ‘decade of decadence.’ If you were ever hungover in Aspen, the first run of the day was always Walsh’s. That trail kicks your ass.
If you’re going to be part of a resort community, I say live in the middle of it, with mountain access. Back in my day, it was affordable. It wasn’t groomed back then—not like it is today—but it was light, soft.
In 1988, I bought my home downtown through the Housing Authority lottery. Out of ten people, they drew my name: Margaret Dole. I stood there for a second before I realized, Oh, that’s me! I was always called Muffin. Before my mother died in 1994, she said, “You will always be a Muffin to me.”
When I was little, I used to have a recurring dream about living in the mountains. Years later, after I moved to Aspen, that dream popped to the forefront of my mind. I hadn’t thought about it since I was a kid. Your subconscious will work toward what you want if its deep in your soul.
The best decision I ever made in my life was moving here. I think we all feel that way. Aspen is cosmopolitan, with an amazing community. Walking downtown, you hear languages from around the world and heart-stopping music by young musicians. Theatre Aspen has Broadway actors. Aspen is the ski capital of the West.
After our shift at Bonnies, we’d change back into our ski clothes and boots, which we’d shove under the pizza oven in the kitchen to keep warm. Then we’d run outside, grab our skis, and take a final run—how can you do anything but smile?
Bonnie’s is still a tight-knit family. Everyone works hard and is connected for life. My leaving after last season was the end of an era. I was old school.
Now I’m on oxygen 24/7, and the machine doesn’t like ice-cold temperatures. If it clonks, how much time do I have before ski patrol can get to me with more oxygen? Still, since I’m not working at Bonnie’s this winter, I’m going to play. That’s what you do when you’re 74: You go for more! I will visit, though. I love the pizza. And I must have a slice of blueberry pie every once in a while, to remind me of home.