Private chef Velvet Valentine reports on the Aspen Food and Wine Festival's pivot toward sustainability and intention, highlighting reduced pork and wine consumption alongside innovative dishes like plantain-topped lobster rolls.

“Less swine, less wine.”
That’s the headline from the front lines of Aspen’s food and wine circuit, delivered by Velvet Valentine, a private chef who knows the difference between a milestone birthday bash and a deep-dive campfire meal in Arizona. She was there, reporting back from the festival while I was stuck in London, nursing a commemorative bottle of Jägermeister I’d snagged at Shaun White’s Snow League event in Laax, Switzerland. (I used ShipSkis to get it home. It was worth the hassle.)
But back in Aspen, the vibe had shifted. The usual suspects were still there, but the menu had changed. Valentine noted that “longevity” had moved from a coffee shop buzzword to an actual food group. You couldn’t throw a spoon without hitting ethical, sustainable cacao sourced by a brand called Coco Polo Bliss. It’s not exactly a surprise for a town of health-forward, educated overachievers who treat their metabolisms like high-performance engines.
And the alcohol? It was still flowing, but perhaps with more intention. Mark Oldman, the wine expert, was sporting a “Not 100% Sober” pin, signaling a cultural shift. People weren’t trying to get plastered anymore; they were trying to feel good while they drank. It’s a subtle but significant pivot for a festival that has long been synonymous with indulgence.
Then there was the food. Creative seafood was the order of the day, but not in the way you’d expect. Valentine pointed to a lobster roll topped with crispy plantains as the standout dish. It was a curious collaboration, a mix of textures and flavors that felt unexpected at a high-end culinary event. The plantains added a sweetness and crunch that cut through the richness of the lobster. It was the kind of dish that makes you pause and rethink what you thought you knew about seafood.
This isn’t just about what’s on the plate. It’s about what’s in the air. The festival is no longer just a gathering of chefs and critics; it’s a barometer for the town’s evolving identity. The emphasis on sustainability, on longevity, on less swine and less wine, reflects a community that is becoming more conscious of its impact. It’s a shift from excess to experience.
Valentine’s report came with a warning, though. “I’m inspired to cook with them like t...” The sentence trailed off, leaving the rest to imagination. But the message was clear. The trends at the festival are already making their way into the kitchens of local chefs and the homes of neighbors. The plantains are coming. The sustainable cacao is coming. And the “Not 100% Sober” movement is already here.
It’s a different Aspen now. Not the one that was, but the one that is. And it’s delicious.





