At All Roads North, we believe that a place is nothing without its people. So often, when we ask our clients the most memorable parts of their journey, it’s not the Instagram-worthy landscape or acclaimed hotel that they mention, it’s the encounters they had along the way. That’s why our trips are carefully designed to make those connections, providing you with an authentic and immersive experience. These experiences– whether it be with a local craftsman, musician, chef or marine biologist– are the inspiration for our Connections series, where we talk to friends of All Roads North to get an insider’s look at some of our favorite places across the U.S.

What originally lured you to Taos?

Zak: In 1995, a couple of ski bumming buddies of mine called me up and said I had to get out to Taos and ski at Taos Ski Valley. I flew out with another friend. We slept in sleeping bags on the floors of the dirtbag apartment, in which they were living and skied every day. We hiked Kachina Peak, skied the west basin…the terrain blew my mind. Also, there was no one around, the mountain was quiet; no lift lines, no crowded trails, just bluebird days and steep terrain. In college I had always dreamt of becoming a ski bum, but my career got in the way.

What made you decide to call it home?

Jori: Zak and I were living in the Hudson Valley and running Fish + Game. The winters were slow, long, and dark so we would close and spend our winter breaks away in Taos. We’re both avid lovers of mountains and snow and skiing and I crave the sunshine, and Taos had it all. We bought a house in 2017 and holed up there during the pandemic, then decided to sell our restaurants and our home in New York and make Taos our full-time place.

Taos Pueblo

Three words that describe Taos.

Jori: Land of mañana
Zak: Untethered, anachronistic, expansive

What lives up to the hype?

Zak: The landscape. The light changes every day. The mountains take on different shapes and inhabit different spaces. The weather can change faster than you blink. This is the second largest rift in the world and in that sea of sagebrush and endless horizon the significance of the individual shrinks…and eventually disappears.

What’s underrated in Taos, overrated in Taos, personal favorite, and a recent discovery?

Jori: Underrated: The stone fruit that grows here! Seriously the best apricots, cherries, and plums I’ve ever had anywhere. The Fruit Basket in Velarde (between Santa Fe and Taos) has been in business by the same family since 1598. Overrated: The Motorcycle Rally in Red River each summer (oh man, everyone in Taos is going to hate me now). It’s so loud. Personal Favorite: Chokola Bean to Bar is a worldwide, award-winning chocolatier with exceptional products that blow my mind. Recent Discovery: A man called Harold who has a shop inside his family’s home in the Taos Pueblo has a herd of true wild buffalo on his land outside the Pueblo village and he takes people with him to feed them in the mornings.

What was the inspiration for Corner Office?

Jori: Our wine cellar that we moved with us from New York was down to the final three cases. At the time, nobody in this state sold the wines we wanted to drink so we decided if we were to get the wines we were interested in drinking, we should open a wine bar.  Also, there isn’t a natural wine bar in Taos and we felt the town needed that gap filled. The food menu changes seasonally with a few staples that might not ever come off the menu as well
as weekly specials. 

Where do you go to get your nature fix?

Jori: The whole place is just one massive nature fix. It’s only a short drive from our house to the parking lot for the hike to Wheeler Peak (the highest peak in New Mexico) or the lot for Lift 1 for skiing. There are a gazillion trails from flat mesa walks to steep climbs everywhere. The Rio Grande is eight minutes from our house and there are lots of trails to traverse via foot or bike down into the gorge for a swim in the summer. 

Zak: Go a bit further and you have the Rio Costilla, Valle Vidal, Conejos River, San Luis Valley…it’s all sky and earth here.

The Rio Grande Gorge

What surprised you most about the food scene?

Jori: For a small town, I was surprised by the diversity of the cuisine, from Middle Eastern, Indian, Filipino, farm-to-table, sushi, Mexican, New Mexican, Native cuisine, and more. 

Zak: There’s a sense of independence here and also a certain scarcity due to how remote it is, which means people cook for themselves, butcher their own meat, and forage for the country’s best porcini. I think this has created natural relationship with cuisine that is quite unique from other parts of the States in which I’ve lived where a greater variety of products are available and dining out is more of a routine. 

Where do you take friends to eat when they’re in town?

Jori: Our standard go-to since we moved here is Medley. We describe it as the town’s tavern. It’s great for groups. There’s something for everyone and they make great cocktails. For lunch, there’s nothing better than Ranchos Plaza Grill for the absolute best red chile sauce in all the land.   

What’s your Sunday morning in Taos look like?

Jori: Sunday is our last day of service at Corner Office before our “weekend”,so often the morning is very mellow and depending on my exhaustion level is either some outdoor activity or a cuddle into the couch with a movie or book until it’s time to head to work.

Zak: Tuesday is our Sunday and that means if it’s ski season, I’m up on the mountain, if not, probably a couple hours biking in the desert or Jori, and my dog Waylon and I are down by the Rio Grande, drinking wine, playing in the river, enjoying the sunshine.

Get in touch to start planning your own New Mexico adventure or take a peek at our sample journey, Back to the Future in New Mexico

The post Connections: Taos with Zak Pelaccio and Jori Jayne Emde appeared first on All Roads North.

But walking into Taos Pueblo itself was a different sensation entirely. The entrance opens up to a large grassy area and on either side sit the red adobe buildings, arranged in tiers as much as three high. Through the middle runs a small stream, partly iced over now and crossed by two small wooden bridges. Snow was still on the ground, the sky was a clear blue in the crisp mountain air and tendrils of smoke drifted from the chimneys. Groups of seemingly feral dogs were chasing each other in circles, running between the smouldering remains of bonfires that were left from Christmas celebrations. Looking around there was nothing that resembled modernity; no tarmac, no bricks, no electricity wires, no shop signs, nothing. Even in the remotest African village there’s sure to be a Coke or mobile phone logo somewhere but not here. Other than a smattering of Gortex clad tourists, still visibly recoiling from their inability to post to Instagram, we could have returned to the middle ages. Taos Pueblo, ancestral home of a Tewa-speaking Native American tribe, is the oldest continually inhabited settlement in the United States. It was built somewhere between 1000 and 1450 with one of the few concessions over the years being the introduction by the Spanish of the pretty turquoise doors that now adorn each home.

RELATED: Taking the high road to Taos from Santa Fe

By chance I had arrived on Three Kings Day, a feast day in the pueblo which was to be celebrated with the deer dance. Now well past the stated midday start time, groups of people, a mixture of tourists and locals, were waiting on either side of the creek. There was an air of anticipation and every so often women would pop their heads out of the blue doorways or walk across the roofs that linked the second floor homes. Definitely in their finery, bright colored shawls covered their shoulders and moccasin boots their feet. For another hour the tension built as the onlookers waited for something to happen. It started with a steady, almost imperceptible drum beat that came from somewhere behind the buildings on the south side of the creek, growing in volume with each strike. Soon a close knit group appeared in the distance, shuffling to the beat of the drum. Moving herdlike, each man had the head of a bison or elk on his shoulders. With the timeless backdrop and smoke in the air, it was a sight that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. The drumming continued to grow louder and a monotonous, melodic chant struck up. Soon another drum beat erupted from the other side of the pueblo followed by a similar antler clad group. The two gatherings slowly made their way to the middle and met at the creek. At a closer distance I could see that all the participants were men but with a full range of ages down to a four or five year old boy, dwarfed by the huge bison head he carried on his shoulders. At the rear of the possession was a row of what I took to be the elders. They weren’t wearing antlers or skins but rather a red earthen paint on their bodies and a feather in their hair. Each carried a drum and sang in a low rolling chant, a look of absolute seriousness on their face. As they passed beneath the tiered adobe buildings the watching women would call out in a high pitched shrill note. Together it made a striking soundtrack.

It was clear that events were in no way directed at the watching tourists and were not for show. Visitors tended to hang back respectfully, not wanting to get in the way of the locals who were in the crowd. Many did not appear to live in the pueblo itself but were clearly part of the community. The singing and dancing continued well into the afternoon in the middle of a large crowd in front of the San Geronimo Church. The significance and meaning of what goes on at the deer dance remains a mystery to me and I know that Taos Pueblo wants to keep it that way.

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