Imagine you are on vacation off in the mountains in the middle of nowhere. The sticks. And you are driving down the road and stop at some little hole-in-the-wall- joint with a nice view, a few tables outside. Nothing presumtuous. The waiter, a young guy comes up and gives you water and a menu and asks if you want a beer. What do they have? Oh, 55 different micros in bottles, a smattering of imports and every cheap American beer in a can you can think of. So you order a Liberty Ale and a Grants' IPA. Food? How about the Buffalo style Pheasant legs for an appetizer with a side of the house smoked salmon. For the entrees you just want a burger off the menu and your companion orders the fresh Oregon razor clams with the citrus glaze. A bottle of decent pinot- say Eyrie from Oregon or Calera from Cal. to wash it down. The salad that comes with the entree is made from greens grown locally that showed up at the cafe a little while before you did. The bread is fresh, definately handmade, not some thawed stuff. The rest of the food arrives. The burger is fresh ground chuck, the bun is fresh, the potato chips just came out of the fryer and are tossed in a mild blackening spice. The razor clams are cooked al dente and topped with a glaze of lemon and orange with preserved ginger and garlic. Served on the side are fresh braised baby greens and tiny zuchinnis, carrots and red potatoes the size of your thumb. The billl comes to @75.00 with the Calera and 2 beers. I ran a little place like that for 6 years in the middle of the Idaho wilderness. The coolest thing was seeing the expressions of people who stumbled into the place and were blown away by what I served. Too bad I only had a 4 month season or I probably would have never moved.