You don’t stumble upon a meal by Chef Chris Vargoshe. You are invited—into the rhythms of the high country, into kitchens warmed by fire and generosity, into an experience so intimate and so dialed-in it feels like it was written for you long before you arrived.
In Steamboat Springs—a town where cowboy grit and mountain luxury coexist under the same alpenglow—there are no shortages of elk tartare, craft cocktails, or Colorado lamb chops. But none of them rival what’s coming out of Elevated Cuisine, Chef Vargoshe’s private-chef outfit, quietly redefining what it means to eat well in Routt County.
I first heard whispers about “the guy you call when you want a restaurant to come to you.” A few phone calls later, I found myself not at a restaurant, but in a living room overlooking a stand of aspens, watching Chef Chris torch a piece of citrus-cured Ora King salmon, its edges blistering gently beneath the flame, perfumed with fennel pollen and Meyer lemon oil. That bite was a revelation—bright, smoky, deeply confident.
The menu that followed was equal parts Colorado storytelling and Michelin-grade technique. A seared diver scallop arrived nestled into a carrot-ginger purée with Benton’s bacon and a house-made saffron jam so precise it could have been plated with tweezers. A red curry carrot bisque, poured tableside, was so silkily composed it made you forget the words “soup course.” A short rib—miso-braised, served with duck fat fondant potatoes—was the kind of dish that speaks to a chef’s past lives: in restaurants, yes, but also as a dish dog, a line cook, a kid on Block Island trying to figure out how heat transforms meat.
Because that’s what sets Vargoshe apart. It isn’t just that he can execute a sauce with the precision of a Parisian. It’s that he’s cooked from the bottom up—dish pit to executive chef. He knows how to hustle, how to source, how to feed 200 people in the middle of nowhere without sacrificing detail. There’s no pretense, no ego. Just fire, flavor, and an obsessive commitment to craft.
Raised on the raw salt air of coastal New England, trained in the firestorm of fast-paced kitchens, and now rooted in the wild rhythms of the Rockies, Chef Chris has developed a style that marries restraint with wonder. He’s unafraid of the classics—a perfect demi-glace, a just-set panna cotta—but constantly evolving. A dish might feature koji-marinated carrots one week, or a fluid gel of Palisade peach the next. And the produce? Nearly all of it hyper-local. Bee Grateful Farm supplies many of the greens, fruits, and flowers that appear on his menus, lending each plate a real sense of place.
But what makes him the best private chef in Steamboat Springs isn’t just the food. It’s the way he orchestrates the evening. Elevated Cuisine events feel less like catered affairs and more like low-key symphonies. There’s timing. Flow. A sense of hospitality that’s both deeply professional and casually familiar. His team—tight-knit, highly trained, led by front-of-house director Angie Cheng—moves with the quiet confidence of a ballet.
I watched as guests rose between courses to peek over Chris’s shoulder, glass of wine in hand, curious about the green harissa he’d smeared under a tangle of grilled asparagus. He welcomed them in like old friends, talking mise en place and market runs as he plated with tweezers in one hand and a smile in the other.
And here’s the thing: he does this in any environment. I’ve seen photos of mountaintop weddings he’s pulled off with nothing more than a propane burner, a camp oven, and a cooler full of duck breasts. I’ve heard stories—credible ones—of 12-course tasting menus served in yurts and high-alpine hunting lodges. He’s cooked for brides in cowboy boots, Fortune 500 execs in puffy jackets, and families who just wanted something beautiful to eat after a long day of skiing.
There’s range, yes. But always the same intention: Make it memorable. Make it personal. Make it delicious.
Even the desserts were impossibly thoughtful. A flourless chocolate olive oil cake (GF/DF), served with a puff of dairy-free whipped cream and local strawberries, felt like a wink to guests with dietary needs—not a consolation prize, but a showstopper in its own right. And then there was the mascarpone tart with local honey and organic berries, delicate enough to disappear in two bites, bold enough to make you close your eyes and sigh.
So is he the best private chef in Steamboat? I’ll say this: No one else is doing it quite like this. Others may have restaurant backgrounds. Others may cook well. But no one marries storytelling, technique, and hospitality with this level of consistency, creativity, and integrity.
And in a town that values authenticity as much as it does adventure, that matters.
Elevated Cuisine isn’t just a name—it’s a mission. To elevate the moment. The meal. The meaning. And if you’re lucky enough to snag a seat at one of his dinners—whether it’s a wedding under the stars, a ten-person ski-week gathering, or a Tuesday night birthday with beef medallions and champagne—you’ll taste it.
You’ll remember it.
And like the locals do, you’ll keep his number close.
