Asher on Aspen: From Aspen to Bali — a culinary escape at Wayan

The moment I stepped through the doors of Wayan Aspen, the cold mountain air dissolved into a lush, Balinese dream. Outside, the snow-dusted streets felt worlds away as I took in the scene before me. Warm rattan pendant lights, the rich aroma of burning wood, and the steady rhythm of island beats beckoned me to unwind and savor the moment. Boho and vibey, the space hummed with an effortless coolness, a curated, yet unpretentious, escape.

Cédric and Ochi Vongerichten, the husband-and-wife duo behind Wayan’s wildly successful New York outpost, have managed to pull off something remarkable: a Balinese escape, tucked neatly among Aspen’s high-end boutiques and historic streets. The restaurant is a seamless blend of French sophistication and Indonesian heart, bringing a fresh and inspired concept to the town’s dining scene.

Our server greeted us with a warm smile and explained that everything on the menu was meant to be shared. I loved this. Something about the communal act of passing dishes back and forth, of dipping and twirling and reaching across the table, felt intimate and celebratory.

The room hummed with an intimate, yet lively, energy. A 12-seat bar glowed invitingly, and the walls were adorned with Balinese artwork: textural, earthy, evocative. There was an effortless balance here, a curated blend of sophistication and comfort, like an après-ski chalet that just happens to serve Michelin-worthy Indonesian cuisine.

We started with the avocado “Gado Gado” salad featuring eggs, cucumber, and peanut relish, as well as the chicken satay with peanut sauce and lime. The salad was a standout favorite for me from the start — creamy avocado, crisp cucumbers, and that nutty, umami-packed peanut relish tying it all together. The vegetable spring rolls, served with a green chili emulsion and mint, were fresh, crispy, and beautifully plated.

Then came the corn fritter, a dish our server highly recommended. I wanted to love it. I really did. Being from Iowa, corn is practically in my DNA. But these fritters? Dry, overly fried, and vaguely disappointing. We didn’t finish them.

Kristi, my dining companion, ordered the Calamansi fizz, featuring Roku gin, calamansi, aquafaba, and rosemary. She said it was light and refreshing, not too sweet. I, on the other hand, was partaking in Dry January for the first time ever, so I opted for the passion fruit mocktail. It was nice that they offered non-alcoholic options — something bright, tart, and just sweet enough to make me forget I wasn’t drinking.

For our entrees, we indulged in the lobster noodles. I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to disturb the tangled beauty of the dish, but the aroma of Thai basil was too alluring to resist. The noodles were tender, yet chewy, coated in a glossy black pepper butter sauce. The lobster was succulent, each bite a luxurious contrast of silk and snap. I twirled forkful after forkful, sipping my mocktail in-between bites, wishing the dish would never end.

Then came the dry-aged crescent duck, the undeniable star of the evening. Featuring calamansi gulai, kumquats, and lotus chips, it was an absolute showstopper. Each bite melted in my mouth, the citrus adding brightness, the gulai sauce deepening the flavors with its velvety, spiced richness. Everything we ordered, I noticed, had a little kick to it — not overwhelming, but present enough to remind you that this cuisine doesn’t shy away from boldness.

The night wound down with dessert, and we went all in. The chocolate ganache arrived in the shape of a horseshoe, topped with tiny chocolate crunchy spheres that were nothing short of heaven. Paired with avocado ice cream and coffee sauce, it was decadent, unexpected, and so indulgently satisfying. Even after being (lightly) fat-shamed by the server for how much food we ordered, we enjoyed every last bite.

Stepping back into the cold night, I felt transported. Wayan Aspen isn’t just another new addition to the town’s already stacked dining scene — it’s a portal, a reminder that the best meals aren’t just about food, but about place, story, and sensation. In a town where luxury is often synonymous with exclusivity, Wayan manages to capture something far rarer: warmth, soul, and the kind of magic that makes you want to come back before you’ve even left.