Three Sisters Tavern – Colorado City, Colorado

Readers across the Land of Enchantment are probably aghast and verklempt at reading Governor Polis’ declaration about Pueblo chile, especially the line that reads “the very best chile that exists.”  New Mexicans consider such prattle to be heretical, blasphemous and outward nonsense.  There is no chile nearly as enchanting as the chile grown in Hatch, Chimayo, Lemitar, Deming, Jarales and other fecund valleys across New Mexico.  To say otherwise is perhaps to be enrapt after smoking Colorado’s real cash crop.  Sadly, Governor Polis isn’t the only person to have declared Colorado chile superior to New Mexico’s.

In 2019, author Gustavo Arellano (probably best known for his “Ask a Mexican” column and book) blazed his own chile road trip along I-25.  He published his observations in an Eater article titled “The Great American Chile Highway.”  The article was subtitled “A palate-scorching, Mexican hamburger- and adovada-fueled road trip up I-25 from Las Cruces to Denver.”  Traversing the 643-mile stretch of Interstate 25, Arellano was fueled “by the one thing that unites the disparate communities along the way — chile.”   Over three days, he saw and tasted how restaurants along the “Chile Highway” approach their spicy muse.  He observed that “the dishes here rarely venture far from what’s now I-25 because their essence is tied to the chiles grown along the route.”

Arellano ended up eating “chile” 38 different ways.  A California resident perhaps not accustomed to the piquancy and potency of New Mexico and Colorado chiles, he admitted “Like Icarus, I flew — or rather, ate — too close to the heat. At times, I felt like the trip might actually turn me into a living Human Torch. But like the Phoenix, I rose from the proverbial ashes, spitting nothing but fire.”  In the Land of Enchantment, he dined at such paragons of pungency as San Antonio Crane, La Nueva Casita Cafe in Las Cruces, Arrey Cafe in Arrey, Blake’s Lotaburger (ubiquitous across New Mexico), El Camino in Socorro and many others.

When he crossed into Colorado, Arellano observed “Hispanos settled southern Colorado in the 1850s, and many manitos (the nickname their descendants go by) feel greater kinship with northern New Mexico than they do with Colorado. The result is food as removed from New Mexican food as New Mexican is from Mexican.”  He enjoyed the chile in Trinidad and Walsenburg, but declared “The chile was even better at Three Sisters, a honky-tonk bar in Colorado City. Prominent on the menu was a bowl of Pueblo-style green made from the Mirasol pepper, which manitos grew for over a century and is currently being prepped for its national day in the sun by Italian-American farmers in the San Luis Valley.”

Here’s the part that will boil the Zia flag red blood of proud New Mexicans: “Sorry, New Mexico: Pueblo peppers and their incarnations beat all of your chiles. Just a cup of it at Three Sisters showed why — it was more intense than Hatch, more pungent than Socorro, and as rare as Chimayó. (Colorado growers only harvested about 600 acres of peppers last year, compared to the 8,000 or so that New Mexico registered.)”   Rather than whine incessantly about Arellano’s preference for Colorado chile without actually having tried the green chile at Three Sisters Tavern & Grill, I drove five hours in a torrential downpour to experience that chile.  Our server confirmed that the chile served at Three Sisters is Pueblo’s mirasol chile, a potent (2,500 to 5,000 Scoville Heat Units (SHU), comparable to a jalapeño) pepper.

Arellano also observed that “Mirasol love was all over Pueblo, a city with its own distinct cuisine. There, the most beloved treat is the Slopper, a hamburger patty in a sea of green chile: bar food, bar none. Downtown’s Gray’s Coors Tavern claims to have invented it, and their version is particularly wonderful.”  Several years ago, my Kim and I visited Gray’s Coors Tavern in Pueblo.  My transparency in admitting that the mirasol chile did blow me away resulted in me being compared to Judas Iscariot, Benedict Arnold, Guy Fawkes, Marcus Brutus and other traitors of that ilk.

At the risk of alienating my Pueblo pals David P. Wagner and Rick Montoya, I’m not about to declare Pueblo chle nearly as good as New Mexican chile…at least not the green chile at Three Sisters Tavern & Grill.  Admittedly, I rather enjoyed the cup of So. Co. green chile (savory and rich green chile made with local Pueblo chiles).   It’s somewhat thicker than comparable cups of green chile at restaurants across the Land of Enchantment but it doesn’t have quite the piquant personality of New Mexico’s sacrosanct green chile.  It also doesn’t have as many small cubes of pork.  Then there’s the matter of the tortilla.  It’s more than a bit on the small size.  Four “New Mexican spoons” into which I spooned the chile was all that tortilla could handle.  At least it was a thick tortilla not one of those thin ones you can practically see through.

My Kim’s appetizer choice was a tempura fried avocado (half an avocado, tempura style. Served over signature poblano cream sauce, pico de gallo, and homemade hot sauces).  For just over thirteen-dollars, you might expect at least an entire avocado.  At least we weren’t subjected to the superiority of Colorado’s avocadoes.  This appetizer tastes like a rich, buttery, and incredibly creamy contrast of textures, combining a delicate, savory crunch with a warm, melt-in-your-mouth interior.  My Kim didn’t try any of the accompanying sauces.  The poblano cream sauce had nearly as much heat as the green chile.  Other sauces weren’t quite as good.

When in the Pueblo area, you’ve got to have a “slopper,” the iconic open-faced hamburger or cheeseburger that’s completely smothered in red or green chili, often topped with raw onions.”  The Three Sisters version is called the “Greenhorn Slopper” and it’s described as a “fresh burger patty on your choice of bun or flatbread, smothered with green chile and garnished with lettuce, tomato, onion, black olives, French fries and cheddar cheese.”  It made me happy to see “chile” spelled correctly and not the aberrational Texas way.  For sheer size and ingredient composition, the Greenhorn Slopper reminded me of the Travis from Albuquerque’s K&I Diner.  It’s a Jack Reacher of a meal–enormous and intimidating.  It proved too much even for this trencherman.  With so many ingredients, the green chile actually got a bit lost.  It didn’t have much bite to begin with, but when asked to share its heat with other ingredients, it wasn’t up to the task.

My Kim’s choice was a reuben, but first she had to make sure the corned beef wasn’t from Boar’s Head (she doesn’t like it).  When assured the corned beef was from Hormel, she was happy.  The reuben (slow-roasted corned beef drenched in melted Swiss cheese, housemade 1000 island dressing, and sauerkraut. Served on sliced marbled rye bread) is Three Sisters’ most popular sandwich.  That’s understanding.  It’s a very good sandwich with every element working well together.  The thinly sliced corned beef was tender and delicious.  The sauerkraut was sour–not quite enough to purse your lips, but enough to get your attention.  Though usually served with fries, you should request the onion rings.  They’re superb.

The green chile at the Three Sisters Tavern & Grill may not have won over this cynic, but it’s better than you’ll find at some New Mexican restaurants…and at least “chile” is spelled correctly.

Three Sisters Tavern & Grill
6695 Colorado Highway 165
Colorado City, Colorado
(719)-676-2276
Website | Facebook Page
LATEST VISIT: 30 September 2026
# OF VISITS: 1
RATING: N/R
COST: $$$ – $$$$
BEST BET: Cup of Green Chile, The Slopper, Reuben, Onion Rings, Fried Avocado
REVIEW #1551