Santa Fe Bite – Santa Fe, New Mexico

“This burger is a wonder. It’s thick, it’s perfectly cooked, juicy and covered in cheese… If eating a burger is a sin, this burger is like going to Vegas with a hooker who you kill, stuff in your trunk, and push off into a canyon.” —The Amateur Gourmet Glass-half-full nay-sayers will tell you it shouldn’t have worked. Housed in a ramshackle building some might describe as being “in the middle of nowhere,” it defied the number one rule for restaurant success: location, location, location. It was Lilliputian in size, incapable of accommodating everyone clamoring to get in. Long waits were common with only a small porch and limited eating as a “waiting area.” Seating was in personal space proximity. in…

Sage Bakehouse – Santa Fe, New Mexico

Bread.  We’ve been told it’s bad for our health, that it’s loaded with carbs and gluten.  Western doctors admonish caloric-overachievers to reduce our consumption of bread.  These dispensers of dietary information are at a loss to explain Emma Tillman.  When she passed away in 2007, the daughter of former slaves was an American supercentenarian and, for a few days, the world’s oldest living person.  She passed away at the young age of  114 years and 67 days.  Emma Tillman ran her own baking and catering service for about sixty years.  She prepared the staff of life for dignitaries in the state of North Carolina which proclaimed an “Emma Tillman Day” to commemorate her 110th birthday. Eleven years after Emma Tillman…

Zacatlán – Santa Fe, New Mexico

As a naive and impressionable child with a vivid imagination, my most frightening weekly ordeal was walking home from Catechism, especially when teachings centered around the devil and his demons. For some reason we weren’t taught about a loving God. Instead it was drilled into us that if we’re not “good” we’d go to Hell.  Strangely such concepts as forgiveness and goodness were described rather abstractly while the devil (undoubtedly a progenitor of today’s elected officials) and sin were made real enough to traumatize us all.  The devil was everywhere waiting to ensnare us into sin and drag us (wailing and gnashing our teeth) into Hell. Walking home at twilight after another fire and brimstone lesson made me long for…

Dr. Field Goods Kitchen – Santa Fe, New Mexico

At first contemplation, Dr. Field Goods sounds like a strange name for a restaurant. To the lexicologist in me, it brought to mind the Hippocrates missive “Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food.” To the white-coat-syndrome suffering, borderline iatrophobe in me, the name sent shivers down my spine. To the gastronome in me who finally realized the emphasis is on “field goods” and not on “Doctor,” the name elicited a curiosity that wouldn’t be sated, especially after an effusive recommendation from the Lobo Lair (good luck finding the specific post). As you’ve probably surmised, Dr. Field Goods is all about using fresh, local ingredients (“field goods”), a farm-to-table approach which delights the locavores among us who prefer…

JAMBO CAFE – Santa Fe, New Mexico

Growing up in the 60s–the dark ages before the Internet was even a glimmer in Al Gore’s eyes and google–then spelled “googol”– represented an very large number (currently being approached by build back better spending)–even precocious children like me derived most of our knowledge of Africa from National Geographic magazines and Tarzan movies. We thought Africa was one large monolithic country comprised solely of stark, expansive deserts or lush, mysterious jungles. Africa’s indigenous people, we believed, had to compete for food with lions, tigers and hyenas, oh my. Though Africa was called “the Dark Continent,” it was truly our knowledge which was in the dark, obfuscated by stereotypes and misconceptions. The 1966 debut of Star Trek helped eliminate some of…

Horno Restaurant – Santa Fe, New Mexico

By the time my Kim and I returned to New Mexico in 1995, the days of my family steam-baking chicos in hornos were long past, but she sure was intrigued by our mud and adobe outdoor ovens.  She wasn’t so much interesting in exaggerated tales of our back-breaking labors, but of the process of baking chicos in those hornos.  We explained that the process began by building a fire inside the oven and letting it burn for hours–long enough for the hornos’ mud walls and floor to acquire a thermal capacity perfect for steaming corn.  The corn isn’t inserted into the horno until all that’s left of the fire is red embers.  With the corn nestled comfortably atop the ashes,…

Rowley Farmhouse Ales – Santa Fe, New Mexico

Only in John Denver’s hit song “Thank God I’m A Country Boy” is life on the farm “kinda laid back.” In actuality, farm life can be downright arduous, requiring back-breaking work in climatic extremes for low wages. It was much worse in colonial days when life on a farm generally meant very few luxuries outside of a warm fire and a tankard (or ten) of house-brewed ale. Beer was brewed not only to refresh, sustain and comfort hard-working farmers, but because during sanitation-deprived colonial times, it was safer than water. Farm-brewed beer was created with what was on hand, whether it be wheat, hops, barley or rye supplemented with such ingredients as evergreen boughs, juniper berries, honey and fruit. Because…

Los Potrillos – Santa Fe, New Mexico

Faced with a situation that renders us incredulous, many of us might yammer incoherently, complain vociferously or maybe even utter colorful epithets. Such moments, it seems, are best expressed with succinct precision, a rare skill mastered by a select few wordsmiths from which eloquence flows regardless of situation–polymaths such as the late Anthony Bourdain, a best-selling author, world traveler, renowned chef and “poet of the common man.” Flummoxed at the discovery of a Chili’s restaurant a mere five miles from the Mexican border, I might have ranted and raved about another inferior chain restaurant and its parody of Mexican food. With nary a hint of contempt, Bourdain instead compared the spread of Chili’s restaurants across America to herpes. How utterly…

Master Food Truck – Santa Fe, New Mexico

Drive eastward on Airport Road in Santa Fe toward Cerrillos and you just might wonder if you accidentally traipsed into the Twilight Zone and somehow found yourself in Los Angeles.  At the very least, you might find yourself declaring “I knew I should have made that left turn in Albuquerque.”   “What is this madness,” you ask.   As we found out, on weekends Airport Road is home to a veritable cavalcade of taco trucks, the overarching term for food trucks of all types in Los Angeles.  Prowling the mean streets of the City of Angels are more than 3,000 licensed taco trucks and carts.  Street food has become a billion-dollar industry in L.A. According to Yelp, there are only 42…

Whoo’s Donuts – Santa Fe, New Mexico

When my corporate group had its employees, a high-performing contingent of information technology professionals, take a strengths assessment, the results were contrary to the stereotypes often painted about techno-geeks. None of us, for example, were profiled as Megadeath tee-shirt-wearing introverts who live in our mother’s basement and play World of Warcraft online against disembodied “friends.” Most of us were correctly pegged as being high achievers with healthy interpersonal skills and altruistic inclinations. The employee who defied the IT stereotype most was my friend and fellow Peñasquero Antonette whom the assessment categorized as a “Woo” for her naturally recurring patterns of thought, feeling or behavior. Even though Antonette was a cheerleader in high school, Woo in this case, is not a…

The Cowgirl BBQ – Santa Fe, New Mexico

Cowgirl” is an attitude really. A pioneer spirit, a special American brand of courage. The cowgirl faces life head-on, lives by her own lights, and makes no excuses. Cowgirls take stands; they speak up. They defend things they hold dear. ~Dale Evans In a 1980s commercial for Pace Picante sauce, several hungry cowboys threatened to string up the cook for brandishing a foreign-made (translation: not made in Texas) salsa.  “Why, this here salsa is made in New York City!”  “New York City?  Gil a rope!” With such a xenophobic attitude about New York City, you would think those cowboys would have raised a ruckus when a restaurant named the Cowgirl Hall of Fame launched in New York City.  “New York…