Santa Fe museums

Compared to the real thing ...

It's all about the food

A large part of this will have to be word pictures, but the ending should make up for it.

We began our New Mexican food journey at Hollar in Madrid (that's "mad rid," not the Spanish city). Our next door neighbors in Texas called to tell us about this tiny little gem of a town last week after they had stopped there on the way to somewhere else ... a good call. Madrid started out as a coal mining town, but the abandoned company cabins are now occupied by 350 artists. 

And even though the new cook in the kitchen at the Hollar was a bit slow getting out the food, the salads (fried green tomato and fried chicken) had beautiful greens and fruit, dressed with house made dressings and graced with thin ribbons of provolone. Yum!

We strolled around and met some of  the artists, including the elderly couple who first rescued the ghost town in the early 70s and a photographer who moonlights as a volunteer DJ at the new radio station.

Fortunately, we left room for dinner ... just a mile down the road from the Ravens Ridge B&B at a place called Harry's Roadhouse. Killer margaritas accompanied Don's blue corn turkey enchiladas, while I "mmmmm'd" my way through a tostada topped with grilled chicken, and finely chopped veggies, greens and guac ... basically the best taco salad ever. And I finally realized why ... the flour tortilla, cooked to a brown crisp, was made with lard. Mmmmmm indeed.

Breakfast the next morning was eaten with our hosts Phyllis and Judge .... and it's no wonder they get such high trip advisor ratings. Incredibly fresh fruit laid out on a plate like a work of art, fresh squeezed orange juice, lots of hot coffee and cream cheese stuffed French toast with orange sauce (much like my Friday night supper crepe sauce). All accompanied by some great conversation.

By the end of the meal, Phyllis was bringing out pieces of her pottery and telling me she's a quilter ... not to mention the paintings both she and Judge have hanging in the dining room and the incredible gardens and pond outside that they have created. We feel like we've known them forever ...

Anyway, it was no surprise when we were not particularly hungry at lunch time several hours later. Since we were headed to the Ghost Ranch for a tour of Georgia O'Keeffe's painting inspirations we decided to stop at Abiquiu Lake for an impromptu picnic of apples, granola bars and water.

And even though it was overcast, the still water reflected a warm palette of southwest color.

Tales of the tour will have to wait for another post, since the focus is on food. So after wandering through some places in Abiquiu and restocking our apple and water supply, we headed for El Rito.

Now Phyllis and Judge had warned us that El Faralito was kinda small and out of the way, but we had a very long half hour to ponder just how small as we stared at the unlit OPEN sign.

Not to mention the five or six abandoned buildings that surrounded it, although there was an impressive piece of assemblage art in front of one of them ...

Just as Don was about to give up, a little blue truck pulled up and two guys hopped out ... shortly followed by another truck and the lighting of the neon sign.

We were in! 

The eight tables quickly filled up and the younger of the two truck guys took our order (two ice teas and the Farolito Special) before heading back into the kitchen to cook.

The picture doesn't do it justice, but for $11 we each got a crispy taco, a beef enchilada, rice, beans, green chile relleno and sopapillas ... my new favorite food. It defies description, but I'm going to try making them someday!

No wonder there was an article on the wall from Gourmet magazine ... this place was the real deal!

We headed out just in time to see the sun drop into the clouds behind Georgia O'Keeffe's Pedernal ...

The bar has been set ...

P. S. Just found out that sopaipilla is derived from a word that means bread soaked in oil. Ha ... no wonder I liked it.