Chile Nights in New Mexico: Taos

The town plaza in Taos is approximately one half the size of the plaza in Santa Fe. Consequently, the blog about food in Taos will be about one half the size of the blogs about Santa Fe. Symmetry like that is the hallmark of high literature. I'm just saying.



The Monday night we drove into Taos was chilly and clear. We were staying with Marina's mother's ex-husband Jeff, who drove us in to the downtown for dinner, where we went to the historic Taos Inn to dine at the Adobe Bar. It was a small room, white walls and timbered-ceilings, just off the lobby of the Inn. We arrived before the start of an open-mike night, so we got a table easily.

It was good, trusty bar food. I had the burrito with chicken, because it was New Mexico. To drink, I had a beer. Obviously.

While I can't say it was the best I've ever had, that is not to say I didn't enjoy it. The simplicity of a burrito makes it wonderful. You know what to expect. It's like fast food in that consistency, yet still being actual food--and yes, I support the ban on toys in Happy Meals in San Francisco (note the ban only applies to Happy Meals that don't feature fruits and vegetables, which is not too much to ask). McDonalds is not food. McDonalds is inane and stupid cultural drivel that makes us fat and unhealthy.

Plus, a burrito is just so nicely contained. It's like a sandwich, but without a crust.

A burrito and beer in New Mexico on a Monday night. It just fits.

And on the Tuesday morning of our departure, I took a stand. I had been avoiding all the traditional traveling favorites of mine this whole trip in favor of what seemed more authentically New Mexican. On Tuesday morning, I said, "Let there be french toast," and there was french toast, Cinnamon Swirl French Toast, and it was really, really good.



As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words, so I will leave it on that note, a picture of perfectly delightful french toast on a Tuesday morning. Marina and I were eating with a charming woman named Jimmy, an old friend of Marina's mom, and the three of us had Doc Martin's restaurant--back at the Taos Inn--pretty much all to ourselves. It was a cold but sunny morning that seemed to epitomize New Mexico for me, stark blue sky above sandy adobe walls.

I had coffee, of course.