Chile Today, Hot Tamale!

Hey folks, alright, let's talk about this fancy place down in Santa Fe called Geronimo. Now, you gotta understand, it's not named after the guy who yells when he jumps off a cliff. No, no, it’s named after the Apache leader, which makes you think, right? But hey, when you walk in, it’s all elegance and class, not exactly what you'd think of for a rugged guy like Geronimo, but what do I know?

So, you sit down in this old adobe mansion—yeah, it’s actually an adobe mansion, can you believe that? And the vibe, let me tell you, it's like if a cowboy suddenly got a taste for fine dining and decided, "Yeah, I'm gonna eat fancy tonight." It's got these white tablecloths, romantic lighting, and the whole shebang.

Now, the food—oh boy, the food—it’s what they call "global French Asian fusion." I'm not quite sure what that means, but it sounds like they just threw darts at a map and cooked whatever they hit. But I gotta admit, it’s delicious. They've got this elk tenderloin that’s so tender, it practically apologizes for being so tasty as you’re eating it. And they pair it with things like brandied cherries. I mean, who thinks of this stuff? Cherries that get a little boozy? Genius.

Well, folks, let me tell you about a little spot called The Shed in Santa Fe. It’s tucked away, like a secret, right in the heart of the historic district. You’d almost miss it if you weren’t looking, and let me tell you, you'd want to be looking.

So, you walk into The Shed, and right away you know it’s not your typical restaurant. It’s cozy, colorful, with this old-world charm that kinda makes you feel like you’re dining in a friend’s kitchen—if your friend happened to live in a rustic adobe building from 1692.

Now, the food, oh boy, the food! They serve up what they call "New Mexican cuisine." Not "new" as in "just invented", but as in "New Mexico", the state, you know. They're famous for their red and green chile, and you gotta make a decision there, it's kind of a big deal. They ask you if you want red or green chile, or you can get wild and say, "Christmas," which means both. And I'm thinking, what’s more festive than Christmas? Maybe actual Christmas, but it’s a close call.

I tried their blue corn enchiladas. Now, these are not your run-of-the-mill enchiladas. They're stacked, not rolled—kind of like how I prefer my cash, stacked, not rolled. And let me tell you, they put this chile on top that’s so good, it could make you weep. I didn't weep, you know, because I’m a tough guy, but I thought about it.

Ah, Sazón in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Now, here’s a place that’s kind of a big deal, and you know, when you hear folks talk about it, they get all serious, like they’re talking about the Sistine Chapel or something. But, you know, it’s a restaurant. A fancy one, though, not the kind where you can get a burger for a buck.

So, you walk in, and the place is just dripping with art, really colorful stuff that makes you feel like maybe you walked into a museum where they serve enchiladas. The whole vibe of the place is like, "Hey, we're not just here to eat; we're here to experience something." And, boy, do you experience your wallet getting lighter. But that's fine; it's all part of the experience, right?

Now, the chef, he's a real artist, I mean, not like Picasso or anything—his stuff you can actually recognize. He serves up these dishes that are so pretty, you almost feel bad eating them. Almost. The mole, I gotta say, it's like a velvet painting for your mouth. Rich, complex, and I'm pretty sure there are like, 20 ingredients in there, but who's counting?

They tell you about each dish like it's a story. And these stories are longer than the ones your Uncle Terry tells at Thanksgiving before he falls asleep in the chair. But you listen, because, heck, you're paying for the stories too.

Hey there, folks. Let me tell you about a little spot I stumbled upon down in Santa Fe, it's called Cafe Pasqual's. Now, this isn't your typical greasy spoon where you might expect a fella like me to dine—oh no. It’s one of those places that's got all the charm of a grandma’s kitchen, if your grandma was a whiz at whipping up organic dishes and loved vibrant Mexican tiles.

Now, Cafe Pasqual's, they pride themselves on using fresh, organic ingredients. Yeah, they're all about that farm-to-table stuff. It’s like, you're eating a tomato salad, and you might just suspect that the tomatoes were sunbathing out back a few minutes before they hit your plate. And let me tell you, the flavor – it really slaps you across the face. Kind of like how my uncle used to do, but a lot more pleasant, I assure you.

The place is always packed. It seems like it's the town’s worst-kept secret. You'd think with all that crowd, the service would be slow, right? But no, the staff there zip around like they’ve all downed a couple of espressos. They’re quick, attentive, and not in that annoying way where they try to be your best friend. No sir, just the right amount of friendly.