In 1960, Albuquerque's
population reached 201,189, more than doubling the city's tally from the
1950 census. The start of a new decade began an era of expansion,
a construction boom in which the burgeoning city began experiencing
unprecedented growth. A proliferation of shopping centers was
built to serve new neighborhoods.
Albuquerque was not yet overrun
by horrendous, copycat chain restaurants; family owned and operated
mom-and-pop dining establishments--like the K&I Diner--were (and still
are) your best bet for a great meal.
1960 (March 2nd to be
exact) was also the year
in which Irene Warner
opened Grandma's K&I Diner (named for her daughter Kay Hess and
herself) in the heart of Albuquerque's industrial district in the far South Valley. She ran the eatery
with her family for 39 years until her death at age 82 in 1999.
The matronly Irene was a fixture at her restaurant, a kind and gentle
woman who made everyone welcome at her restaurant home. With a
pronounced Southern drawl, she and her family kept things lively, often
addressing their faithful patrons by "honey" or "sugar."
The restaurant
underwent several ownership changes after Grandma Warner passed away.
In 2003, this long-time staple of great home cooking and prolific
portions, was bought by Steve and Theresa Payne who, aside from giving
the restaurant some polish and veneer, pretty much left everything the
same. For that Albuquerque diners are grateful.
The decor features
antique brickerbrack donated by customers. Old stoves, a Pepsi
dispenser (from back when a bottle of cold Pepsi cost ten cents),
tube-operated radios and more eye-catching antiques will keep your
interest while some placards may surprise you at how ribald humor was
fifty or sixty years ago. One placard reads "big busted women
float better."
Ask anyone who's been
in Albuquerque for a few years and they can all recount their favorite
memories of dining at the K&I. Most of them probably involve the
"Travis," a bean and seasoned beef burrito topped with cheese
and chile then piled high with French fries. It's an unlikely
combination, but also a uniquely New Mexican one.
The Travis is available in five sizes, the descriptions below of which
are taken from the menu:
Travis On A
Silver Platter - You'd better bring lots of friends to attempt
this. Of course, if you can eat it by yourself in an hour or
less and we mean ALL of it, it's free.
Full Travis
- Even the biggest of appetites would have a hard time finishing
this one.
Half Travis
- It can be done, but you'd better be happy. Note: check out
the photo of the Half Travis on the left.
Quarter Travis
- This is the most popular size (pictured below), but some still need a to-go box.
Wimp Travis
- For those who just don't feel up to the challenge.
The plate on which the full Travis is served is big enough for the
Thanksgiving turkey. A Wimp Travis is big enough for most
people.
My own personal
memories of the K&I Diner also involve the Travis. While stationed
at Kirtland in the early 1980s, we used to take the dreaded Inspector
General (IG) staff to the K&I and challenge them to finish a full
Travis. Our hopes were that the IG staffers would get so full that
drowsiness would set in after lunch and they wouldn't be quite as
nit-picky in their assessments. This usually worked with new
staffers, but veteran IG members ultimately figured out our ploy.
Still, they all enjoyed the K&I Diner as much as we did and made it a
regular stop during their inspection tours of Kirtland.
Today, Air Force
personnel (and no doubt, the infamous IG) still frequent the K&I Diner
which despite four separate dining areas is usually packed for both
breakfast and lunch. Newcomers with the gumption to try still
think they have the mettle to consume an entire Travis, but invariably
fail miserably (coincidentally miserable is the gastronomic state of
anyone who succeeds).
Elise Hunnicutt, a Del Norte High
graduate now residing in deepest, darkest Westchester,
New York shares one of her favorite K&I and Travis memories from the
winter of 1982.
"The K&I was a
favorite lunchtime stop for me when I worked for the Pepsi bottler in
Albuquerque. I took two co-workers there one chilly day and instructed
them on the fine points of ordering the Travis special. At the time,
you didn't use the word "Travis" when ordering, instead just proclaiming
"Quarter" or "Half!" Your waitress would then call out the orders to
the guys doing the cooking behind the counter. On this particular trip,
I ordered my usual quarter. The first of my colleagues, obviously not
embracing my guidance, slammed his fist on the table and demanded a
Half. My other companion had no interest in the Travis and asked
instead for a cheeseburger. Our waitress turned quickly toward the
kitchen and said, "Quarter and a Half! And would someone please go down
to Blake's and get this idiot a cheeseburger?"
My
friend Bill Resnik recalls the time he goaded a "Travis virgin" into
ordering a full Travis. The behemoth platter arrived minutes later
with a Dum Dum sucker on top. The acid tongue (but with a heart of
gold) waitress presented it with "here you go, sucker!"
The days of verbal
jousting with the waitresses are long past and some of the restaurant's
personality left with Irene's family and staff, but the K&I is and
always will be, a memorable restaurant.
Several local
restaurants (Hurricane's and Twisters come to mind) have attempted to
duplicate the Travis and while some claim the pretenders are just as
good, K&I veterans will vehemently defend the Travis as an incomparable
original. In 1980, the Travis was trademarked, but that hasn't
stopped the pretenders.
According to local legend, the Travis was born when a
frequent visitor (in true Western fashion, embellishments say it was a
mysterious stranger) to the K&I asked for a burrito with everything on
it but the kitchen sink. That's what he got!
The K&I Diner serves
more than the Travis. Breakfast and lunch portions can best be
described as "heaping" with daily specials available every day of the
week. Over the years, the diner has added several other unique
entrees in which piles of French fries are the topper, but none have
approached the legendary status of the Travis.
"Bert's Mess" is a pile
of hot, crisp French fries topped with chunks of ham, bacon and sausage
then smothered with red or green chile and topped with two eggs, any
style. The "Leo," ostensibly named for another
loyal customer is a
plate piled high with French fries and topped with seasoned beef, cheese
and your choice of red or green chile.
If you're a pancake
aficionado, you've got to try the K&I's version of a tall stack.
It's just one solitary pancake, but it's the size of the tires on a
semi-truck (see photo at left). A family of six might not be able
to finish this golden orb.
For more than 45 years,
the K&I Diner's formula of atmosphere, quick and friendly service and
hearty portions has proven successful. It has stood the test of
time and is an American classic in the finest sense.
Pancake and "Leo" photos courtesy
of Bill "Roastmaster"
Resnik. Additional photos of nonconformity at K&I Diner below:
