TFK Smokehouse & Art Barn – Albuquerque, New Mexico (CLOSED)

Every summer, a predictable ritual takes place. After hibernating comfortably since the previous autumn, men attired in aprons emblazoned with the slogan “kiss the cook” will selflessly volunteer to “cook” a meal. This, of course, means barbecue, a decidedly masculine affectation and the only type of cooking most men can be entrusted to do. When this ritual is completed and guests are sated, lavish praise and thanks are heaped upon the “chef.” In truth, the only aspects of this ritual for which men are typically responsible is getting the grill lit, placing the meats on the grill and turning them (after our female better halves warn us that the meats are burning). Normally all the preparatory work—buying the food; preparing…

Lindy’s Diner – Albuquerque, New Mexico

“Get your kicks on Route 66” is the mantra of nostalgic motorists who have lobbied for generations to preserve the heritage that is America’s “mother road”, the 2,448 mile highway commissioned in 1926 and decommissioned in 1985 and which traversed eight states between Chicago, Illinois and Santa Monica, California. Though Route 66 generally traces the state’s traditional east-west transportation corridor through the center of the state, its initial route when commissioned in 1926 resembled a giant S-shaped detour. It ran northwest from Santa Rosa to Santa Fe then south (through Bernalillo and Albuquerque) to Los Lunas. At that point, the road resumed its northwesterly route toward Laguna Pueblo, where it finally resumed its western direction. Route 66’s original Albuquerque route…

Counter Culture Cafe – Santa Fe, New Mexico

Counterculture. Growing up in rural Taos County four decades ago, I don’t know how many of us understood that the cultural and political upheaval of the big cities had moved into our isolated corner of the world. All we knew was that these unkempt and unwashed interlopers preaching free love and practicing it in communes had invaded our idyllic agrarian communities and shocked our quiet, small town sensibilities. They rode around in psychedelic school buses and wore multi-colored smocks. The men among them wore their hair as long as their women. More shocking was how these strangers walked around unabashedly nude in the confines of the communes they christened with such colorful names as the Hog Farm, New Buffalo and…

Marley’s Barbecue – Albuquerque, New Mexico (CLOSED)

“In Central Texas, Barbecue is more than a way to cook meat – it’s a way of life, a path to salvation, and a sure-fire way to start an argument at the dinner table.” ~Central Texas Barbecue Texans hold certain truths to be self-evident: everything is bigger (and better) in Texas, the Dallas Cowboys are America’s team (who can argue with that?), George Strait is the king of country music, Nolan Ryan was the greatest baseball pitcher who ever lived and the best barbecue in the universe is pit-smoked along the Central Texas Barbecue Belt. Although Texas may be “like a whole other country,” the rolling plains of Central Texas are like a whole other world when it comes to…

Papaburgers – Los Ranchos De Albuquerque, New Mexico (CLOSED)

Back in the 1960s, A&W’s Papa Burger was a rite of passage for me. By age nine, I had surmounted the phased progression through A&Ws burger family–Baby Burger, Mama Burger and Teen Burger–and was ready to prove my mettle with the largest of A&Ws burger family, one beefy behemoth only my dad, a paragon of masculinity, had ever ordered. Earning the right to order one was acknowledgement that I was growing into a man. Polishing one off brought newfound respect from my younger brothers, both of whom longed for the day my dad would order a Papa Burger for them. In the 1960s, A&W’s burger family signified a formidable line-up of burgers served in more than 2,000 A&W restaurants throughout…

TerraCotta Wine Bistro – Santa Fe, New Mexico

“Wine is constant proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.” ~Benjamin Franklin In the 1960s, denizens of the fruited plain weren’t nearly as savvy about the fruit of the vin as they are today. Impressionable youth who tuned in every Sunday for Championship Wrestling from Albuquerque’s Civic Auditorium, for example, had the impression from Roma Wine commercials that all wine was served in large jugs. It really wasn’t far from the truth. Back then, a significant portion of wine production across the fruited plain was indeed destined for a jug. Another high percentage of wine would earn the ignominious distinction of being called “bum wine.” Sporting such brand names as Thunderbird, Mad Dog 20/20 and Boone’s…

Boxing Bear Brewing Company – Albuquerque, New Mexico

In the 2008 Will Ferrell comedy Semi-Pro which centers on a fictional professional basketball team, there’s a scene in which Ferrell’s character wrestles with a grizzly bear at halftime of a game. While young viewers might find this scene preposterous, if not unbelievable, some of the more geriatrically advanced among us might remember when such promotions actually took place–usually at rural county fairs where members of the audience were offered money if they could last a few minutes with a wrestling or boxing bear. Bears who were forced into pugilism or grappling were typically de-clawed, de-fanged, fitted with a muzzle and often even drugged. Despite these disadvantages, the 600- to 800-pound Ursidae could easily defeat anyone who stood before them.…

The Teahouse – Santa Fe, New Mexico

When I suggested to my Kim that our next al-fresco culinary adventure with our dachshund Dude (he abides) should be at the Teahouse in Santa Fe, she shot a glance at me that seemed to suggest advanced mental deterioration had caught up with me. She reminded me that every time we had tea and scones on the banks of the River Windrush in Bourton on the Water (England), I guzzled my tea and tossed bits of my scones at hungry ducks floating on the water. “It was the only way,” I argued “to enjoy high tea without actually being high.” As with most men, the notion of high tea conjures images of women in frilly outfits and flowery hats sipping…

Kitchen Se7ven – Albuquerque, New Mexico (CLOSED)

During a 1996 episode of Seinfeld, George Costanza, a self-proclaimed “short, balding, unattractive man” made the mistake of telling his fiancee he wanted to name his child “Seven” after his idol Mickey Mantle. To George’s chagrin, his fiancee’s cousin liked the idea so much she decided to name her own child Seven. Even as the cousin was being wheeled by an orderly into the delivery room, George tried in vain to convince her to name the child something else. Six, Thirteen, Fourteen, even…Soda. “it’s bubbly, it’s refreshing!,” he cried. When Chef Akio told us of the birth of his son just a day before our inaugural visit, we had to ask him if he’d be naming his son “Seven.” Obviously…

Nob Hill Bar & Grill – Albuquerque, New Mexico (CLOSED)

There’s talk on the street, it’s there to remind you, it doesn’t really matter which side you’re on You’re walking away and they’re talking behind you They will never forget you ’til somebody new comes along – New Kid In Town: The Eagles As an independent observer of the New Mexico culinary experience, it’s always intrigued me just how fleeting and short-lived the popularity of new restaurants can be. Perhaps indicative of our human need for constant new sources of stimulation and gratification, diners (and restaurant critics) flock to new restaurants like moths to a flame. In our minds, new seems to translate to fresh and exciting. We seem drawn to the spit, polish and promise of new restaurants in…

Rock & Brews – Albuquerque, New Mexico (CLOSED)

“I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day.” ~Kiss For generations, American teenagers have undergone a rite of passage that has contributed greatly to their angst. That rite of passage is the ego-deflating criticism of the music they enjoy. Just as our parents hated the music we listened to, we hated the music our own children enjoy. It just seems ingrained in their DNA that parents will hate the music their children enjoy. Parental disapproval of their progeny’s choice in music probably achieved its heights (or low point) in the late ’50s when rock ’n’ roll was considered “the devil’s music” and Elvis’s gyrating pelvis was considered downright obscene. Music—whether it be punk rock, hardcore, rap, reggae…