Stuffed Lust Sopaipilla Company – Bernalillo, New Mexico

Sopaipilla Lust, Exploiting the Deliciousness and Versatility of the Humble Sopaipilla

Of the seven deadly sins, lust is definitely the pick of the litter.”
~Tom Robbins, Skinny Legs and All

Why,” my Kim wondered aloud “would a food truck call itself Sopaipilla Lust.” Obviously reflecting on one of Father Simeon’s fiery sermons on the seven deadly sins, my naive bride was serious.  It got me thinking…also out loud.  “Sopaipilla Gluttony would conjure images of buffet-goers gorging themselves from a trough.  Sopaipilla Greed calls to mind diners hoarding more sopaipillas than they could possibly eat.  You can’t call it Sopaipilla Anger because, well, who could possibly be angry when eating sopaipillasSopaipilla SlothNah, no one would be too lazy to work for their daily bread…er, sopaipilla.

Sopaipilla Envy?  Well, maybe that would work.  Many a time have I envied diners at another table for whom a stuffed sopaipilla plate was being delivered.  Sopaipilla Pride?  That might work, too.  A food truck or restaurant excelling in the preparation of outstanding sopaipillas would have reason to be proud of their culinary fare.  Lust, of course, is the carnal craving for the pleasures of the flesh and few things are as pleasurable as eating stuffed sopaipillas.  As you can see, “Sopaipilla Lust” makes the most sense.”    As always, my long-suffering Kim got more than she bargained for.

The Archie Bunker

Lust, a theological scholar might argue, goes beyond just badly wanting something. Lust is more primal, more intense, more all-consuming. It’s an obsession, an animal longing and (fittingly) a hunger.  At what point then does mere coveting become carnal lust? For us, it was knowing that in order to sate our craving for stuffed sopaipillas from Sopaipilla Lust, we’d have to drive halfway through Corrales, the picturesque village that’s home to the slowest drivers in New Mexico. Sure enough, the vehicle in front of us was a farm tractor, the driver of which was visibly frustrated because he couldn’t get around the car in front of him going 15mph on a 25mph zone.

Sopaipilla lust is prominent in Taos county where I grew up.  During the nearly three decades in which legendary food columnist Fayne Lutz published recipes in The Taos News, the recipe most in demand was–by far–for the Northern New Mexican staple, the sopaipilla.  Denizens of Taos county lustily devour these deep-fried pillows which we used to sop up our chile, frijoles, chicos and posole like the fluffy, crusty bread scoops they are.  We didn’t always have the patience to stuff our sopaipillas like the restaurants did.  That takes time and when you’re hungry, who wants to wait.

The Heisenburg with Pasta Salad

Growing up in Chilili, Julia Cox learned to cook New Mexican cuisine at the apron strings of her grandmothers, both of whom were scratch cooks who never wrote down their recipes.  Julia herself experimented with “a little of this and a little of that” before coming up with a sopaipilla dough recipe that won over her own family.  Her sopaipillas were a huge hit with the carry out and kitchen operations she ran before retiring.  Her children decided Julia’s sopaipillas should be shared with the world.  In October, 2018, they launched Stuffed Lust, their goal to present diners with delicious chef-inspired recipes all stuffed into their mom’s amazing sopaipillas.  We first encountered Stuffed Lust at the Ex Novo Brewing Company in Corrales. 

Your first utterance at perusing the Stuffed Lust menu will probably be something like “these aren’t my mom’s stuffed sopaipillas.”   Beyond beans, chile and meat, most of New Mexico’s abuelitas didn’t stuff sopaipillas with anything but love.  Stuffed Lust’s avant-garde approach to stuffed sopaipillas brings them into the 21st Century.  Traditionalists might scratch their heads, maybe even take offense, but it’ll take only a couple of bites to win them over.  Aside from the unorthodox mishmash of ingredient combinations with which the sopaipillas are stuffed, some are christened with names more apropos for an Italian restaurant: Gambino and Original Gangster, for example.  Others are named for New Mexico landmarks and places: Chimayo, Cabezon, Taos (tostadas) and yes, Heisenberg. Not all of them are graced with chile.

Peaches and Cream

Who can ever forget Archie Bunker’s description of his son-in-law Mike: “”Meathead, Dead from the Neck Up.”  Whether by design or by accident, Stuffed Lust named its limited quantity green chile stuffed sopaipilla Archie Bunker.  In addition to the green chile meatloaf, the sopaipilla is engorged with bacon, caramelized onions and Hatch red chile BBQ sauce then drizzled with red chile aioli with a side of hash browns.  The crescent moon shaped sopaipilla is unlike any stuffed sopaipilla we’d ever seen.  Most stuffed sopaipillas are covered in melted cheese and chile.  They’re typically unkempt and frumpy, beautiful only to the hungry diner.  The Archie Bunker presents more like a work of art.

It tastes like edible art, too, a melange of delicious ingredients that work very well together.  Made on the premises and plated (albeit on Styrofoam boxes) piping hot, the sopaipilla is a perfect canvas for one of the most unique stuffed sopaipillas imaginable.  The green chile meatloaf is moist and though the green chile is only mild at best, it’s got a nice roasted flavor that  shines through.  The Hatch red chile BBQ sauce and red chile aioli aren’t especially piquant either, but boy are they good.  Crispy hash browns make a surprisingly good complement to the stuffed sopaipilla as does a small (maybe a tablespoon) portion of sweet corn pudding (one of my guilty pleasures).

La Bonita

My Kim’s choice could only be described as slightly more traditional than mine though it could be argued that the name Heisenberg has done as much recently for New Mexico tourism as some of our historical and topographical landmarks.  It could also be argued that  the Heisenberg (sopaipilla stuffed with thin sliced sirloin, house seasoned mushrooms, peppers and onions, tortilla strips and house made cheese sauce all topped with  red and green chile aioli served with beans and rice) is addictive as some of the cocktails a certain chemistry teacher concocted in a beige 1986 Fleetwood Bounder recreation vehicle and motor home. 

As diverse and delicious as stuffed sopaipillas have proven to be, as vehicles for desserts they’re vastly underutilized.  Not so at Stuffed Lust where postprandial sopaipillas extend beyond the traditional sopaipilla served with honey.  Stuffed Lust has one of those, too, calling it the Han Solo and dusting it with powdered sugar.  Since your main course will probably be non-traditional, you my as well enjoy a non-traditional dessert sopaipilla.  Make it Peaches And Cream (sopaipilla stuffed with slow-cooked natural peaches and a blend of spices layered with vanilla whipped cream topped with house made caramel then dusted with angel’s dust).  Reminiscent of peach pie, this is a sopaipilla self-actualized, a dessert you’ll love.

Even better, if that’s possible, is La Bonita (a sopaipilla stuffed with fresh strawberries, blueberries and whipped cream, drizzled with berry coulis topped with lavender cookie crumble), a soiree of sweet and tart flavors that truly earns its name.  Each component in a collage of concordant ingredients would be thoroughly enjoyable on its own, especially the lavender cookie crumble and whipped cream.  The fresh strawberries and blueberries provided just enough tartness to serve as a foil to the sweet ingredients.  Then there was the sopaipilla, a magnificent exemplar of what our state legislature should designate New Mexico’s official state bread.

A Hainesville, Illinois Yelper wrote “I follow Stuffed Lust on Facebook and Instagram and every single time a picture of their stuffed sopapillas show up in my feed my mouth waters and I wish I could have one!”  That’s lust!  You might find yourself with a similar case of lust when you experience these unique and uniquely delicious stuffed sopaipillas.

Stuffed Lust Sopaipilla Company
Location Varies
Bernalillo, New Mexico
505-410-1451
Website | Facebook Page
LATEST VISIT: 14 August 2020
# OF VISITS: 1
RATING: N/R
COST: $$
BEST BET: The Archie Bunker, The Heisenburg, Peaches & Cream, La Bonita
REVIEW #1175

About Gil Garduno

Since 2008, the tagline on Gil’s Thrilling (And Filling) Blog has invited you to “Follow the Culinary Ruminations of New Mexico’s Sesquipedalian Sybarite.” To date, more than 1 million visitors have trusted (or at least visited) my recommendations on nearly 1,200 restaurant reviews. Please take a few minutes to tell me what you think. Whether you agree or disagree with me, I'd love to hear about it.

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26 Comments on “Stuffed Lust Sopaipilla Company – Bernalillo, New Mexico”

  1. Becky, thanks for the follow up. It does appear from foraging articles on the internet that the definition of a chimi is “deep fried burrito.” Not frying it makes it a “wet burrito,” as you say. I have never been to Cecilia’s Cafe but plan on a visit soon to try Gil’s “wet burrito.”

  2. I just googled “lust” and none of the images that came up showed soapapillas.
    They showed scantily-clad women but, interestingly, no scantily-clad men.
    Is this gender politics at work? Have women co-opted the noun “lust”?

    According to Wiki definition of lust: “Lust is a psychological force producing intense desire for an object, or circumstance fulfilling the emotion while already having a significant other or amount of the desired object. Lust can take any form such as the lust for sexuality (see libido), love, money, or power. It can take such mundane forms as the lust for food (see gluttony) as distinct from the need for food.”

    Food is a “mundane form” of lust? I think not. These pictures of stuffed soapapillas are prove positive that lust doesn’t not have to be “scantily-clad.”

    1. It’s precisely because none of those sumptuous sopaipillas are scantily-clad that they trigger unbridled lust among diners. The sopiapillas are the antithesis of the scantily-clad ecdysiasts depicted in your searches in that diners implore “put it on, put it on.”

  3. I’ve been making a dessert soapapilla for many years. Its a cheesecake soapapilla, using cinnamon for the non traditional seasoning honey of course drizzled over it!! Delish!! I use store bought puff pastry, works fine 🤗

  4. Hi Gil:

    I was very pleased to see your tribute to Fayne Lutz – I was fortunate enough to be acquainted with her, and she was the best source ever on the cooking of Northern New Mexico. I always loved speaking with Fayne as she could not only fulfill a recipe request but she’d provide a detailed provenance of the dish as well.

    For anyone who might be interested, many of her recipes, including sopaipillas, can be found here: https://taostable.wordpress.com/

    1. Hi Becky, interesting that there exists a “traditional Taos table.” I just returned from three days in New Mexico high country (Taos County) staying in a lovely valley named Valle Escondido. We cooked most of our meals on a BBQ below crisp high-altitude night skies (Ponderosa Pine makes the best firewood for cooking). But I did have to stop in for lunch at my favorite Taos culinary destination: Orlando’s. Have you been there?

      1. Hi Tom:

        It sounds like you had a great trip to Valle Escondido. The cooler temps of the high country must have been a welcome break from this summer’s heat.

        A “traditional Taos table” basically includes the foods of Northern New Mexico – much of what we discussed a few months ago when comparing Southern New Mexico and Northern New Mexico cuisine.

        Unfortunately, I’ve never been to Orlando’s. I checked Gil’s entries and I see he gave it a pretty good review back in 2012. I wanted to check out their menu but the link on the review goes to a Taos real estate broker. I finally found a menu for this “Northern New Mexico Cafe” and got a good laugh when I saw that they proudly serve chimichangas which you and Gil have consistently denigrated as some kind of Arizona abomination – as in “Arizona??? Git a rope!” As an aside, I see they’re also listed on the menu of Cazuela’s New Mexican Grill just reviewed by Gil yesterday. After suffering a certain amount of chimi abuse from you guys, seeing their inclusion on the menus of self proclaimed “New Mexican” restaurants is like somebody just handed me the Christmas rabbit.

        1. Erratum: Cazuela’s is a “Mexican Grill & Brewery” not a “self-claimed New Mexican restaurant. ”

          Accordingly, if chimichangas migrated north from Mexico to Arizona (the widely-accepted origination story) we can exempt a “Mexican specialties” restaurant located in New Mexico from culinary persecution.

          Separately, I ordered what I always order at Orlando’s: the combination plate: One rolled (not stacked!) cheese enchilada, one soft-shell taco (beef: not shredded but chunky!), and a choice of tamale or chili relleno). The latter choice is no choice at all for me as I always order both.

          Interestingly, all dishes are served with posole. This is an uncommon occurrence in New Mexico or Mexican restaurants in New Mexico. Many see posole as a “festive dish” serving it only around Christmas. The pueblo Indians saw it differently: posole gave them the starchy strength year-around to build civilizations along the Rio Grande.

          But there is no excuse for Orlando’s, a “Northern New Mexico Cafe,” featuring chimichangas on its menu. Gil and I will discuss and get back to you on a recommended course of action.

          1. LOL! This is great – talk about poking the bear into a spirited exchange.

            So OK, I acknowledge my error – it is Cazuela’s Mexican Grill and Brewery – located in New Mexico where, I’ve been led to believe, discriminating folks aren’t inclined to eat chimis. I’m well aware of the theory that they originated in the Mexican State of Sonora, land of the wheat / flour tortilla, but there is an opposing theory that one or another Arizona eatery actually created the chimichanga. With the provenance unclear, I agree that it might be unfair to “persecute” Cazuela’s but I tell you, Sir, that perhaps they should be mildly sanctioned for featuring a dish with such a questionable pedigree. And I most certainly look forward to hearing further from you and Gil regarding any planned course of action with Orlando’s.

            With that said, I totally approve of your choice of the combination plate at Orlando’s. I always prefer a rolled enchilada and as for the shredded beef, for me it’s a requirement in beef tacos, enchiladas, burritos, or chimichangas. I might have preferred a crispy shell taco but I wouldn’t kick the soft shell version off my plate. I’m not a huge fan of posole but I assume Orlando’s serves it because it’s popular. Apparently popularity accounts for that renegade chimichanga, too. 

            1. Looking back at my reviews over the past two years, I’ve praised and lauded every chimichanga I’ve had in restaurants throughout the Land of Enchantment. It finally dawned on me (a reflection of my Homer Simpson-like denseness) that it’s not chimichangas I dislike. It’s how they’re prepared in Arizona. I’ve even had one at El Charro, the Tucson restaurant which claims to have invented the chimichanga and didn’t think enough of it to write about it.

              In my last trip to Phoenix for Intel, a New Mexico delegation was feted with Arizona-style Mexican food at a restaurant called Macayo’s. New Mexicans attempted to choke down chimichangas so as not to embarrass our Arizona hosts, but privately we began referring to Macayo’s as “Mocoso’s,” a term which politely translates to “Snot-Nosed.”

              1. This is interesting, indeed, Gil. You don’t have a problem with chimichangas as a dish, just chimichangas prepared in Arizona. I don’t have enough experience to way in on the topic. Maybe Becky can comment and clarify?

              2. It stands to reason that a chimichanga prepared with New Mexico’s incomparable red and (or) green chile would be far superior to whatever is passed off as “chile” in Arizona. You can’t find anything in Arizona comparable to Cecilia’s carne adovada chimichanga covered in red.

              3. SIGH….. Gil, I hope your comment about your credibility being questioned under another thread did not include me and this discussion. I may be piling on the years but I’m not yet senile, and our ongoing (never-ending) debate about chimichangas has been largely based upon preparation – you don’t like the fact that they’re deep-fried and crispy and that’s exactly what I like about them. (That’s not to say I don’t also enjoy burritos “wet” or “dry”.) And for the record, let’s just say that I understand your general loathing of Arizona’s version of Mexican  / Southwestern food which is credited in large part to your preference for, and loyalty to, New Mexican versions which is totally understandable. It’s like telling me that Chicago deep dish pizza is as good or better than New York pizza. So let me refer you back to the verbiage in the link you kindly provided:

                “Over the years my dear friend Becky Mercuri and I have debated the fine points of chimichangas with me taking a contrarian view and her professing a deep, abiding love for these “deep-fried burritos.”  Though she’s never outright accused me of it, I suspect she believes my low opinion is at least partially based on the fact that the humble chimichanga was invented in Arizona.  If indeed she has that belief, she may be right, but readers have to admit there just aren’t many good chimichangas in the Land of Enchantment (and if there are, why haven’t you told me about them?). 

                Cecilia’s chimichanga has made a believer out of me. It also helped me realize that one of the things I’ve most disliked about chimichangas is that they’re almost always deep-fried to the point that the tortilla resembles an egg roll wrapper. Yeah, crispy, crunchy and brown. Not so at Cecilia’s where the tortilla is still very much a tortilla with its blanket softness just a fork press away. That means the carne adovada stays tender, moist and incomparably delicious. Red chile is the best (make that the ONLY) chile for this chimi.”

                By definition, a chimichanga is a deep-fried burrito – regardless of the filling. Cecelia’s chimi looks delicious but according to your description above and the photo provided, it looks like a wet burrito. So what am I missing here? How can it be called a chimichanga if it’s not deep-fried and crispy? Maybe chimis need to be classified and described as “Arizona style” or “New Mexico style”? Would that refinement bring this debate to a close? 

              4. Oh, absolutely not. Even if I were to pose a specious and illogical argument, you would point out the error of my ways with kindness and respect. That’s what friends do.

                Your assessment of New Mexico style and Arizona style chimichangas seems to have merit. I can’t remember the last time I had a chimichanga in New Mexico with an “egg roll” texture. Maybe my fellow culinary researchers Captain Tuttle, Sarita or Verdadero can point me toward a deep-fried chimichanga that’s crispy, crunchy and brown so I can determine if New Mexico’s fabled red and green chile can make even deep-fried tortillas delicious for me.

                Even with the textural liberties New Mexican restaurants seem to take, Arizona “chile” would prove the ruination of any chimichanga. That stuff should be hauled away to the WIPP (Waste Isolation Pilot Plant).

              5. Not sure if I’ll be much help here, Gil, as it has been *years* since I last had a chimichanga. I did go through a phase when I ordered them pretty regularly. Whether my palate became more refined or I simply moved on to other items on the menu I’ll leave up for debate. 😆

                I do remember one place where I often ordered them was Casa de Benavidez. I don’t recall them having an egg roll-like texture, but I don’t think that would’ve bothered me, especially if the filling inside didn’t get overcooked, which I don’t recall happening. They came smothered with CDB’s chile, so I was a happy camper.

              6. Yo Sarita, RE saying: “Whether my palate became more refined….”! Oh Pshaw! Only as comparable to having the Henry IVth at Olde Town’s Antiquity would I make such a statement! LOL But then, I’d be comparing Maraschino Cherries to Bananas Foster!!! My Op is that for some of us, our ‘palates’ do tire out and do well with a pause. “Similarly, as a kid I couldn’t ‘stand’ sauerkraut, but now in adult years have enjoyed it with the ‘Polish Sandwich’ at…shh, Der Wienerschnitzel..or anyone’s Reuben for which the cole slaw/coleslaw substitute should be outlawed. 
                Alas, t’was after about 1/2 doz years eating New Mexican cuisine that I came upon my first Chimi at—The Cooperage (may it RIP) of all places…my reaction was akin to this https://tinyurl.com/y4kmll8g  In terms of today’s trending sexual egality https://media0.giphy.com/media/l0HlADMS95lBYXUl2/source.gif  Indeed! a Wow Experience! The Cooperage’s presentation was with…what seemed also unique at the time…a dollop of sour cream and guac atop the gently browned/crispy roll. Muy Sabrosa! for even the eyes. Weird that I chose Green as was set as an aside. 
                As it too has been a while since my last of many stops at Casa de Benavidez with it’s tropic-like patio rivaling that of El Pinto’s Fiesta Patio, same goes for CdB’s to-die-for Stuffed Sopaipilla which I’d recommend with its bestly sized/crisped Chicharrones con beans, extra onions con Red, either inside or out-the-back door where it was <6 bucks a bit ago.
                Indeed while different, I've had enjoyable Chimi's in the lounge part of The Fiesta and psst at Garduno's which lures a visit per the uncommonly served dollop of corn cake.

  5. There are, as you noted, seven deadly sins. Each has been observed as brain patterns using fMRI. Each show different patters. However, lust (a form of expectation) is remarkably similar to virtue, a form of actually doing something. Both light upmost of the brain with bright colors. Virtue can be complicated or as simple of preventing a delicious soap from going to waste.

  6. Hi Mr. Garduno,

    I am a huge fan of your blog and subscribe to your review emails. I thought I should point out something you might want to correct about your Stuffed Lust Sopaipilla Co. review. This is from that review in your description of the La Bonita: “…a sweet soiree of sweet and fart flavors…”

    You are obviously a very good writer and take care with your postings. I figured you would want to fix this wee typo…

    Happy dining trails!

    1. Hi Debra

      Oh, my gosh! Thank you for pointing out my error. I’ve made the necessary correction.

      And thank you very much for the kind words. I hope we hear from you more often.

      Best,

      Gil

      1. Are you really going to pretend that you did not intend to write fart instead of tart? We all know you write what you mean and you mean what you write. I think someone finally called you on it, and you decided to “play it off” as a typo, or Freudian slip, or whatever… 🙂

        Those sweet sopaipillas look awesome…even if they do give one uncontrollable gas…

        1. I’ve been saying for a long time that I need a prufe reeder. After my definitely-not-deliberate misspelling of tart was brought to my attention, I painstakingly reread every word on my review of Stuffed Lust and found that instead of “peach pie,” I typed “peace pie.” Who knows what other malapropisms exist on the blog.

    1. After seeing The Dude, our debonair dachshund walk up to Stuffed Lust last Friday, the young lady who served us told us about her own four dachshunds. I hope that makes dachshunds the official dog of Stuffed lust.

      Thank you for a very memorable meal.

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