Until she retired in November, 2024, I referred to my friend Linda Johansen as the “doyenne of UNM IT.” Linda is such an absolutely brilliant technologist that you might believe her doctorate is in information systems but it’s actually in Psychology. It didn’t dawn on me until after our meal what Linda must have thought about my sinister answer to her word association question regarding the term “Smothered.” My association hearkened back to our previous shared meal when a high-pitched child’s ear-piercing screams made other diners cringe. I joked “Smothered” is what one elderly woman looked like she wanted to do to that child. Hmm, I must have been chaneling my inner Ted Bundy when coming up with that gem.
Linda’s association with the term Smothered was Waffle House’s “scathered, smothered and covered” hash browns. That’s hash browns “Smothered” in Grilled Onions and “Covered” with a Slice of Melted American Cheese.” That’s a Gil type answer if ever there was one. It’s certainly far more innocuous and humane than my answer. It was also much closer to what Smothered is all about. Smothered is a new concept from the good folks who brought us Bosque Brewing. The concept is aptly described in Smothered’s blog: “New Mexico deserves a brunch scene that’s as vibrant and exciting as the people who live here. We’re not just opening another restaurant – we’re building a place where people can come together, laugh, and enjoy amazing food in a fun, creative, and welcoming atmosphere.”
Brunch is the best of two worlds–not quite breakfast and not quite lunch, but the best of both. It’s a leisurely weekend repast which makes you feel you’re getting away with something, as if you’re defying your mom’s mandate not to have dessert before the main entree. The feeling that you’re getting away with something delightfully illicit is reenforced as you lap up mimosas and Bloody Marys as fast as the wait staff can bring them to you. Brunch even allows you to get away with laziness at least once a year when you have the excuse to drag mom to a restaurant where she and countless other moms can be pampered on their special day.
Americans have loved brunch since the 1930s when, according to culinary historians, passengers on transcontinental train rides would disembark in Chicago for a late morning meal in between trains. It wasn’t until after the second war to end all wars that brunch became popular on Sundays. Apparently the promises made in foxholes (where there are no atheists) were quickly forgotten because after World War II, there was a precipitous decline in the number of churchgoers across the fruited plain. Instead, Americans began to sleep in late on Sundays as they recovered from Saturday night hang-overs. After reading the funnies and lolling around the house for a while, they went out for brunch. All the cool people were doing it.
The term brunch, a portmanteau of “breakfast” and “lunch” is believed to have originated in Britain in the late 19th century. The phrase was coined in 1896 by Guy Beringer, in of all places, the long defunct Hunter’s Weekly. He exalted the concept of brunch because it allowed staying up later and getting drunker on Saturday night then not being expected to wake up early for breakfast. Alas, not everyone has a high opinion of brunch. In his terrific tome Kitchen Confidential, fellow sybarite Tony Bourdain blew the lid off brunch, explaining that “brunch menus are an open invitation to the cost-conscious chef, a dumping ground for the odd bits left over from Friday and Saturday nights” adding that “you can dress brunch up with all the focaccia, smoked salmon, and caviar in the world, but it’s still breakfast.”
Because Smothered doesn’t have a Friday and Saturday night menu, Bourdain’s notion is blown out of the water. Smothered is all brunch, all the time. It’s not a way to repurpose leftovers. The restaurant is open everyday from 8AM to 3PM. Best of all, it’s brunch with bold, creative twists. The operative word isn’t necessarily “Smothered” which might imply everything is covered in gravy or sauce. That’s not the case though some items are served with sauces, gravies, jams, butters and other delicious ameliorants. Smothered is located on Central Avenue, east of Old Town, in a space that formerly housed Vinaigrette, which in 2024 relocated to a nearby space.
Peruse the menu and you’ll quickly conclude that Smothered is something just a bit different. Sure it’s got some breakfast and brunch standards such as pancakes, waffles and French toast, but study the details and you’ll see they’re not accompanied by the usual syrupy suspects. Pancakes and waffles are served with a vanilla bourbon syrup while the French toast are offered with a bruleed sweet vanilla custard. The menu includes a section called “For The Table,” listing shareable biscuits and a flight of bacon. When Linda and I first pored over the menu (even as we were having brunch at another restaurant), we knew a visit to Smothered was inevitable. As America’s favorite everyman philosopher Homer Simpson once expressed so eloquently: “Mmm…bacon.”
Also on the menu is a section called “Toasts” which features a de rigueur avocado toast as well as caponata toast. Prominently arrayed in an orange background are what Smothered callss “The Classics.” Listed first (surprise, surprise) are biscuits and gravy. Every item in this menu section is prefaced with “Smothered” as in smothered duck tostada, smothered golden beet chilaquiles and a smothered breakfast burrito. If the menu didn’t have a breakfast burrito, it wouldn’t matter what else is on the menu. New Mexicans love breakfast burritos more than they do some relatives.
Americans have preconceived notions about biscuits. Having lived in the Deep South for eight years, our idea of biscuits is tall, fluffy, flaky and light buttermilk biscuits made with White Lily flour. It’s the the most iconic style in the South. Smothered describes its biscuits as “two freshly baked buttermilk biscuits served with whipped goat cheese, redberry rosemary jam and red chile honey butter.” Other than “buttermilk” that description didn’t include any of the adjectives I use to describe Southern biscuits. In fact, the biscuits had a unique (strange?) yellowish color with a texture more reminiscent of scones (crumbly and dry). That yellowish hue, we learned, is courtesy of butter…even more than Paula Deen uses. In the baking process the biscuits are practically immersed in butter which seeps all the way through. Though we didn’t leave a crumb behind, we would have preferred Southern biscuits especially considering the whipped goat cheese, redberry rosemary jam and red chile honey were all fabulous.
Smothered’s bacon flight offering brings to mind another Homer Simpson maxim: “Mmmm. Move over eggs. Bacon’s got a new best friend – fudge.” None of the six strips of bacon on the bacon flight included fudge, but hey, the restaurant’s new and maybe they’ll add fudge at some point (wishful thinking). The bacon flight included one of each bacon with habanero with a piloncillo glaze, vanilla bourbon glaze, chili crisp, Cajun dry rub, chile verde and pancake battered. You can’t accuse this flight of being a “one note” wonder, but four of the strips were defined by their piquancy while two were sweet. A ramekin of vanilla bourbon syrup accompanied the bacon, but we were slow to figure out we should have been applying that syrup to the pancake battered bacon. Linda and my Kim let me have the lion’s share of the piquant bacon. The flight wasn’t especially memorable save as a showcase for the potential of bacon to be exploited for its ability to pair well with other flavor notes.
On a day in which New Mexico’s winds would exceed the speed limit in many of the state’s highways, Linda was craving comfort food. Associated with hearty, satisfying meals that evoke feelings of warmth, nostalgia and home, chicken and waffles are–paired together or enjoyed separately–the ultimate comfort food. The Smothered chicken and waffles (two buttermilk waffles, harissa brined fried chicken, sunny side eggs, red chile honey butter, whipped goat cheese and vanilla bourbon syrup served with a kale salad and smashed saltwater new potatoes) certainly hit the spot. The fried chicken actually resembled a very thick slab of chicken fried chicken. I expected a bit more heat from the harissa brine which has a flavor somewhat similar to sriracha, but as fried chicken goes, this is a good one. On their own it’s probably impossible not to love waffles, but with the red chile honey butter and vanilla bourbon syrup, these waffles are in rarefied air. None of us touched the kale salad.
My Kim’s brunch choice was a buttermilk waffle (served with red chile honey butter, whipped goat cheese and vanilla bourbon syrup). Long-suffering (or completely oblivious) Marge Simpson isn’t quite the quotable personality her husband is. After all, she believes: “Sticking together is just what good waffles do.” Hmm, I don’t know anyone who would like their waffles to stick together–even after they’ve sat in syrup for a while. Smothered’s buttermilk waffles don’t stick to one another. They’re perfectly crisp and golden on the outside while being light and fluffy on the inside. Add the whipped goat cheese for a fantastic sweet-savory combination. Then there’s the vanilla bourbon syrup, a new favorite.
Leave it to your hedonistic gastronome to try something new and different. Yes, even at the expense of trying something I knew would be fabulous, I can’t resist trying something heretofore new to me. That’s both a boon and a bane. Smothered’s golden beet chilaquiles (house-pickled golden beets, sunnyside egg, fried 50/50 tortillas, smothered in strawberry and raspberry ranchero sauce topped with goat cheese and cilantro) is definitely in the “boon” category. In fact, you can put it in the “Wow!” category. It’s a surprisingly delicious dish. The “ranchero” sauce is both fruity and piquant, imparting both heat and sweet. With their characteristically earthy flavor and sweet notes, the golden beets were terrific. A plateful would have made me deliriously happy. Though the tortilla chips started out crispy, they became somewhat flaccid by meal’s end. That’s wholly expected and actually made it easier to pick them up with a fork.
Since Eater designated 2015 as “the year of the avocado toast,” “gourmet toast” has been in an ascendency that’s finally caught up with Albuquerque. It’s an idea whose time has come. No longer should diners be satisfied with a cold pat of butter or cream cheese on no personality bread that’s already cool by the time it gets to your table. Thus far, only the Curious Toast Cafe has given diners much versatile options for breakfast bread. Smothered’s “Toasts” menu lists only two options–the aforementioned avocado toast and caponata toast (thick-cut sourdough, roasted eggplant smothered in caponata sauce, burrata cheese, pistachios, balsamic glaze and honey drizzle with a side of kale salad and smashed saltwater new potatoes). Linda asked for a poached egg, too. There’s a lot going on with this sandwich, both from a diverse flavor standpoint and texturally. It’s one of those genius-made creations whose whole is even better than its individual components.
Brunch reimagined and chefs playing with your food. That’s Smothered, a concept whose time has definitely arrived. Should you ever be asked what you associate with “Smothered,” this Duke City restaurant will be first on your mind.
Smothered
1828 Central Avenue, S.W.
Albuquerque, New Mexico
(505) 835-5976
Website | Facebook Page
LATEST VISIT: 17 April 2025
# OF VISITS: 1
RATING: N/R
COST: $$
BEST BET: Caponata Toast, Smothered Golden Beet Chilaquiles, Buttermilk Waffle, Smothered Chicken and Waffles, A Flight of Bacon; Baked Buttermilk Biscuits With Whipped Goat Cheese, Redberry Rosemary Jam and Red Chile Honey Butter
REVIEW #1664
The best thing about smothered, based on our visit yesterday is the lovely patio. If you wish to have a conversation (rather than enjoy the buzz inside) definitely ask for outdoor seating. Our waiter was also very good, she worked hard to be sure our orders were served the way we wanted.
The worst thing was my breakfast burrito $13 with no meat. I added duck asada for $8 and found only a few paltry minced bits of it. The salsas were only so-so. Better burritos are available just about anywhere else for much less money.
Gil, smother is what you do with green chile on a Pueblo slopper. Pueblo green chile, of course.
Ah, yes. Thank you, my friend. I’m reminded it’s been too long since our last slopper at Gray’s Coors Tavern. My review of Gray’s nearly got my statehood revoked.