If you’re expecting something akin to Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory (maybe Guillermo Goloso’s Sopaipilla Factory), you’ll be disappointed. But, if you’re expecting solid New Mexican cuisine served by an accommodating waitstaff, the Sopaipilla Factory should meet your needs and quell your hunger. The Sopaipilla Factory sits squarely in the town of Pojoaque, but somehow has a Santa Fe address even though the City Different is eighteen miles away. That’s not because Pojoaque is a census-designated place (CDP) in Santa Fe county. It’s because because Pojoaque relies on a Santa Fe post office and ZIP code routing. Still, having a Santa Fe address could be confusing for prospective diners. NOTE: Gabriel’s of Santa Fe is in a similar situation. It has a Santa Fe address even though it’s fifteen miles from the state capital.
Make no mistake about it. You’re not going to find the Sopaipilla Factory in Santa Fe unless you search for it on the internet. The restaurant is situated just behind the Roxanne Swentzell Tower Gallery (which dammit has a Santa Fe address, too). Roxanne Swentzell, by the way, is a Native American clay and bronze sculptor and contemporary pueblo artist. A visit to her gallery is a must visit! If you can’t visit her gallery, the Sopaipilla Factory has one example of her work. It’s among several sculptures of the “Big Head” series meant to show the disjointedness of the modern world–people and groups becoming divided by different viewpoints.
The Sopaipilla Factory is a bit of a dichotomy (and not solely because of its physical and mailing addresses). Though it’s got a casual, homey, distinctly Northern New Mexican ambiance with New Mexican and Native American artwork and simple furnishings, you’ll also espy carved anthropomorphic bears (perhaps reflective of all the hungry bears wandering into towns and cities in record numbers across the Land of Enchantment because severe droughts have destroyed their natural food sources). You won’t find any real bears at the Sopaipilla Factory, but you will encounter hungry diners who have wandered into town (and not Santa Fe) for New Mexican food.
Now, about the name Sopaipilla Factory. You would certainly expect that a restaurant bearing the name of a food invented in New Mexico (sopapillas originated more than 200 years ago in the region that is now Albuquerque, drawing deep historical roots from Spanish and Moorish culinary traditions) would have a sopaipilla-centric menu. That’s not the case. Aside from a stuffed sopaipilla entree and sopaipillas as a side, sopaipillas are surprisingly absent from the menu. Nor did the Sopaipilla Factory land a spot on Eater’s feature on “Where to Eat Sopaipillas in New Mexico.”
The Sopaipilla Factory’s menu is very much like the menu at many a New Mexican restaurant in the Land of Enchantment…not that that’s a bad thing. It’s segmented into several sections: Appetizers, Soup and Salads, Sandwiches, Breakfast Served All Day, Specialties, Vegetarian Specialties, Traditional Plates, Sopaipilla Factory Meats (ribeyes, carne asada, fajitas and the like). If you’d like to sample a variety of New Mexican food, consider the “Big Combo” which includes a pork tamale, chile relleno and cheese enchilada with rice and whole beans and your choice of red (and) or green chile. The combo is garnished with lettuce and tomatoes.
Instead of our usual salsa and chips (which my chile-averse bride can’t enjoy), our appetizer selection was albondigas soup. Albondigas aren’t all that common on New Mexican menus. Maybe they should be. Originally a Spanish (and historically Moorish) concept that evolved into a traditional Mexican and regional New Mexican soup dish, albondigas are delicious when prepared right. The Sopaipilla Factory’s version of albondigas soup is excellent. It may have been the single best thing we had, in fact. In addition to eight well-seasoned, firm and delicious meatballs, the soup included corn, tomatoes and carrots. Crackers were provided but why desecrate a soup this good with crackers. The tomato-rich broth was superb–well seasoned with just a slight piquancy. The meatballs didn’t have much filler so they didn’t fall apart with the press of a fork. A dozen more would have made my day.
Explaining to our delightful server that we were visiting the Sopaipilla Factory for the first time, I asked which entree she would recommend–the stuffed sopaipillas or the enchiladas. She raved that they’re both excellent, but the enchiladas come with beans and rice while the stuffed sopaipilla does not. Enchiladas are available with shredded chicken, ground beef, shredded beef, cheese or shrimp with your choice of red (and) or green chile and the usual tomato and lettuce garnish. My choices were shredded beef, red and green chile (Christmas) and a fried egg over easy on top. Instead of rice, I got two portions of beans–both refried and whole. These enchiladas would have been outstanding had the chile been more piquant than the impotent monsoon season of 2026. The chile looked good just sitting atop the enchiladas, but had the bite of ketchup. What a pity considering the shredded beef was so well seasoned and everything else on the plate was quite good. Those beans, both refried and whole, were superb.
My Kim, whose retort when I tell her a New Mexican restaurant might have anything she can eat, is “there’s always something. At the Sopaipilla Factory, that something was an all-day breakfast offering called The Classic (two eggs any style, hash brown potatoes, ham (which was either Canadian bacon or the most waifish ham we’ve ever seen) and your choice of salsa or chile all served with a flour tortilla. I would almost hazard to say the Sopaipilla Factory’s chile is so mild, maybe even my Kim could have eaten it but she would probably have proven me wrong. At any regard, she enjoyed her 2PM breakfast and we still have some of the mountain of hash browns left.
With a name like Sopaipilla Factory, you would not only expect a sopaipilla-centric menu, but that the sopaipillas would be exemplars of fried dough fried into golden puffy pillows of deliciousness. Maybe the sopaipilla equivalent of Willie Wonka’s signature Wonka bar (with or without the golden ticket). The sopaipillas delivered to our table were more flat than puffy, more fitted sheet than pillow. Sure, we were able to find pockets in which we could deposit honey, but had to navigate around thin, crispy areas that didn’t lend themselves to serving as repositories of honey.
Maybe I’m getting too picky in my dotage (39 years old), but with a New Mexican restaurant bearing the name Sopaipilla Factory I expected both chile with a real bite and sopaipillas worthy of New Mexico state “official sopaipilla” distinction. We found neither, but I would go back for the albondigas soup.
Sopaipilla Factory Restaurant
7 West Gutierrez
Santa Fe, New Mexico
(505) 455-2855
Website | Facebook Page
LATEST VISIT: 25 August 2026
# OF VISITS: 1
RATING: N/R
COST: $$$
BEST BET: Shredded Beef Enchiladas, Albondigas Soup, The Classic, Sopaipillas
REVIEW #1547