A trip to Santa Fe is at once exhilarating and embarrassing. You say to yourself, “how can I be so corny and fall in love with the food, the shopping, the art, and the
physical beauty all over again?”. And yet, you do, embracing it all as
you roll your eyes at your own enthusiasm. The food, of course, is of
superior class with an emphasis on how we want to eat today: local and
seasonal. And each Santa Fe friend has their own passionate reason why
their favorite restaurant has the best green chili. But there is more
to the palette of Santa Fe food than traditional Northern New Mexico
cuisine, as good as that is. Here are a half dozen of my personal
favorites. One of the great things about them all is their unique
points of view on feeding you. Unique, like Santa Fe itself.
Travel
Travel
A Treasure in Barcelona
“This one, honey, this one looks good.” I said excitedly to Shannon on our first night in Barcelona. We were standing in front of a small, lofted restaurant with windowed walls, wood furniture and an elaborate artistic white chandelier.
We had been walking through the city for hours and wound up here in Barceloneta, a triangular neighborhood which jettisons out from Barcelona proper and is famous for gorgeous beaches and trendy restaurants. It was a clear spring evening following a warm eventful day and we were starving and exhausted.
I have a romantic notion about food while on vacation. I believe that the most incredible meals will be found in restaurants on curvy, dimly lit side streets, run by generations of ego-free chefs who just want to cook incredible food for their family and whoever might be brave or lost enough to stumble down their road. This theory gets me into a lot of trouble.
We had walked down many a crooked street that day to no avail. The restaurant we stood in front of that night, Lonja de Tapas, was clearly not the place in my fantasy (a lot of money had been put into the décor and it was very crowded), but low blood sugar was fueling my optimism and I bounded through the door.
Death Valley Days
Right up front let’s just say Death Valley is not a destination trip for foodies. Don’t fool yourself for a minute on that score. Death Valley is where you go to see extraordinary beauty, hike mind blowing rock formations, find God or ingest mushrooms (not particularly in that order), but one does not go for culinary arousal. Not that you can’t eat well and enjoy some surprisingly good meals but as my illustrious travel companion (i.e. foodie daughter) pointed out, that is because we weren’t expecting much.
Having said that, Death Valley is an absolute must see. Take it off your bucket list and move it straight to your “to-do” list. Now. The shame about Death Valley is its name. And the older one gets the less fun it is to say, “I’m going to Death Valley.” It was my daughter’s idea. At 63, I couldn’t bring myself to suggest it. Palm Springs was the closest I could come on my own. And we all know whose waiting room that place is!
My daughter, home from the east coast, freezing east coast, I should say, in between jobs and exploring her options (read sleeping & being fed by mom) could have proposed Bosnia as a mother/daughter road trip and I would have blurted my “Yes” out. Death Valley sounded perfect! For those who have never experienced a mother/daughter road trip, once the daughter half of the team is over 21, it is a wonderful thing! Totally different from those nightmare road trips back in the day when they were teenagers and being in the car with them for more than ten minutes gets ugly. A road trip? Only a total masochist on a pain run would attempt it.
Miracle on Abbot Kinney
There was a time when I CRAVED greens. I mean it. CRAVED ‘em. Lambs tongue (mache) arugula, romaine, and kale (which I would stem, blanche, squeeze dry and then sauté in olive oil and garlic). Evan Kleiman has a terrific soup recipe that uses escarole and you can find it in the archives right here at One for the Table.
I used to eat salads all the time and for the life of me I wish those days would come back. But, you know the old saying; “A pickle can never become a cucumber again.”
I’m convinced it’s the secret to staying slim, even if you use decadent dressings. Recently, I ate at Wabi Sabi on Abbot Kinney in Venice. They served an amazing salad there, which was actually a side to a scallop dish. It was a simple arugula with walnuts and goat cheese, but the dressing was completely unique. They were kind enough to give me the recipe.
Trying to Do the Right Thing in London
In our effort to downsize but continue to have fun, we scrambled
together all our frequent flyer miles and managed to put together two
return flights to London and Italy. Then, by making a small investment
on a home exchange site, we found a young woman in Prato (twenty
minutes from Florence), willing to do a non-simultaneous exchange with
our desert house in Joshua Tree.
Our first stop was London, where a kind friend loaned us her
house. Although I grew up in London I have not lived there in over 30
years. The minute I walked off the plane, I was surprised by the
intense 80-degree heat, a byproduct of global warming, and something I
had never encountered in my childhood, where you were lucky if it
reached the mid 70’s in the summer. After struggling with the new
monetary denominations and a new subway system, I began to feel like a
stranger in my hometown,
Yet, one area that has vastly improved since I lived in London is the food. But like everything else, it is very expensive. Fortunately, another ex-Brit friend had recently visited London and her sage advice was that bargains could be had at posh restaurants if you went at lunch, rather than dinner. Following her recommendation, backed up by “Time out”– still the best magazine to tell you what is going on in London – I made reservations at Gauthier, a French restaurant in Soho.
More Articles ...
Welcome to the new One for the Table ...
Our Home Page will be different each time you arrive.
We're sure you'll find something to pique your interest...