
I used to live in Albuquerque, where restaurants that in most places would fall into the category of “Mexican Food” instead served what was called “New Mexican Food.”
Tamales, enchiladas, stuffed sopaipillas, always drenched in red or green chile, smothered in cheese, nestled between heaps of beans and rice.
Mexican, New Mexican, whatever. I just called it mmm.
Shortly after moving there, however, I encountered an unusual fellow, a goateed man who had lived in New Orleans before settling down in the Land of Enchantment. He didn’t call the chile rellenos and burritos sold on nearly every block either Mexican or New Mexican.
He called all of it “cheesy glop.” He did not say “mmm.”
This is why I found him unusual.
By the end of my nearly six-year sojourn, though, I adopted it as my own his derogatory phrase, which was (understandably) borne out of a bias toward the foods of New Orleans.
Over and over again, a blanket of cheese, a sheet of chile, and all manner of meat and vegetable snug beneath the bubbling mantle. It got old.
But now, a decade later, I dream of steaming plates of cheesy glop, which is why I am happy about Alamos Verdes, a New Mexican-style place in Arvada that has been draping meat and corn with chile and cheese for nearly 30 years.
I recently spent a Sunday skiing with my family, an activity that spawns desire for cheesy glop like few others. On the long drive down from the mountains, my wife, Annie, got busy with her cellphone, Googling the names of Front Range towns with “Mexican” and “restaurant.” Alamos Verdes was one of her first hits.
It’s not the most attractive place from the outside, just off a busy street beside an auto shop. The atmosphere is warmer inside, but it’s nothing special: You’ve encountered the statue of the sleeping guy in a sombrero many times before.
But the glop! The refried beans, smoky and meaty. The chicken enchiladas, doused in hot green chile. The Spanish rice added texture and crunch. Fully glopped, we all piled back into the car and soon waddled to our beds.
Douglas Brown: 303-954-1395 or djbrown@denverpost.com
Alamos Verdes
Mexican
Mon-Thur, 11 a.m.-9 p.m. Fri-Sat, 11 a.m.-10 p.m. Sunday, 11 a.m.-8 p.m. 5304 Vance Street, Arvada. 303-422-5528.



