SANTA FE — Santa Fe is a great town if you like Indian art and tequila. I like tequila.
I also like food that doesn’t singe my esophagus, which is why Santa Fe never made my culinary bucket list. You must power chug margaritas to cool a throat rapidly going up in flames, and Santa Fe just happens to have the strongest margaritas north of the Mexico City bus station.
Santa Fe cops could retire just by busting drivers leaving restaurant parking lots.
You’ve all heard the stories about New Mexico chile. New Mexicans don’t ask each other, “What do you do?” or “Where do you live?” They ask, “Green or red chile?” They then immediately determine your manhood, place of birth and political leanings.
Frankly, despite being reduced to a cultural stereotype, I still got torched by both — green and red. But my highlight of last week’s frigid two-day trip to Santa Fe was another state food few know about outside New Mexico, some remote regions of South America and a couple of places in Denver — most famously Casa Bonita, on West Colfax.
Sopaipillas are the perfect antidote to New Mexico chile. They are square, puffed pastries you can fill with everything under the New Mexico sun. Ground beef. Vegetables. Cheese. Butter. Honey. Honey butter.
You won’t find sopaipillas in any health food store. A sopaipilla is about as healthy as a double deep- fried, glazed doughnut. In fact, it originated in the Muslim regions of the Iberian Peninsula in the fifth to eighth century. It comes from the Mozarabic word xopaipa, which means bread soaked in oil.
Pass that little factoid to your cardiologist. However, it deadens the pain of chile that New Mexicans seem to pour on everything from enchiladas to French toast.
Isabel Ortiz has been a waitress at the La Fiesta Lounge in the La Fonda hotel for 31 years, which is way too long to listen to mariachi bands.
“My mother made them from scratch when I was a little girl,” she said. “Now they come in a mix.”
In New Mexico tradition, true sopaipillas are made simply with flour, water, yeast and lard. OK, go back to your treadmill. You’re missing one of the true taste treats in New Mexico. They’re so popular, yes, they really do have sopaipilla mix in New Mexico grocery stores.
They come in many forms. As an appetizer. As a main course. As a dessert. They could even work for breakfast if you don’t want to eat for another eight hours.
My first meal was at Tomasita’s, no question the most famous restaurant in Santa Fe. Don’t worry. It’s not a tourist trap. A longtime waitress — whose name will be protected here as she works for a rival — recommended it as the best in town. So did my cabdriver, who’s a native.
In a 107-year-old building at the Santa Fe Railyard, Tomasita’s is constantly packed with locals who dine on heaping plates of green and red. Brass chandeliers hang from the ceiling. A giant string of red chiles hanging above my table lent an ominous tone.
Tomasita’s has reputedly the best sopaipillas in Santa Fe.
Mine came out as a giant square, raised to about 3 inches. A colossal pouring of green and red chile, split down the middle like a Christmas cookie, obscured the color of the baked pastry.
In New Mexico, either the green or red chile is hotter, depending on the restaurant. At Tomasita’s the red is the alpha chile. Cutting through it revealed a bulging pile of lean ground beef mixed with refried beans and cheese. Combined with the pastry, it tasted a bit like a square chimichanga with a big-time bite.
The next day at La Fonda, I went the appetizer route. La Fonda is noted for being where the old Santa Fe Trail ended at the town’s central plaza. Today, the Santa Fe Plaza is noted for local artisans selling the only affordable jewelry in town.
I couldn’t afford a $1,500 brooch in one of the Plaza’s many hoity-toity jewelry stores, but I could afford a $3 sopaipilla basket. They come plain and feel heavy despite their hollow insides. The custom is to tear off a corner, like you’re opening a bag of chips, and pour in the honey that adorns every table.
It’s a cheap meal if you want to save money for the margaritas and an even better way to soak up said margaritas. After all, the modern Santa Fe Trail isn’t only lined with chile.
John Henderson: 303-954-1299 or jhenderson@denverpost.com
If you go
Tomasita’s, 500 S. Guadalupe St., 505-983-5721
La Fiesta Lounge, in La Fonda Hotel, 100 E. San Francisco St., 1-800-523-5002
