Santa Fe is an iconic American city, as unique as New Orleans with a history as long and rich. The city’s cultural and natural attractions are legend—the restaurants, the world-class opera, the ski mountain, the Canyon Road galleries, the gorgeous Ten Thousand Waves spa. I have eaten, shopped and toured my way through Santa Fe many times. Recently I went with no 4-star agenda (and no 4-star budget!), for a laid-back weekend with a friend from high school. As the city celebrates its 400th anniversary this year, I had the opportunity to check out a side of Santa Fe that I had never seen before.

If that intro sounded too slick for regular visitors to this site, you are right. I started this piece as a guest post for a major travel journalism site that I found out no longer accepts guest posts. Now back to our regularly scheduled doggerel:

Several years ago a friend of mine moved to Santa Fe to work in one of the city’s legendary restaurants. (Actually, he moved there chasing tail, and ended up working at a great restaurant.) It is hard to imagine that a city of only 60,000 people is home to so many nationally acclaimed restaurants. The Compound, Santa Café, Geronimo, Coyote Café, to name a few. The number of high-end restaurants (just like the number of art galleries, and the caliber of the Santa Fe Opera) is disproportionate to the city’s diminutive size. With all of this fabulosity comes a fabulous price.

Though I was feeling fabulous when I flew out there (with no small assistance from the in-flight cocktails which make the hassles of modern air travel endurable), I wasn't feeling so fabulous about my wallet, and so we decided to take a low-key approach. Check out some of the places that the locals patronize. Spend some time in a couple (okay, a dozen +) thrift stores. Maybe eat out of a "chili bag."

Located in the former Woolworth’s building is Five & Dime, which is about 50% tourist trap and 25% general store, with the remaining part taken up by the real reason to go there, which is the Frito Pie. Nothing innovative here, it is just a treat to be able to order this self-contained delight somewhere outside of a Little League game. In fairer weather, patrons take their “chili bag” outside to enjoy it in the plaza in front of Santa Fe’s oldest building, the Palace of the Governors. In this weather, your butt would have frozen to the park bench, so we ate inside.

This frito pie was a gut bomb, but I'm glad I tried it. Not too many places serving meals in a chip bag these days.

I should mention another unique factor in my recent trip. In addition to my lilliputian budget, this adventure was marked by another oddity for me--SNOW. A native of central Texas I have only ever been around falling snow a few times in my life (although, ironically, it is snowing in Austin right now). When I landed in Albuquerque, it was snowing in Santa Fe and dumped the better part of a foot on the city over the course of the day. It was really beautiful seeing the city under a blanket of white. It made me want to have a cocktail. And a big-ass burger.

A few short miles out of town, and well worth the drive, is Bobcat Bite. Known for enormous burgers, the Bite has operated in a historic trading post on the edge of town for more than 50 years.

I believe that Bobcat claims to have invented the green chili burger. Regardless of the veracity of this claim, it is a good eat. If I have one complaint, it's that the meat:cheese ratio is off when the patty is this big. Part of the beauty of a cheeseburger is a harmonious meat:cheese ratio, which this burger does not have with only one slice of cheese for that big ass patty. Also, I would take a pass on the potatoes next time. Bobcat has no fryers and there's something just not quite satisfying about a griddled potato with a cheese burger.

Because of economic constraints that I have already discussed, we decided to take a brief respite from pricey Santa Fe and drive to nearby budget-driven communities of Española and Pojoaque, which are noticeably short on fine dining and art galleries, but make up for it with other cultural treasures, such as drive-in liquor stores.

Red's in Española is awesome, something you just don't find in Texas--Drive-in liquor store in the front; old-school lounge (pool tables, paintings of nekkid ladies) in the middle; and rustic steakhouse in the back.

Kokoman is a bad-ass liquor store in Pojoaque. One of the best selections I've ever seen, orders of magnitude more thorough than any liquor store in Austin. I found some real treasures there--Pappy Van Winkle 13yr rye, Cocchi Americano vermouth; a bunch of rums and ryes that I couldn't fit in my suitcase. And one of the best anti-hot check policies I've ever seen:

Whatever you do, don't write us a hot check or we will put your bitch ass up on the marquee!

One of the things that really impresses me about Santa Fe is how many quaint bars there are. For a city that famously shuts down early, even on weekends, there are a lot of great comfortable bars that seem to host a pleasant mix of tourists and locals.

Tiny's was by far one of my favorite stops on this trip. Though it does not have its own Web site, it has been identified by Esquire magazine as one of the best bars in the country. A nondescript storefront in a nondescript shopping center does not belie the treasure to be found within: A bar that seems apparently trapped in time, wrought iron decor and all. There was a live blues rock band playing to a crowd of mostly 40-, 50-, and 60-somethings, who were dancing and having a festive time. I was really amazed by this--I don't think I could name a bar in Austin that caters to a mature set such as this, that swings at such fill tilt. It was great, and a scene in which to be seen--we were honored to meet the mayor of Albuquerque that evening at Tiny's. But my favorite part about Tiny's is the decor--on shelves all around and above the bar you can behold what is alleged to be the Largest Decanter Collection in the Southwest. I don't even know how many contenders are for this distinction, but it sounds as impressive as it looks. Decanters in all manner of shapes and sizes, with an emphasis on woodland wildlife, Indians, Elvis, and leprechauns.

That's some nice taxidermy, right? PSYCH!!! It's just more Jim Beam decanters. Come to think of it, the whole crowd here, both ceramic and human, was more Jim Beam Decanter than, say, Crystal Skull Vodka, or whatever the kids are drinking these days. In fact, the place is so vintage that when Jenna Lane, the foxy associate publisher of Edible Austin magazine, asked to be dropped off there, the shuttle drivers were like, "You want to go WHERE?" Yes, boys, she wanted to go to Tiny's. Because decanters are hot.

El Farol is located on Canyon Road just down the street from Geronimo. The intimate bar was packed on the night we went, and a great blues band played on the unusual “split” stage—divided in the middle by the front door to the bar. In addition to the denizens of the local hospitality industry, we found ourselves in the presence of Hollywood greats Mickey Rourke and Bill Murray. Mr Murray was lit up like Christmas (in more ways than one, but specifically by the illuminated lei he wore) and declined a photograph. Mr. Rourke was more accommodating.

Your Tipsy Texan (left) with the Wrestler (center) and my host and very good friend Michael (right)

El Charro is another one of those quaint little hotel bars. A comfortable place to relax with friends and drink beer by a fire place.

This about how things looked like by the time we got to El Charro

Edible Communities is the group of magazine owners to which Edible Austin belongs, and they were having their annual publisher's conference was in town that weekend. They were shacked up at the Bishop's Lodge, a few miles outside of Santa Fe.

The Bishop's Lodge under a blanket of snow

La Posada is a luxury hotel with a great restaurant and a cozy, quaint bar. Peeking through the window of Fuego I noticed that the restaurant no longer offers the luxury of eating brunch from the comfort of a plush sofa, though it still promises to be one of the best in town. The last time that I ate there, one of the brunch "courses" consisted of a bloody mary cart that rolls to the table, whereabouts the server prepares your drink and garnishes it with such luxuries as pickled green bean, pickled caper berry, and either crab leg or prawn.

Just outside of town is Camel Rock, the namesake monolith of the Camel Rock Casino, affectionately known as the Camel Toe Casino. I wonder what they called the rock before they knew about Camels? (important historical note: in 2002 I had the pleasure of seeing Poison play at this very casino)

Early New Mexican Barbed Wire Technology at Camel Rock

Now for the real reason I went to Santa Fe: I had been fantasizing about guest bartending at Coyote Cafe for a long time, and my friend Michael hooked me up with the beverage director, Quinn Stephenson, and we put the deal in motion. I wrote a short menu of my own cocktails and some of my favorite classics, and smuggled in some hooch from Texas, and we did a little expo. It was super cool.

One of the cocktails I did was the Green Hour, which I created with my ffriend Ryan Ffrench when we were at Annie's in Austin: Gin, Absinthe, Herb Syrup, Lemon, Egg White. Topped with bitters from the Misto, a trick which I learned from Bobby Heugel of Houston's Anvil

My menu for the evening. Those of you who saw us out & about in Austin this past season may recognize some of these cocktails, indeed may blanche at the thought of having to tipple another cup of Harvest Punch. But to Santa Fe on that evening, everything was new, even that tired White Buffalo shirt that wore out its welcome by November in the Austin scene. I am really not a one trick pony, as I have often claimed, so much as a one stable cowboy:

Coyote Café was at one time synonymous with high-end southwestern cooking, being as it was the restaurant that put that cuisine on the map. Opened in 1987 by Mark Miller, Coyote rose to national and international prominence, the type of attention that draws in huge crowds, and with that attention comes the requisite ire of self-anointed critics of Yelp and that ilk. A few years ago Miller decided to sell Coyote to a small partnership of former coworkers and colleagues, including Geronimo chef Eric DeStefano and beverage director Quinn Stephenson, also from Geronimo. It is understandable that a restaurant that has been in business for more than 20 years has had ups and downs. After my recent dinner there I can certify that they are definitely UP right now. One of the best meals I have ever eaten.

Me with Coyote beverage director/co-owner Quinn Stephenson

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