When I found out I was traveling to Albuquerque on assignment my stomach growled eagerly in anticipation. Anyone who knows me knows that I love Mexican food, and I figured that the geographical proximity would result in a bounty of good Mexican restaurants. It turned out I was half right; there are a lot of Mexican restaurants, but most of them specialize in New Mexican cuisine. New Mexican, you say? Well, for me it boils down to a couple of general observations:

• Enchiladas are king. Chicken enchiladas with blue corn tortillas were on practically every menu.
• Red and green chile sauces, made with chopped roasted or dried chiles and spiked with various spices, are ubiquitous. You’re asked which one you want; if you want both, it’s “Christmas.” And both are hot, especially the red chile.
• You get pinto beans, not black.
• Sopaipillas—puffy pieces of fried bread—are part of the meal. I’ve been to Mexican restaurants where you can order a sopaipilla for dessert (since it’s often served with honey and butter or a scoop of ice cream), but here they arrive with your entree.


My first night in town I headed for the Frontier Restaurant since it had a fair number of kudos on Yelp and other user comment sites. Directly across from the University of New Mexico main entrance, it’s a longtime ABQ establishment and a student hangout for obvious reasons—ultra casual atmosphere, kitschy decor and most importantly, cheap grub. Chaotic describes it nicely. You stand in line until a green light starts blinking at one of the cashier stations. Then you walk up and bark out your order above the din (like most cafeteria-style places, the noise level is loud), and in a couple of minutes a small army of short-order cooks whips it together for you to take back to your table. My friend and I got chicken enchiladas, veggie enchiladas (both with red chile sauce) and a side of corn tortillas.

I can honestly say that this was the most uninspired New Mexican-style food I had on the trip. There was nothing wrong with the enchiladas, but they were smothered in a nuclear ooze of melted jack cheese; had I known I would have nixed it. The red chile was too hot for me, the accompanying rice bland and the salad nothing more than a little shredded iceberg graced with one cherry tomato. The tortillas were soaked with either butter or grease, which made them all but inedible. The sopaipillas were like a very thin, airy pita and tasted okay for a straight shot of carbs, but the two chintzy institutional packets of honey that came with them weren’t nearly enough, and they had a yucky institutional taste. If I were a starving student with barely any money I’d eat here all the time. But I’m not, so I give the Frontier a thumbs-down. It does, however, sport some very cool wall murals.


The next night we tried El Pinto, another local favorite that’s been around for quite awhile (since 1962). It looks like a really big hacienda under the trees, with an expansive outdoor patio and multiple dining rooms with dark red walls and wood-beamed ceilings—great atmosphere. The menu is extensive, but I stuck to my usual default choice, a chicken burrito plate with rice and pinto beans.

El Pinto’s salsa is good and fiery, and you can order it online; it’s that popular. But it was too hot for my taste. Curiously, I couldn’t substitute a corn tortilla for the burrito, and the flour tortilla wasn’t grilled or even warm, and as a result kind of blah. The sopaipillas were better than the ones at the Frontier. They looked like puffy pointed pillows, and instead of two little packets of honey there was a squeeze bottle on the table.  Everything was good; it just didn’t send me into orbit.

But as often happens when you travel, the best culinary experiences come out of the blue. We were driving around town on a Saturday afternoon trying to find the ABQ Uptown Mall when we passed Tony’s Tacos, a taco truck parked under a tree in a gravel lot. “Turn around!” I urged. We walked up to the order window and were greeted by two friendly señoras. After surveying the limited menu we decided on a gordita—a thicker version of a corn tortilla—topped with potatoes, refried pinto beans and mild white cheese. At $2.50 apiece, they were a delectable snack.

The second surprise occurred soon afterward.  Cruising along Route 66, we saw a barbecue place and decided to check it out, but it turned out to be closed. As we walked back to our car a guy directing traffic into a neighboring flea market recommended Mr. Powdrell’s Barbeque, which was just a couple of miles farther down the road, proclaiming it “real good.”

Powdrell’s is a walk-in, take-out joint at 11309 Central Ave. N.E. (Route 66) between Eubank and Juan Tabo boulevards; a small tent next to the brown brick building provides the only seating. I took the counter girl’s advice and got a pulled barbecue chicken burrito (hold the cheese and green chili sauce). It wasn’t really Mexican, but it was fantastic. The lightly grilled flour tortilla was packed with big pieces of white meat bathed in a nicely assertive barbecue sauce, and it had a secret ingredient: French fries. Something about the fact that the fries were in the burrito and not lying in a pile next to it made this thing even tastier. I also tried my friend’s corn cakes, which were a yummy cross between corn bread and a pancake. I have Albuquerque to thank for this 1-2 comfort food punch.