The San Diego area is said to be famous for fish tacos. My first foray into the genre was at Wahoo's Fish Tacos, a little joint plastered in surfing and skateboarding stickers about 1/2 mile from my current digs. The fish is blackened, the tortillas are corn, the shredded greens not lettuce, but rather cabbage. The smoky house hot sauce ties it all together.
Armed with the book Roadfood by Jean and Michael Stern, Wi-Fi at stops along the way and a GPS, we discovered several key dining establishments during the roadtrip to California. Here, I feature a few from the Southwest stretch. Santa Fe, New Mexico, two stops: Bert's Burger Bowl and the Plaza Cafe. Bert's is renowned enough that the Food Network had just been through to tape a show featuring its famous chili-cheeseburger. Really, the place is not a Bowl at all, but rather, a no-frills shack, pretty reminiscent of a Chicago hot-dog stand. You order, they bark, you pay, they cook, you wait, you leave, you eat. What, you want service? With no indoor seating and it being too cold outdoors to enjoy the patio-style seating (which surprised this naive Northerner), we ate in the car. Though you can't see the beef patty lurking under all that cheese and the pile of spicy-tangy chopped chilis, I can assure you it's there, exuding smoky goodness right through its burned edges, a signature from time spent on the ancient wood-fired open grill. The fries were exceptional as well. The Plaza is... right on the plaza in downtown Santa Fe, and was buzzing with wholesome early evening diners, mostly families, enjoying heaped plates of local speciality dishes and ridiculously gigantic slices of house-made pie. We, however, were there for the sopapillas, a delight I hadn't truly enjoyed since I was a child and we would wolf them down greedily at South of the Border restaurant on Roosevelt Road in Glen Ellyn. I don't know why these simple fried pillows of dough are not consumed as a staple food. They are served steaming hot, and are yeasty and utterly irresistable no matter how full of chili-cheeseburger and fries your belly is. The idea is to tear them open and drizzle (OK, glob) honey into / onto them and eat them as quickly as you can, all the while going "MMMmmmMmMMmmm," licking honey off your fingers and occasionally taking a sip of coffee, that, mostly for appearances. 
Next morning in Las Cruces, it was Andale Cafe, for a revelatory plate of Huevos Rancheros. Corn tortillas are topped with two perfectly fried eggs, one smothered with pungent, smoky, spiky red chili sauce, the other with decadent, creamy green chili sauce. Flavorful beans accompany, along with a flour tortilla that put all other flour tortillas I'd ever eaten to shame. I'm not sure I can actually eat another flour tortilla. This one had attitude, heft, style. Not the flavorless, pasty-yet-somehow-still-crumbly variety we are used to up North. The chorizo rounded the whole thing out in a way that only sausage can. Not pictured: basket after basket of dark brown tortilla chips-that-meant-business accompanied by a variety of salsas from the salsa bar. This, for breakfast. Truly this is the promised land!
Lunch was in Tuscon, Arizona, at El Charro Cafe, famous for their air-dried beef, or "Carne Seca." Strips of seasoned beef are hung in cages above the patio where we dined. The place was full of festive brunchers enjoying their Sunday feast along with refreshing margaritas. Alas, sobriety is the one drawback of roadtrip dining! We consoled ourselves with a giant bowl of menudo brimming with hominy and tender beef in a sustaining broth. The Carne Seca plate was enough of the flavorful beef (shredded and combined with chopped tomato and onion), beans, rice and onions to make us 3 tacos each, and the 6 for the road. The flavor of the Carne Seca is slightly beef-jerkyish, in the best possible way, with lots of lime and garlic and chile.
In summary, Yes to the food of the Southwest.
First, Friday Fish Fry. This shot was taken at Toby's Supper Club, which they say has been around since the Depression era. Not this depression, the one back in the 20s. It hasn't changed much since then! Toby's layout features an oval bar in the middle of the room, patrons thronging around it, surrounded by very simple tables. This layout is perfectly designed to support the tradition at Friday Fish Fry, which is to sit at the bar with your party, drink awhile, and eventually place your order with a wandering waitress. The iconic Wisconsin drink order at fish fry is the Brandy Old Fashioned; there are many ways to customize this cocktail and the condiments that get splashed into it - sweet, sour, press, mushrooms, onions, olives, cherries. Can also be made with whiskey. A few cocktails in, when your order is ready, the waitress points you to a table where your first course is waiting. The first course is your choice of an iceberg-lettuce salad, coleslaw, cottage cheese or tomato juice. Then comes the fish. What you see piled on plates at right and left is fried Lake Perch, small, fishy fish. Squeeze lemon over them, dip in rich tartar sauce and you're off. Yes, that's right, we dip deep fried foods in mayonnaise. Upper plate pictured is cod, which is also generally offered at fish fry, as is walleye and pike, sometimes shrimp. Other standard items pictured on our table include the basket of soft dinner rolls and bread sticks (Matt had already consumed all of the bread sticks), pats of butter and margarine, giant pile of hash brown potatoes, numerous kinds of booze (gin, brandy, wine and beer in this case), pickle dish and romantic candlelight.
Second, mornings like today, when every branch of every tree is coated with frosty ice, transforming the landscape, making you pause and stare and feel magical. The ice draws attention to the breathtaking beauty of the simplest, most stoic trees. The drama of this effect is temporary, therefore precious. These shots were taken at the Yahara River and Tenney Park in Madison, blocks from my condo.
Next morning in Las Cruces, it was Andale Cafe, for a revelatory plate of Huevos Rancheros. Corn tortillas are topped with two perfectly fried eggs, one smothered with pungent, smoky, spiky red chili sauce, the other with decadent, creamy green chili sauce. Flavorful beans accompany, along with a flour tortilla that put all other flour tortillas I'd ever eaten to shame. I'm not sure I can actually eat another flour tortilla. This one had attitude, heft, style. Not the flavorless, pasty-yet-somehow-still-crumbly variety we are used to up North. The chorizo rounded the whole thing out in a way that only sausage can. Not pictured: basket after basket of dark brown tortilla chips-that-meant-business accompanied by a variety of salsas from the salsa bar. This, for breakfast. Truly this is the promised land!
Lunch was in Tuscon, Arizona, at El Charro Cafe, famous for their air-dried beef, or "Carne Seca." Strips of seasoned beef are hung in cages above the patio where we dined. The place was full of festive brunchers enjoying their Sunday feast along with refreshing margaritas. Alas, sobriety is the one drawback of roadtrip dining! We consoled ourselves with a giant bowl of menudo brimming with hominy and tender beef in a sustaining broth. The Carne Seca plate was enough of the flavorful beef (shredded and combined with chopped tomato and onion), beans, rice and onions to make us 3 tacos each, and the 6 for the road. The flavor of the Carne Seca is slightly beef-jerkyish, in the best possible way, with lots of lime and garlic and chile.
In summary, Yes to the food of the Southwest.
First, Friday Fish Fry. This shot was taken at Toby's Supper Club, which they say has been around since the Depression era. Not this depression, the one back in the 20s. It hasn't changed much since then! Toby's layout features an oval bar in the middle of the room, patrons thronging around it, surrounded by very simple tables. This layout is perfectly designed to support the tradition at Friday Fish Fry, which is to sit at the bar with your party, drink awhile, and eventually place your order with a wandering waitress. The iconic Wisconsin drink order at fish fry is the Brandy Old Fashioned; there are many ways to customize this cocktail and the condiments that get splashed into it - sweet, sour, press, mushrooms, onions, olives, cherries. Can also be made with whiskey. A few cocktails in, when your order is ready, the waitress points you to a table where your first course is waiting. The first course is your choice of an iceberg-lettuce salad, coleslaw, cottage cheese or tomato juice. Then comes the fish. What you see piled on plates at right and left is fried Lake Perch, small, fishy fish. Squeeze lemon over them, dip in rich tartar sauce and you're off. Yes, that's right, we dip deep fried foods in mayonnaise. Upper plate pictured is cod, which is also generally offered at fish fry, as is walleye and pike, sometimes shrimp. Other standard items pictured on our table include the basket of soft dinner rolls and bread sticks (Matt had already consumed all of the bread sticks), pats of butter and margarine, giant pile of hash brown potatoes, numerous kinds of booze (gin, brandy, wine and beer in this case), pickle dish and romantic candlelight.
Second, mornings like today, when every branch of every tree is coated with frosty ice, transforming the landscape, making you pause and stare and feel magical. The ice draws attention to the breathtaking beauty of the simplest, most stoic trees. The drama of this effect is temporary, therefore precious. These shots were taken at the Yahara River and Tenney Park in Madison, blocks from my condo.
