I’m having a potluck today at work, but in general, you’d best not have one if you’re going to invite anyone and everyone – its illegal.

The St. Francis Xavier Parish in Albuquerque, ‘fer gawd’s sake, has an annual potluck to foster the community spirit and get folks excited about the holidays.   Because they invite the public, the city has told them, “No way, Yahweh”.  News hit the blogosphere – even outside of New Mexico – and local talk radio, causing an appropriate uproar.

El Pinto has stepped in to provide some of the food, but the ordinance itself doesn’t stand much of a chance of being changed, unfortunately, despite the promise that it will be on the next city council meeting’s agenda.

Something sweet, a little bit cold, but still with a buck and kick like a mule and just a little bit of warmth (at least in the beginning, anyway):

Affogato at Berry Ocean, holiday tree already set up and sparkling in the background:

…. and then, approximately 60 seconds later:

How many times have I eaten at La Nortenita?  In short, a lot.  Maybe more than most restaurants in Albuquerque, with the exception of my routine lunch spot which right now shall go unnamed.

In the cool of autumn, the dead of winter, the chill of spring, or, hell, ANY old time, I just love La Nortenita’s menudo.  Breaking from appropriate accoutrements, I get corn tortillas instead of bolillo bread and just let all the masa-rich aroma penetrate the lime-spiked zing of the red chile broth.

You could eat this even if you weren’t a fan of tripe if you only could ignore the various bits floating in the bowl.  But typically they are front and center and make no mistake about it, they used to be part of an animal.  Thank you, steer.  You are most delicious when stewed in red chile.

I was recently reminded of this fantastic article from Food & Wine a little while ago, and remembered that much of the cooking I’ve done has been intuitive, resulting in some really great dishes.  Unfortunately, I don’t often document my experiments so when faced with a lovely meal I really don’t know which road I took to get there.

My creations might not reach the haute cuisine ranks of Rob in Silver City, but so far I’m doing OK.

Alas, I might never recreate that perfect variation of the salted caramels, or the dry rub for my favorite steak, but at least I’m not watching FoodTV with my Hungry Man TV dinner, either.

Who Needs Recipes? – from Food & Wine

The last time I saw a person wearing their McCain “flair” (this one in the form of a t-shirt), it was when I was eating the best freaking meatloaf sandwich I have ever had.

66 Malt Shop is the place.

Go there and have root beer, or a limeade, but do order the green chile and bleu cheese burger, or this thing of beauty, the meatloaf sandwich:

I will return there again, and perhaps I won’t see that blue emblazoned t-shirt, but I will find hospitality and a darned good meal.  Thank you, Eric and Diane.  Congratulations, Obama.