Soul food

I hovered over my green chile and beans with cheese today. Passers-by might think I was praying... or smelling... or looking for a bug.

I was smelling. I was taking in the scent of my childhood. My olfactory memory was in full swing. This particular smell was the same as the most memorable enchilada I'd had from Tesuque Market [before it became an overpriced, undertasty, tourist trap with management who apparently doesn't understand the importance of having the support of the locals]. I was growing like a weed at that age and finally finishing everything on my plate. We were eating out on the porch during what I like to believe was Fall, when Tesuque becomes even more magical than it is in every day life.

In fact, today I had to stop typing in order to finish my green chile and beans from Dos Hermanos. C'mon, I had to concentrate on the food. It's healthy to eat consciously, with purpose. My warm tortilla complimented my spoon like they were made in the same kitchen, both supporting each bite from the plastic bowl to my mouth.

Real chile, the chile from my favorite restaurant (see my pic of Tomasita's christmas enchilada), and the kind I find in my favorite kitchens, is THE most comforting food for me. There have been times when the comfort, the savoring, the emotions of the experience of covering my taste buds with the redest red or chopped green have simply been overwhelming. My stepdad makes the most wonderful red chile sauce and a pequi, recipes I've been enjoying for decades. Since I was 13 years old I could be found happily standing over his stove and soaking up the chile with french bread or a doughy tortilla. I make special trips to Tomasita's when I'm in Santa Fe; and believe me, the wait is always worth it.

So, this is my brief and semi-emotional ode to my comfort food. These feelings helped me to recognize my boyfriend's emotions when we finally found a real Japanese restaraunt here in Albuquerque Mirai Express. It was like all the years of his youth in Japan and his mother's kitchen come, flooding back to him. He could barely get the words out to explain how he felt, or all that he wanted for me to take from this experience. We were both elated to have stumbled upon this place near the UNM campus where he could order our meal and speak with the owner in Japanese. We oogled at the food, each other, and sighed with happy tummies as we walked out with our to-go boxes and green tea shake. Here's to soul food in our own metro!