Santa Feans love to argue when it comes to our restaurants. Everyone knows better than everyone else, right? Maybe so. But still, within our fluctuating food scene, we can count a number of restaurants that have transcended time and space to become downright institutions, and Tia Sophia’s (210 W San Francisco St., (505) 983-9880) is one such place. The Plaza-adjacent New Mexican mecca hit the big five-oh on May 5 (that’s 50 years in case that wasn’t clear), and still maintains its popularity thanks to a pattern of consistency, local love and a family legacy that spans back literal decades. We spoke with owner Nicholas Maryol, who took over with his wife Vanessa when his founder-parents Jim and Ann retired in 2005, to mark the occasion. This interview has been edited for clarity and concision. (Alex De Vore)
Out of curiosity, how long have you been working at Tia Sophia’s? Can I assume it has been your whole life?
My parents opened up the restaurant when I was 4, and my dad put me to work bussing tables during the summer when I was 6. I started really working there when I came home from college, y’know, like I started waiting tables through my college years every summer for tip money. Then when my parents dipped out in 2005, I took it over full-time and I’ve had it 20 years—this is my 20th, first of the year. That’s the full timeline.
Courtesy Nicholas Maryol
My dad has a story about standing on a crate and cooking at his mother’s restaurant, the Central Café—that’s my grandmother Sophia, whom the restaurant is named after—and he was cooking on the grill. His 5-year-old sister was waiting tables; they were the only two people in there running the restaurant. Back in 1950 I bet that was just cute, but can you imagine?
Does the 50th anniversary feel like the end of a chapter, the beginning of the next chapter or some combination of those things?
My wife Vanessa and I took a trip to Japan…last month—I actually lived in Japan for a couple years—but right when we got back, at about 3 am, my eyes sprung open and I think I started my midlife crisis. My brain started to race about: What would my life have been like if I hadn’t ever come back from Japan? It hit me hard.
So it’s a little of column A, a little of column B. I’ve been extremely conservative and hesitant about changing my modus operandi, changing how I do stuff. And we’ve kept the same recipes in general, though I’ve done some different things with the same stuff. But I think I’m to the point where I’m ready to break some eggs to make some omelettes. I’ve always said we’ve made as much in-house as possible, and that’s true about 85% of the time, but now I’m thinking there are some more things we could make in-house. I’m going to start looking at ways and means of making everything as fresh as possible. Part of this was the trip to Japan, where everything was as fresh as possible. I mean, I’m eating this fresh food in Japan, and I’m thinking I’ve got some of the freshest food in a Santa Fe restaurant, but there are still some things we could do. I’m at a point in my life where if I have to get up at 3 am so I can shred potatoes so we can have super-fresh hash browns…I’m kind of to that point in my life.
There are going to be some growing pains, and I’ve known some restaurants I really liked that changed and it never gets better, but the idea is not for me to change things to try to make more of a profit, the idea is that I want to change things to make things better. I want to give more value for the same amount of money. The food I had in Japan was just so good, and the people there are so obsessed with doing everything perfectly, and this probably goes in with my midlife crisis, but I’m ready to do some of that stuff. It’s not that I’ve been resting on my laurels for 20 years, it’s that it’s taken me 20 years to get comfortable enough to do it. I have a serious case of imposter syndrome, and every year I say to myself, ‘This is the year I run the restaurant into the ground.’ And every year I manage to not do that. I’m to the point where I’m starting to believe I can run a restaurant, and I’ve mastered everything mom and dad used to do, so now I can roll my sleeves up, get in there and do stuff for the better. It’s weird, because my midlife crisis also comes with a fresh view and a hopeful view of the future, where I can make cost-effective decisions that will increase the value of the meal, make it better and not just make a hash job of it all. I’m 53, and I imagine in 15 years I’ll be looking at retirement. The next leg and possibly the last leg? It’s a long-ass leg.
If you could say anything to the legions of fans, what would it be?
Oh god, it sounds so trite, but just thank you, y’know? When my parents opened up the restaurant in 1975, they were a couple of blue collar schlubs who just believed in success through hard work, and that’s…there’s no magic formula. The only formula is you’ve gotta get up and work. You’ve gotta get up in there and give it your all every day. The idea that your hard work will be rewarded is powerful. All those people who’ve been fans of ours through the years? Thank you for being a part of this dream of ours. It’s just the honest truth. This is what we want. We want to be successful in our endeavors. I just…places like Tia Sophia’s are sort of an anchor to the ideal, a beacon to that ideal.
