In my not-a-review piece about Santa Fe steakhouse Market Steer Steakhouse from last July—just as the restaurant was settling into its new digs on Washington Avenue following years inside Hotel St. Francis—I wrote that “it would seem there aren’t really kinks to work out,” when it came to the food, service, ambiance, etc. Now, nearly a year later, I’ve returned to the scene of the best steak I ever ate to check out the bar menu, and I must say I’m impressed by what co-owners/life partners chef Kathleen Crook and Kristina Goode have been able to accomplish in a relatively short span of time.
First? A quick refresher on Market Steer itself: Crook comes from a ranching family in Artesia, New Mexico, down south. She’s also a decorated rodeo champion, so she basically bleeds agricultural concepts and a commitment to hard work. Way back in 2019, Crook told SFR of her family that “we raised our own beef and we raised our own pork and we raised our own chickens,” so it’s safe to say she knows a thing or two about farm-to-table and what that means for taste and quality. Goode, meanwhile, remains one of Santa Fe’s most-seasoned service professionals from the simple if old-school ethos that places the consumer experience above all else. Together, they outgrew the original Market Steer location and took over the former El Mesón space and built something entirely new and gorgeous with help from local designer Thom Ortiz and sommelier Tyler Rudoff. And everyone loves it.
Still, when we’re talking a white tablecloth kind of joint with stunning trappings and art, a dedicated wine decanting station and a custom-built glassware chandelier, we’re also talking not-so-cheap. Market Steer’s main dining room is not what you’d call affordable, at least not on a regular basis—nor should it be. Top-tier food and service are wildly expensive to provide, and you get what you pay for. For those of us who can’t splurge quite as often but still want to get in on Crook’s creative cookery and the restaurant’s whole vibe? They’ve got The Tack Room, a bar dining experience that maintains the overall ethos while adding a number of economically priced dishes and drinks into the fray. Spoiler alert: The Tack Room earns high marks across the board.
I knew it would likely be good before I’d even decided to eat there, so I took my mom because I’m nice. As a word of warning, The Tack Room opens at 4 pm, and we assumed we’d find a pre-dinner lull when we arrived shortly after 5, but we barely squeaked into a table. No, you don’t need/can’t get reservations for the bar, and there’s a lot more seating than you’d likely think, but word seems to have spread as the space bustled with a borderline electric hubbub, and that includes folks who show up before their big meal to snag a cocktail or beer or mocktail or something.
The menu at The Tack Room is split into two main concepts, including a lineup of $10 snacks (though some items are absolutely more than a little nosh) and a handful of more substantial dishes ranging from $18-$30. We also learned from our mustachioed server Nicholas (who killed it all night, by the way) that we could order from the main menu if we’d liked. But we were there for the bar menu, and it did not disappoint.
Alex De Vore
We began with a dish from the snacks menu dubbed The Duel, a proper noun sort of offering bursting with intrigue for one big reason—beef bacon. Don’t worry, bacon simps, though, because it also includes the pork bacon you know in love. In fact, that’s the premise: beef v. pork in the Thunderdome faceoff where your taste buds are the judge. I’ve eaten all sorts of foods across this globe, but never once have I tried beef bacon. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it on a menu in this or any town. Of course, if you’re from a place where beef bacon is the norm, please accept my apologies. If not, though, Market Steer has something killer on their hands. Similar in texture to pork bacon, Crook’s dish is a savory and thin affair that almost tricks you in how you’d expect it to taste. With a subtle richness that unfolds into a buttery and tangy combination, the beef bacon wowed me. Still, the pork bacon won the competition simply for its comforting and familiar aspects, but now that it’s out there that a local chef can baconify something unexpected, it’s interesting to think of the implications. Perhaps Crook would do duck bacon someday? Just a silly thought.
For mains, my dear mother tried in vain to sneak in a main menu order, but she ultimately opted for the Johnny C Smash Burger ($25), another dish with capital letters in its name, and one about which I’d asked after the titular Johnny C. Probably a relative of Crook’s. Whatever its name, the burger was bangin’ in its almost unexpected smokier flavor. Same goes for the roasted green chile and gooey Munster cheese, not to mention the pickled red onion. Together, they formed stacked series of texture and taste sensations from which no two bites tasted quite the same. And yes, I made my mom hand over some bites, including the crispy hand-cut fries.
I, meanwhile, chose the Caviar “Frito Pie,” an option that comes with quotes because, despite its adorable in-a-Frito-bag presentation, comes with house-made potato chips garnished with creme fraiche, chives, shallots and the eponymous caviar. Honestly, I’d recently learned the dish existed, and it was the initial draw. And, oh, what a savory delight was this dish, and not just because of the salty caviar that burst in my mouth like satisfying little sparkling bubbles. How can it be that something as simple as potato chips can be so delicious when thick-cut and fresh? The creme fraiche was also a sweet and sour delight that regular old sour cream could never hope to mimic, and the whisper-sweet taste of the shallots brought it all home. If I had a criticism for the otherwise fantastic faux-Frito Pie, it would be that I ran out of the creme and shallots and chives quite quickly—these elements don’t make their way to the bottom of the bag, in fact. I understand we can’t all go around expecting piles of caviar for $18, and there is surely such a thing as presentation when it comes to dining. Still, a little bit of creme and garnish reaching deeper into the bag would have been nice.
The Tack Room also boasts a number of $10 wines by the glass, as well as cocktails and even a $5 Miller High Life option for people who know what it means to sip from the Champagne of beers. Neither of us drank, though, in anticipation of the bourbon bread pudding for dessert (also $10). By the time we made it to the end, though, we had to tell our poor server Nicholas that we’d die if we ate another bite. He took it in good spirits, though, probably because he knows we’re now fans for life. Given Crook’s prowess in the kitchen—not to mention how she’s whipped up innovative dishes like that beef bacon or, on the main restaurant menu, a pickled blueberry creme brûlée, my mind wanders to what other delights she might concoct in the future. After all, Market Street as we now know it has only operated for about 10 months at this point. The sky’s the limit.
