Some of us have been in Santa Fe so long we’ve developed chips on our shoulders about certain changes within the community. This goes double for the restaurant world. We like what we like here.
The old Carrow’s where I’d drink 1 am coffee with a group of friends lovingly named Power Breakfast Squad is a bank now; the former JB’s where my parents took me for some obscene brownie dessert after a high test score in 6th grade is a Weck’s; Bobcat Bite is…well, Bobcat Bite is now Jambo Bobcat Bite, and owner/chef Ahmed Obo’s burger tastes so much like the original restaurant’s it often causes a wave of nostalgia to wash over me, so no complaints. But when it comes to Dinner for Two (106 N Guadalupe St., (505) 820-2075), I’d been thinking of it as breakfast joint OJ Sarah’s for so long that I think I may have made a big mistake—I ignored one of the best restaurants in town for far too long.
Try to understand there’s also a money concern. Before I wrote about food for a living and had those sweet, sweet work dollars with which to dine, I justified my misplaced mistrust in Dinner For Two by claiming it was all about my bank account. Dinner For Two is waaaaay more reasonably priced than I’d thought, though (especially for happy hour from 4-6:30 pm—and you can only stay two hours according to the menu). Like, maybe a little too reasonably priced. Don’t get me wrong, it’s at least a little more pricy than your average $12 burger joint, but like, how do they make it work for two people to eat entirely too much food for roughly $100? Anyway, even if it weren’t more affordable than seems possible, the pricepoint is really just the capper; Dinner For Two is a full-on experience.
Alex De Vore
The Frenched crisped chicken breast is easily the best chicken dish this writer has tasted in this or any town.
To wit, we showed up late, sans-reservation (albeit in slightly nicer clothes than we usually wear). My dining companion had voiced concerns about a long wait before we arrived, but I brushed them off—y’know, like a jerk. And though the restaurant’s patio was abuzz under the hot pink neon sign that advises diners to “Feed me cocktails and tell me I’m pretty,” the gracious host not only greeted us with warmth following my sheepish, “Two, please, but we didn’t book anything,” he sat us immediately. Now, Dinner For Two has that aforementioned patio, and that’s where everyone wants to sit. We, however, gladly took an interior two-top at a window facing Guadalupe Street while apologizing profusely for having shown up unannounced. “It’s fine, man,” the host said. “We’re glad you’re here.” And it was just as well. From our table we could peer at the cacophonous show of Dinner For Two’s open concept kitchen. We observed tableside prep for Caesar salads and bananas Foster and chateaubriand (an inside-only option according to the menu). We also had a fantastic server whose attentiveness was rivaled only by his laid-back yet professional air. We never wanted for anything at any moment, and rather than flooding our senses with a series of disingenuous lies about how refilling -waters was his pleasure, he spoke to us like human beings. Wild.
The evening began with a rather ingenious cranberry and cinnamon mocktail ($8). Our server told us the bartender was a wizard, and he wasn’t lying. Sure, I was concerned the sweet notes of cinnamon would clash with the tart cranberry, but I was so wrong, and the included candied lime slice offered a subtle but welcome splash of citrus.
On the food front, we started with the salmon fish and chips appetizer ($15). How have I never seen fish and chips made with salmon before? Dinner For Two’s version was well-fried and not particularly greasy, even when it came to the shoestring fries (aka chips), and the unexpected and buttery salmon piqued our palates and appetites without putting the stranglehold on our budget.
When it came time to select our main courses, we faced an embarrassment of riches. Dinner For Two owner/chef Andy Barnes is known for well-cooked steak and quality seafood like lobster tails, but his restaurant’s menu clearly has more to offer than surf ‘n’ turf. Still, we wanted it all. In the end, rather than falling into a steak hole that we both still say would have likely been amazing, my companion opted for the hickory smoked fajitas ($33) while I chose the Frenched crisped chicken breast ($28).
Listen to me very carefully when I tell you we’ve never sampled fajitas quite like those at Dinner For Two. Some claim hickory’s smoky flavor closely resembles bacon, but its use in this particular dish put bacon to shame. In fact, the fajitas felt borderline cheeky in their smack-you-in-the-mouth flavor profile—a sweet and savory combination that effortlessly phased between both. This was the kind of dish for which folks reserve the word “umami,” and the tender cuts of beef so brilliantly absorbed the aromatic hickory that all either of us could say for several minutes was, “Oh my god.” True story.
The chicken held its own alongside the fajitas, no question, and seeing a Frenched chicken breast—a process by which the wing bone remains connected to the breast—on a local menu was rather satisfying. At Dinner For Two the breast comes stuffed with sun-dried tomato, gruyere cheese and a cabernet glaze, and the “cripsed” part perhaps makes it the locally available chicken dish to beat. According to our server, the kitchen begins by baking the breast to a specific heat before pulling it out of the oven and briefly crisping it on the stove. This allows the flavor of its glaze and stuffing to intermingle inside, but it also adds a crispy texture to counterbalance its more tender elements and the melange of cheese and tomato. I’ve since dreamed about this chicken more than once, and I’m not sure I’ll feel whole again if I don’t eat it again soon. Dramatic? Hell yes. Hyperbolic? Nope.
We closed the night with a fun and fruity dessert called the Coconut in Paradise—a not-quite-big-enough helping of coconut mousse served inside half of a chocolate sphere with blackberries and mangoes spread out across the plate. At $15, this treat felt a little pricey for a dessert, especially since we each could’ve eaten our own no problem. Sometimes desserts leave a diner feeling over-fed, but this delightful concoction was refreshing and not too sweet. Like the rest of the menu, it contained items we both knew well, only implemented into flavors and textures and combinations we didn’t. What a waste of time it has been not eating at Dinner For Two constantly. I’d even pay my own money.
