Alex De Vore
Counter Culture
It’s been a whirl of wind in my little universe of late, including a quick trip to Denver to see the legendary Jawbreaker and Descendents (more on that on page 27), which also meant feeling too overwhelmed to cook or plan to cook or even plan to plan. I’ll admit it, there’s been a little too much dining out lately, but in the pursuit of New Mexican food, can there be such a thing?
Counter Culture
930 Baca St., (505) 995-1105; Breakfast and Lunch daily
In the pantheon of problems, Counter Culture not taking credit or debit cards over the last several millennia has certainly been a small one, but now that the Baca Street locals’ favorite does indeed accept plastic, it’s good news for those of us who consistently forget to carry cash. Everything else is likely how you remember it—counter service, grab-your-own water and an older lady and gentlemen who ask if you’re in line, scoff when you say, “Oh, sorry, I am waiting in line,” and then try to surreptitiously form their own with a different cashier. No matter, though, for this was a lazy midweek day, and the company was none other than stalwart local rock god Mikey Baker of Moby Dick and Love Gun.
Note immediately that while Counter Culture will take your card now, tipping still works on a cash-only basis. I expressed my guilt over having none and was graciously assured there’s no way I could have known. Now you know, though, so take a couple extra bucks. Otherwise, the main goal was in choosing between a handheld burrito or a smothered one ($6.50-$10.50, and contingent on chile/bacon choices). I’ve learned repeatedly that this can be a point of contention amongst dining friends, and while Mr. Baker opted to go the un-smothered route like some sort of maniac, I generally like to get as much Christmas action on my New Mexican dishes as is possible. This proved a wise choice, indeed, as the egg-to-potato ratio (which I should maybe start calling E2P for future columns in this series, as I plan to mention it A LOT) was tragically off. It’s frustrating to wind up with a breakfast burrito that amounts to little more than potatoes wrapped in a tortilla, but this is what I received and, were it not for going the smothered route, it might have been a real dryness problem. Counter Culture’s green is often superb, though, and it did not disappoint this day while Baker and I compared notes on the insanity of local music and musicians. The red chile, sadly, was less than satisfying. If one has a choice, one almost invariably wants their red to err toward thickness. On this particular burrito, it traipsed right into watery territory. Now, I’ve had more than my fair share of breakfast burritos at Counter Culture, and this feels more like an anomaly, an off day—we all have them—but when you’ve just navigated that stressful parking lot and been unable to find a table outside on a beautiful day, something so trivial starts to feel like a bigger deal. The food’s been better, and it likely will be again; the bottomless coffee from Aroma, however, was pitch perfect and just what we needed, and nobody went home feeling unfed.
Alex De Vore
Sopaipilla Café
2900 Cerrillos Road Unit B, (505) 474-1448; Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner Monday-Saturday; Breakfast and Lunch Sunday
I’ll be the first to tell people not to sleep on the restaurants in the so-called weird locations like a strip mall, a gas station or, in the case of newly opened New Mexican joint Sopaipilla Café, attached to a Days Inn down Cerrillos Road. This is the exact definition of a locals’ haunt, the sort of restaurant that visitors who happen to be staying at Days Inn might discover, but that the downtown “We’re here to spend thousands on art!” folks will likely miss. It’s also an excellent example of simple New Mexican items done exceedingly well, a spot that dreams up specials regularly and fresh, delicious guacamole with just the right chunky-to-creamy contrast.
First off, the guacamole appetizer ($8.50) proved a real treat, both in how avocado-forward it was and in how the restaurant didn’t do that thing where they stuff a piece of lettuce underneath in an effort to give the illusion of enough guac. Here, the portion was generous, and the chips came slightly warm, a small but vital detail that everyone I’ve ever met loves far more than seems possible for chip temperatures. My dining companion was not particularly hungry, but definitely doubled down on chips, and good for them!
Tragically, Sopaipilla Café did not have a breakfast burrito on the menu, which is what I’d been searching for, and while much of the menu is meat heavy (including seafood), I opted for the huevos rancheros, Christmas ($10.50), and the promise of stuffing the eggs and the sides of beans and rice into my sopa. A wise choice. Whoever’s cooking at Sopaipilla Café truly knows the meaning of eggs over easy. And when I broke those yolks into my melange of chile and beans and posole, they intertwined into that all-important New Mexican food moment of harmony. This obviously comes down to seasoning, chile fluctuations, egg type and chef skill, but once I crammed anything and everything from my plate into that tantalizing pillow of dough, it became something else entirely. Who among us doesn’t love a stuffed sopaipilla? Even so, they’re often filled with meat or beans, end of list. Having MacGyver’d my own breakfast stuffed sopa, though, I have to wonder why it’s not just a thing everyplace.
Fingers crossed that someone somewhere works out how to do this regularly, but until such a time comes, you can finagle your own at Sopaipilla Café, and it’ll stand up to pretty much any other locally beloved eatery. There will be some among us who act a bit too hoity-toity about how this new spot sits in a spartan room or two beside a motel. Let them, I say. The rest of us are trying to get someplace real.
READ MORE: So You’re Looking For a Breakfast Burrito [Vol. 1] [Vol. 2] [Vol. 3] [Vol. 4] [Vol. 5] [Vol. 6]
