Look, I get it—Eldorado eatery Arable was a banger, and chef/owner Renée Fox built something amazing and delicious out there. I mean, her work at Loyal Hound (rest in power, beignets!) was pretty astonishing, too. But after making the drive to the Santa Fe subdivision for a dinner at new-ish spot Fable Restaurant & Market the other night, I must say that it’s a strong contender for my ever-rotating personal Top 5 list alongside the likes of Palacio, Bistro 315, Zacatlán and Dinner For Two.
And I promise I have a lot of good things to say, but wanted to get my nitpicky feelings out of the way first—namely that I find it quite silly how Fable includes the qualifier “market” in its name. We’re talking a couple things of eggs, a few loaves of bread, some single-sized chip bags and a small bumber of other things like chili oil. I get it, truly, and have enjoyed businesses like Bread Shop and Ozu offering up their own small handfuls of elevated grocery items. Fable, though, might be better served by doubling down on the restaurant part. In the center of the dining room, for example, you’ll find a community table taking up space that could easily accommodate a few more two-tops. I’m not trying to backseat drive or anything, I’m just saying Fable might need more seating soon to keep up with demand once more folks learn it’s out there.
Alex De Vore
To wit, my companion and I arrived a mere few minutes before our reservation to discover our table was not ready. This is hardly a big deal and not a complaint in any way, especially since it gave us some time to sit at the bar and absorb the ambiance. Fable’s menu screams fine dining, but its ambiance is jeans-friendly and rustic. There you’ll find bare wood tables with nicks and bruises rather than white tablecloths, though the wine glasses hit the table as a matter of protocol, so you know they fancy. The slight wait also gave us a chance to peruse the mocktail list. Don’t worry—Fable has numerous wines and alcoholic cocktails, but as I’ve said in the past, it’s frustrating to be a teetotaler in search of a quality non-alcoholic beverage only to come across a $10 bit of cranberry juice served with soda and a lime wedge. At Fable, the mocktails are thoughtful and refreshing. We sampled a serrano and honey tonic, as well as a blueberry seltzer infused with thyme and garnished with a little thyme sprig ($8 each). The former was practically a margarita, right down to the salted rim; the latter was a refreshing and just barely sweet concoction that almost worked like an amuse by perking up my tastebuds and preparing them for the stacked menu.
Owner/chef Paul Wireman has built something special alongside his co-owner/life partner Jessica Wireman and fellow chef Calvin Lazo. Fable’s menu is concise but exciting throughout, especially since it actually has options for vegetarians (not that I am one, but I still think they deserve a nice meal). Perhaps this is about pedigree. Wireman came up in restaurants in Wyoming, most notably among them Trio An American Bistro and Local Restaurant & Bar. Despite the absurd number of words in that name, Wireman clearly learned a thing or two. That’s also where he connected with Lazo, who came to Santa Fe to kick ass in the kitchen.
And so they did. We began with a pair of appetizers, including charred bread sourced locally and served with pureed garlic and a roasted heirloom tomato jam ($10). If you’re one of those people who love when your toast ends up burnt, you’ll adore this app beyond all reason, particularly the more subtle notes of the tomato jam. Therein, we found the slightest bite which, when paired with the garlicky tang, felt so simple yet so transcendent—like when someone tells you something that seems so obvious after they mention it. Wireman and Lazo also had a potato leek soup as a special that night ($11). Why is it so hard to find this particular dish in Santa Fe of late? And why was Fable’s the best we’ve had in some time? Potato leek is a soup you want thick, and in case you’re wondering, though I don’t know why you would be, it was totally edible with a fork. That’s, thick, baby, and also an earthy love letter to the tuber that somehow hit the right creamy notes without straying into too-much territory.
The entrees proved a struggle for both me and my companion. He doesn’t eat meat often, which sort of ruled out the fried chicken, bison short ribs and burger options. Luckily, Wireman and Lazo have both a pasta with local seasonal veggies and house-made noodles on the menu, plus a vegetarian cassoulet with local beans, carrots, kale, micro greens and oyster mushrooms ($28). I know that will likely thrill some Mille fans as the downtown French restaurant has phased cassoulet out for the summer; and you should know that Fable’s ranks among the tastiest versions of the dish I’ve found here or anywhere. I’m comfortable pinning the accolades on the oyster mushrooms, as the kitchen’s treatment seemed to bring out every flavor note possible from the fungi—earthiness and an almost buttery flavor alongside the slightest hint of citrus and cinnamon. Even if you don’t eat for a living and sit there trying to pick out flavors, you’ll find something that works for devout carnivores and vegetarians alike.
I, meanwhile, toiled with the thought of fried chicken for a good 20 minutes before finally deciding upon the filet of beef ($39), a hand-cut bit of steak served with shaved asparagus and a small but delicious tarragon salad, plus a poached duck egg for a little extra oomph ($39). Hear me now and believe me that this filet was an absolute revelation, from the pinkish insides of the medium cook to the crusty sear on its exterior. Soft in the right places and with just the right amount of chewiness, this filet bordered on sweet, and the creamy, rich duck egg was somehow the only thing that could make it even better. Yes, the filet comes small, but it packs a punch and is plenty satisfying; or, as I put it to my companion after I’d scarfed the plate clean, I would always rather miss someone or something than be sick of it. Bravo on the filet, Fable, truly.
We closed the night with coffee roasted locally at Odd Box, plus a fleeting blueberry crumble dessert special served with a honeyed whipped cream. The coffee? Delicious and just the right meal capper. The crumble? An absolute triumph of tangy-sweet fresh blueberries and a spelt-like crumbly top. With the honey flavor of the whipped cream complementing the natural sweetness of the blueberry, we found a bliss I’ve not experienced from a restaurant dessert in a minute. Fable gets high marks for offering a treat that wasn’t wildly sugary, too.
And it all came with flawless service. Our server Jake was an absolute delight, both in how he didn’t give us the faux-kind waiter spiel and in how quickly and efficiently he moved and brought our selections. By the end of the night, we even chatted him up a bit to learn more about the place. According to Jake, folks are still getting used to a spot like Fable in Eldorado. Once word spreads, though, I’m fairly certain the Wiremans and crew will have a bonafide hit on their hands. That’s just great—now I’ll have to drive out to Eldorado regularly.
