Okay, last time I had us in Albuquerque on August 7, our anniversary. We had just had a (rather disappointing) breakfast at what is normally one of our favorite coffee shops in town...the Slow Burn. But maybe they were having an off day. We’ll see if things are better next time we go. (1)
After that, we set out on our adventures for the day. Honestly, things were still a little complicated. We still had to decide on a restaurant for dinner. We discussed various options, and then, finally, Martha voiced a preference for El Pinto.
What’s that? you ask. Ah-ha, I respond. El Pinto is probably one of the most famous restaurants in the city. Personally, I like it. I have liked it for a very long time. It’s been in business for a good sixty years and when I was very small, my parents would take me there for lunches and dinners. We would go there on Saturdays or Sundays -- and, sometimes, after skiing at Sandia. Thus, it was at El Pinto’s that I learned to love chile rellenos and rolled tacos.
I will thus always associate the place with some of my happier moments in childhood... with the sound of my parents’ voices as they discussed politics or money or whatever, with the hush that comes when food is delivered to your table, hot and steaming, and good...and with, afterwards, the taste of honey in hot, brown, crispy sopapillas...
About the photos: First, a shot of the city at sunset from the foothills. This was from back in 2018. Second, from 2019, a shot I got in Albuquerque’s Old Town. I thought the collection of saints and statues for sale in a bundle was kind of fun. And, finally, Martha in Old Town on our most recent visit.
Okay, honestly compels me to confess that you will encounter among some New Mexicans hostility toward El Pinto. That’s because it is seen, by *some* New Mexicans, as “all touristy,” as I heard it called once. I have, in fact, been laughed at...once or twice...for wanting to go there. I’ve been told that my fondness for the restaurant only proved that I wasn’t a “real” New Mexican.(2)
Well...okay. Maybe I am not a “real” New Mexican, whatever the hell that means. Just as, right now, I’m not a “real” Texan, and before that, I wasn’t a “real” New Englander. But, you know what? I don’t care. My authenticity does not require anyone’s approval. And if I’m never a native, always a tourist, that’s fine, too. It just means that I am constantly in motion. Therefore, I will not apologize for my pleasures, so long as they hurt no one. And that includes going to El Pinto, or anywhere, if that’s what I wish to do.
But, getting back to my story. Martha and I had gone frequently to El Pinto when we lived in New Mexico. We liked the food. And, in addition to that, it is one of the most beautiful restaurants you’ll ever experience. It is in an enormous adobe building, with dining areas inside and outside. You can take your pick. Pretend that you’re in a gorgeous Hacienda of a hundred years ago, or dine under the stars, if the weather cooperates.
So, I was not surprised when Martha expressed a preference for El Pinto. I wondered if we should make a reservation. It seemed unnecessary. We would be eating early. And it was a weeknight -- a Wednesday, to be precise. And I remembered that when we lived in New Mexico, we could usually get a table with only a minimal wait, at least for lunches.
But...well, why not? I got online and made a reservation on the webpage. To my surprise, the system only let me make a reservation for after seven o’clock. That surprised me and I figured there had to be some sort of glitz in the system. I figured that if we really wanted to, we could show up at five thirty or six and we’d get seated without a reservation. But, well, what the heck? I conferred with Martha and after some discussion we settled on the seven o’clock spot.
Then, we headed off for a bit of an adventure during the day. We went to Old Town, of course. I’ve written about it a lot of times, so I won’t go into detail. Suffice to say that we had fun hitting the shops. We went to the Albuquerque Photographers' Gallery, a photographer’s co-op shop we usually hit while we’re there. And, as frequently happens, we got lucky and found a beautiful shot of wildflowers which we bought knowing that it would be an excellent birthday present for our daughter-in-law.(4)
We returned to the AirB&B and decided to rest before dinner. Martha went to the front room to do some reading. And I had to run to the bathroom for ...well...er, ah...obvious reasons. And the aforesaid reasons have nothing to do with taking a bath.
And, so, I’m standing there...doing my thing...and I realized that my nose was running freely. That wasn’t a surprise. I’m not a man of constant sorrow...but I can claim fairly consistent allergies. Nothing I wasn’t used to.
Ergo, I fumbled with one matter in one hand, and reached for a tissue with the other.
Which was when I discovered...that...ah...oh, dear...oh, my...oh, phooey...
It wasn’t just allergies.
And I looked like something out of the final stanza of Mack The Knife.(5)
More to come.
Footnotes:
1. The coffee was excellent. But the pastries were incredibly sweet and not very appetizing. You might say they were ...wait for it...Pita Pain. Ha ha ha ha ha...
Um. Still not working, huh? Ah well. Better luck next time.
2. The first time I realized that this kind of bullying existed was years and years ago, when I was on a business trip to San Francisco. I was attending a conference and trade show there, all about the UNIX operating system. One morning, I happened to have a conversation with another attendee who asked me what I’d done the night before. I said I’d gone out for dinner at such-and-such a restaurant. He burst into laughter. “...well known tourist trap,” he said. I was startled and, at first, a little offended. But, then I realized the truth of the situation. Was his ego really so fragile that he had to score a point over me for not being as San Franciscan as he was? Seemed rather pathetic to me then, and seems more so now.
3. Albuquerque Photographers' Gallery has a webpage here: abqphotogallery.com and a facebook page here: https://www.facebook.com/abqphotogallery/
4. Not one of our more successful presents, alas. Note: never give art to people who are accomplished artists. They have strong opinions ...which may not mesh with what you think is a pretty picture.
5. Actually, truth be told, my condition wasn’t much like the final stanza of “Mack the Knife,” at least not the version that Bertolt Brecht added in 1931, which reads, “There are some who are in darkness/And the others are in light/And you see the ones in brightness/ Those in darkness drop from sight.”
It was more like the first stanza of the 1954 English translation by Marc Blitzstein and as performed by Bobby Darin in 1958. The one with “Scarlet billows start to spread.”
If you’re interested, here’s a link to the Wikipedia article on the song: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mack_the_Knife
And here’s Bobby Darin performing the song: https://youtu.be/ygVgxGSQIsw?si=vX9QuYTydmG1LjdT
Oh, and for an interesting cover, here’s Ella Fitzgerald doing her version: https://youtu.be/wYaEVSjg5BE?si=Uxrr1iBqA0GnSzE8
Copyright©2025 Michael Jay Tucker
Wanna Hangout?
I’ve decided to launch a newsletter to keep you in the loop with everything I’m working on--new blog posts (“The Martha Plus Michael Chronicles”), books, short stories, videos, and all my other projects.
Just go to the following webpage and enter your email address in the space provided:
I’ll keep you updated on all my newest projects! And, to sweeten the deal, I’ll be posting some exclusive content that can only be accessed by subscribers to this newsletter.
So, type in your email address now! And let’s get things moving!
~mjt
Comments