Around 25 years ago, my husband and I were flying somewhere for some trade show and I happened upon a copy of New Mexico magazine. On the cover was a dazzling photograph of an old mission church covered with snow, and it took my breath away. The article regaled the beauty of the high desert in winter and extolled the pleasures of Christmas in Santa Fe. We knew we had to see it for ourselves.
A couple of years later, we flew to The City Different, as the Santa Feans refer to their adobe city, on Christmas Day. Little did we know the rules that govern dispensing of alcohol on Christmas in a Catholic city. Very few places were open, and we had not made dinner reservations (really dumb) – every place was booked. Many were taking waiting list reservations, with a non-refundable credit card fee of $60. No bars were open. Forget it. We needed a drink, but more than that, we needed dinner. We felt a bit like Mary and Joseph on La Posada, looking not for shelter, but for food.
Finally, we found (this in the days before iPhones and smartphones of any kind) that the Hotel Santa Fe, owned by the Picuris Indian tribe, served a Christmas Day buffet dinner. We spoke to the Maitre ‘d, who agreed to put us on the waiting list for a $40 fee. Trudged on over there, not knowing what to expect. The line was long and we wanted a drink: sorry, no hard liquor on Christmas, only wine, but only if you are having a meal. I thought my husband was going to explode. The bartender found a clever gene he didn’t know he possessed, grabbed two empty plates and a couple of forks, thrust them in front of us and said, “Ok, what wine would you like to go with that?” Relieved, we tucked into the most wonderful domestic sparkling we had ever tasted: Gruet Blanc de Blancs. Evening rescued…
The buffet dinner that evening, consisting of wild game – roasted elk, quail, grilled buffalo and achiote-coated venison – and Native side dishes like roasted acorn squash, lima beans and quinoa, was magical, wondrously new to our palates and unforgettable in its earthy goodness. The hospitality of that hotel made us come back on our next journey. It also launched us on a new culinary track. We’d never before eaten New Mexico chiles, those savory just-hot-enough marvels that make your mouth water just thinking about them. I’ve ordered chile supplies from The Chile Shop in Santa Fe ever since, and delight in growing my own. We use them in almost every evening meal, and they are great in scrambled eggs.
A highlight of that first trip was a visit to the Zia Diner, where I ordered a spicy chipotle chicken pizza, having no clue what it was – I thought I was going to die! But after a few bites and a few belts of beer, I began to savor the heat, the smoky sweetness, the incomparable flavor of chipotle, which are essentially smoked jalapenos. That moment was a true food epiphany for me.
We just completed our fourth visit to Santa Fe this year for Christmas, this time staying at a great casita on Garcia Street, managed by Santa Fe Stay. It was cozy and well-appointed, with all the special touches that make a southwest home.
Santa Fe, the city itself, has a magic about it that is hard to describe, kind of like the feeling you get when you take a sip of a wine that is even better than you anticipated, or getting that gift you wanted in your heart of hearts on Christmas morning. 
Walking down Canyon Road with the thousands that gather each Christmas Eve, is special and brings that feeling of pilgrimage that unites a disparate group of people who just for a moment in time, all sing the same hymn, in the chilly mountain air.
Bonfires, called luminarias, appear at the base of Cottonwood trees, and people warm their hands over the pungent juniper and pinon logs as they swig hot chocolate, or beer, or whatever.
Every single driveway, adobe wall, building and sidewalk is lined with farolitos: these are small brown paper bags with tops turned down, and inside each a votive candle, anchored by sand. Simple, elegant and magical. The entire town lights their farolitos only on Christmas Eve.
To see the outline of the city glowing against a starry night is truly a sight to behold. And to hear the church bells in the towers of the St. Francis Cathedral, pealing out Christmas carols, is an incomparable experience. It’s worth the pilgrimage. You, too, might have an epiphany in The Land of Enchantment.
{ 1 comment }
