#172 | Everything Matters | | |
“If nothing matters, there is nothing to save,” writes Jonathan Safran Foer in Eating Animals. He’s quoting his grandmother, her words offered by way of explaining how she, a desperately hungry Jewish woman wandering through war-torn Europe, could have deigned to turn down an offer of food simply because it was pork.
What matters? is an eternal question; it’s also the question of the hour. The short answer, in our view, is everything. Beans matter, of course. Champagne too—both the official kind and the stuff made right here in New Mexico. The scent of roasting green chile. Eggs, coffee, corn. Feta from Tucumcari. Beef from Wagon Mound. Greens from Albuquerque. Landrace chile from Chimayó, rare as it is, might be ruled inessential by a governing body that doesn’t even know what it is and doesn’t care if the fake stuff is packaged under its name—but to a farmer laboring to revive that chile, it matters very much. Tortillas—which, by the way, the state house and senate unanimously voted to crown as New Mexico’s Official State Bread—matter too.
What we eat matters, and how, and where, and when. People—and we’re not trying to sound radical—matter too. And some of the people who matter to us are farmers. Not the ones raising five hundred acres of federally subsidized feed corn or a thousand acres of alfalfa—although they also matter—but the small guys, the ones farming half an acre, or three acres, or ten. This isn’t because small-scale farmers are more resilient during times of crisis—although, as we learned during the coronavirus pandemic, they are. It isn’t because they’re oh-so-romantically tuned into their place—although, in truth, they do tend to be. It isn’t just because some of them are our friends—although we’ve found them to be good friends to have.
Right now, as the US/global food system stands, small-scale farmers aren’t exactly critical to the food supply—although, from what we hear, their flocks seem to be faring better than those warehoused in the Chicken Belt. But they are, we think, critical to our community, our cuisine, even to the character of our state. There are about seven thousand farms under ten acres in New Mexico. They are in Mora and Anthony and Estancia, Socorro and Taos and Abiquiú; they are tucked behind homes in scruffy, urban Albuquerque. Only some of them are officially teaching farms, in the sense that they offer workshops or model methods—but isn’t every small farm a teaching farm?
A lot of those small farms have been touched by funding freezes, canceled grant programs, and dramatic pronouncements that call their very reason for being into question. People who run those farms, and people who run organizations that support small farms and ranches, whether through conservation programs that fund high tunnels and soil health or protect the cultural heritage embodied in our acequias, have lain awake at night wondering how to make it through. If you consider that the average farm income in New Mexico is around $30,000 a year, and most earn far less than that—well, a couple thousand dollars matters. And if your contract, as many of these contracts do, promises reimbursements for costs that your farm or organization has had to shoulder up front, even a three-month delay in payment can be catastrophic.
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In the world of small-scale agriculture, resilience has become a guiding principle. And as all clever growers know, true resilience is built upon biodiversity and interconnectedness—the things that keep a system, and a community, healthy and strong. Although it’s often some dramatically sudden end-times scenario (what preppers refer to as the “SHTF” moment) that gets imagined when one thinks about the need for agricultural resilience, the fact is that even robot takeovers move slower in reality than in the movies. The work of reimagining our current agricultural system lies not only in preparing for dire (and dryer) future scenarios but also in weathering actual, present-day conditions. Many farmers and ranchers in New Mexico are not working on their long-term plans right now; they’re tapping their emergency reserves. Their resilience is being tested now. And we—the consumers, the backyard gardeners, the people who donate and volunteer and show up to city council meetings—are a part of that resilience too.
Earlier this week, the New Mexico Coalition to Enhance Working Lands Summit met in Santa Fe to discuss, among other issues, how to roll with the punches of funding freezes and policy change. Groups like the New Mexico Acequia Association have put together tips for impacted farmers—including action their supporters can take too. You can also show your love for growers by showing up at the Downtown Growers’ Market in downtown Albuquerque—their season starts today. And if you’d like to support local growers and build some resilience of your own, you could go buy a few chickens from Simple Revolution? Farm! at their chicken sale tomorrow.
By the way, if this newsletter brings brightness and ideas to your life, why not share it? It’s one of few gifts you can still give for free! Of course, if you love what we do at The Bite, you can always make a donation to help us keep the (virtual) presses running.
| | The pupusa was stuffed with black beans and lovely loroco, a deliciously greasy version, heartily filled, ribboned with crema and salsa ranchera, with two eggs, refried pintos, more plantains than we could eat, and a slew of curtido made from shaved carrots and cabbage—in short, a breakfast that could have fueled us to reroof a house. We sat in the homey side room, the vibe almost that of a sunroom or a patio, with folk-inspired art for sale on the walls, the radio tuned to a Spanish-language station, and considered that earthy-yet-sometimes-just-a-little-uppity Santa Fe is lucky to have the Tune-Up Café. We have rarely, if ever, ordered from the gringo side of the menu—why should we, when so many other establishments in the City Different fit that bill? And not that we needed to recover, exactly, from the two-hundred dollar dinner the night before, but this breakfast was a good balm, to be in a people’s place, quirky and real, open to all—a place that could exist only because people moved across borders, seeking something and bringing part of themselves along. | | |
Prairie Hill Café, the restaurant at the illustrious historic Plaza Hotel in Las Vegas, will be closing its doors on April 14, the owners announced on Facebook. Run by native Las Vegans Sara Jo Matthews and Ryan Snyder, Prairie Hill will be missed by tourists and local patrons alike, and will be remembered for—among other things—providing hot meals to evacuees and first responders during the Hermit’s Peak / Calf Canyon wildfire. Right around that time, Jason Conde did a sweet little profile of the spot for our sister mag.
Opening its doors back up for the season is Black Bird Saloon in Los Cerrillos. Still, they only operate Thursdays through Sundays, and have odd hours to boot—so check their website before you go so as not to be disappointed.
The aforementioned Plaza Hotel and the Castañeda Hotel are both going up for sale, as the Las Vegas Optic reports. The current owner, Allan Affeldt, has said that the hotels will operate as normal throughout the sale and that none of the staff will be impacted—although the Trackside dining room closed for the season last fall, never to reopen, so you’ll have to dine elsewhere in town.
Also for sale is the 377 Brewery in Albuquerque. Co-owners Cliff Sandoval and Fred Atencio opened the place in 2016 on the corner of Gibson and Yale, meaning it was the first stop for New Mexico beer for folks flying into the Sunport. If you’re looking for a career change, you can read more about the sale here.
Afghan Kebab House opened earlier this week, in the spot that used to be Knead Dough Bar in downtown Albuquerque. While we’re sorry we can no longer stop by to grab one of Chef Herrera’s doughnuts, kebab and qabuli palow will be a welcome addition to the local lunch scene and might just make up for it.
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Earth Day is April 22, but celebrations of the event—which was founded by Wisconsin Senator Gaylord Nelson in 1970—begin April 13, with an Earth Day Festival at Balloon Fiesta Park featuring talks on all things electric (plus growing vines for wine) and another at La Montañita Food Co-op’s Nob Hill location. Bicycles can be ridden to both destinations: The diversion trail will drop you off right at Balloon Fiesta Park, or just down Yale from Campus Boulevard, which leads straight to Nob Hill. In the East Mountains, Rumor Brewing hosts their Earth Day party on April 21, with promises of wildflower plant giveaways and a new beer release.
Tomorrow in Rio Rancho, K’Lynn’s Southern & Cajun Fusion is hosting a First Sunday event, with a special menu including fried chicken, yams, and smothered turkey wings.
On April 17, Santa Feans have a good excuse to dine out: Restaurants participating in the Angels Dine Out fundraiser event will donate 25 percent of your bill to Kitchen Angels, a nonprofit that delivers home-cooked meals to folks who are homebound or in hospice. Check the list of restaurants on the docket and make your reservation early.
Flock of Moons Brewing will once again host a celebration of sour beers on April 19, noon to 4 pm. The Fête de la Funk brings together breweries from Albuquerque and Santa Fe to showcase their most pucker-worthy beers. Purchase of a ticket gets you samples of all the beers and a full pour of your favorite—plus a commemorative glass, of course.
The Food Truck & Craft Beer Festival rolls up to Balloon Fiesta Park on April 19, with many local food trucks and breweries showing out. You can check out the list of all the vendors and get tickets here.
NOSA in Ojo Caliente has a wine dinner coming up, featuring five courses and five paired wines from the French distributor Skurnik. April 24, seating at 6 pm. These tend to sell out quickly, so grab your spots soon.
Also April 24 is a sherry pairing dinner at Santa Fe’s La Boca, featuring wines from Jerez, Spain. The menu includes grilled Spanish mackerel with pickled Dixon green rhubarb and hazelnut dust, a huitlacoche quesadilla, and rosemary caramel ice cream, among other treats that you almost certainly can’t get at home. Call 505-982-3433 for reservations.
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From the archives at our sister mag: Reflecting on his tour of tour of very small farms in Los Ranchos, former edible New Mexico and The Bite editor Willy Carleton wrote: “Very small farms can often create more biodiversity than larger small farms of the same total acreage, not only because economies of scale can discourage biodiversity on the larger farms but also because many very small farms means many visions, many ways of thinking, many approaches to similar issues. Beyond this, I was reminded of how much even the smallest farms invest back into the community and the land, creating networks of neighbors getting to know each other in mutually supporting, nourishing ways.”
Jennifer C. Olson breaks down the gustatory offerings on Highway 180 in “Mountain Menus.”
Just one New Mexico business progressed from the semifinalist to the nominee round of the James Beard Awards (Why name finalists nominees? is a question we cannot answer). No chefs or bakers from our humble state are on the list, but Campo’s beverage program is. Key to that program is the house-made gin—a topic Tom Hudgens investigated for us last fall.
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Mission
The Bite satisfies a hunger for provocative, artful, community-minded, diverse stories about the raw, the cooked, the distilled & the fermented. We strive for inclusion and a wide range of perspectives in our coverage of the New Mexico food and drink industry, sparking readers to veer out of their comfort zones and into the open territory of the region’s culinary landscape.
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