El Nido takes on a new persona
Back in the day… I’m finding myself doing it more, and boring the nice young lady behind the impressive, large bar the other night at the expansively renovated and resurrected El Nido Restaurant in enchanting Tesuque. She indulged my recall of a couple of wild nights in the latter ’70s or early ’80s coming up to El Nido from Taos with friends, and rock and roll, and Grand Marnier margaritas. A bit louche in my recollection, and the perfect venue for low life and high art.
The recollection was occasioned by the look and feel of the big, beautifully restored premises. Louche no more, and rather like the refurbished El Farol.
First, there isn’t a small, dark room in the place. Large, open and well-lit is the order of the day, beginning with the front room, probably double the size that it formerly was; an open kitchen and grilling station with pizza oven, and open pecan and apple wood-fired grill, chickens roasting; the imposing bar area in the next room, a long bar, huge liquor cabinet, impressive selection of tequilas and mezcals, red leather booth-lined walls; and, beyond, a smaller, room in dramatic black and white, and through the bar, the outdoor patio for dining and drinking.
Perfect setting, perfect ambience, perfectly upscale now, like Tesuque today. We selected nothing from the wildly exotic list of cocktails (a $12 Blueberry Lavender Greyhound, anyone?), but a nice Pinot Noir to go with three main courses.
The Penne Lisce ($20, “lisce” means “smooth”) all-natural chicken breast with wild arugula, sundried tomatoes, Parmigiano, and chipotle cream sauce. Like the Cubs’ starting rotation this year, looks good on paper but, in execution, unfortunately, the two main ingredients were lacking. The chicken breast was dry and the pasta, not too difficult even on a slow night, was a bit crusty. Not to our taste.
The Lamb and House-made Pappardelle Pasta ($23) made a better impression, with a tangy local braised lamb ragu, a little heavy perhaps on the rosemary, topped with generous chunks and flakes of Parmigiano.
The Black Sea Carbonara ($24) squid ink spaghetti, with tiger shrimp, a carbonara sugo of egg, cream, Parmigiano, bacon, green peas, onion and black pepper, we never got to taste as the person who ordered it took a very keen, proprietary interest in his dish. Either he was famished or it was great, or both.
(Still, it must be added here that there is a right way and a wrong way to do things, and cream in a carbonara is NEVER done. And let’s throw a little shade on the squid ink pasta. In general, Santa Fe restaurants skimp on, of all things, the least expensive item in such
a dish, the pasta. Throw in a few more noodles, please? And Rome’s carbonara with a squid ink pasta, a Venetian dish? But judging by my friend’s reaction, it all worked out.)
There is something so counterintuitive about an Italian restaurant in the new El Nido in the new Tesuque that it becomes counter-counterintuitive. It’s a stretch and defies the historic, if not gastronomic, imperatives. So why resist?