Amuse-bouche La Reina & Coyote Cantina; cocktail books
COYOTE CA NTIN A & L A REINA
INJack Handey’s “Tales of Old Santa Fe,” a smattering of absurd anecdotes published in The New Yorker in 2014, the humorist tells the origin story of the $15 margarita. It concerns a local proprietor who hit upon the idea to sell the drink at that price point. “People all said he was crazy. But he explained he was going to make the margaritas with real Cointreau and fine añejo tequila. And he did. Sure enough, the fifteen- dollar margaritas sold faster ’n hotcakes.”
It’s funny because it’s pretty much true. At Coyote Café’s Rooftop Cantina (132 W. Water St., 505-9831615), a longtime margarita mecca, the Silver Coin tops out the list at $14; most cocktails on the menu hover around $12. But let’s face it: The elusive fivedollar margarita tends to t aste like sticky- sweet swill. And with expert mixologist and owner Quinn Stephenson steering the ship, the Cantina remains a tried-and-true hotspot for strong, well-crafted drinks and endlessly entertaining people watching.
The festive, colorful space overlooking Water Street opened in the mid-’ 90s as a casual summer bar offshoot of the storied Coyote Café, which former chef Mark Miller made a linchpin in the nationwide Southwestern cuisine boom of the late ’ 80s. Last winter marked the first year — with the addition of doors and heaters to the covered patio, as well as a robust seasonal menu — that the Cantina has stayed open through the colder months. The menu has been retooled to offer heftier entrees (skirt steak, enchiladas, burgers, a Cuban sandwich), tacos, and more creative small plates (pork-belly sliders with guava BBQ sauce, jicama slaw, and yucca chips), in addition to the usual bar menu suspects (jalapeño poppers, nachos).
On a weekday visit in late May, we were greeted with a warm vibe ginned up by booming reggaetón and a rotating trio of cheerful longtime servers — two of whom turned out to be sisters. The shrimp cocktail was presented Mexican-style ($11), in a tall parfait glass of (a tad too few) plump pink prawns swimming in Valentina hot-sauce-spiked tomato juice with floating diced avocado and onion. Since we were going all out on summer decadence, I drank a potent Coco Loco ($12), a frozen concoction of rum, vanilla, pineapple, brown sugar, and coconut that tasted like an alcoholic paleta. My associate opted for the more distinguished Gentleman’s Vice ($12), a bourbon Manhattan that arrived theatrically smoking with a cherrywood infusion. After drinking half of it, she pronounced it somewhat boring — at least in comparison to my party in a glass.
The star of this drinks show is the Norteño margarita ($9), a spicy-tart combo of tequila, Cointreau, lime, and Hatch chile juice that screams Santa Fe. The walu tostada ($15) from the ceviche bar, served with avocado and serrano aioli, will likely whet your appetite for another drink after you devour the salty, crunchy disc heaped with citrus-cured fish.
While we eyed the lurid animal figures in gangster gear that adorn the deck’s columns, we split the pork shoulder tamale ($9), a masa missile as big as a burrito that revealed a wealth of tender, delicately spiced shredded meat at its center. Satiated and hydrated, we leaned over the adobe wall that affords a prime view of downtown foot traffic, watching tourists heft newly acquired cow skulls and paintings while we played rounds of Who Would You Rather and Let’s Guess Who’s From Texas.
The mix of locals and visitors is one of the Cantina’s draws — you never know who you might run into up on the roof, or who you might meet for the first time. The same social principle holds true at La Reina
(1862 Cerrillos Road, 505-982-1931), the tragically hip bar that opened this spring at the revamped El Rey Court (formerly El Rey Inn). During a few stops at this Thursday-to-Sunday watering hole over the past month, I’ve renewed long-lost acquaintances, made new friends in town, and been both charmed and annoyed by visitors to our fair city.
The space that owners Jay and Alison Carroll have carved out beyond the new- old motor court’s lobby is a minimalist white-adobe wonderland with nods to Santa Fe Style. Above a kiva next to the bar, a hand-painted axiom — or directive — adorns the nicho: “Where fast lives slow down.” Another mantle is covered in a romantic (if messy) mantilla of dripping white wax from burning votives. One night, a soundtrack of ’70s Linda Ronstadt completed the throwback rich- hippie ambience; overheard conversations referenced recent stops in Berlin and Palm Springs.
The Carrolls arrived in Santa Fe by way of Joshua Tree, California — a Mojave Desert outpost that has been hipster-colonized over the past decade — and La Reina bears some telltale out-of-towner touches. More than one of the stark line drawings on the wall by artist John Zabawa, for instance, depict a saguaro cactus — not an identifying marker of Northern New Mexico, and a tone-deaf choice for a newly boutiqued hotel trying to impart a sense of place to its visitors. The word “Cerrillos” is misspelled on the beautifully designed bar coasters. A gorgeous patio adjoining the bar, with banquette seating lined with smart black-and-white-striped cushions and industrial castcylinder side tables, gives off an aesthetic that is more midcentury Southern California than Santa Fe.
Even more so than at Coyote Cantina, the drinks here are the main event. Most of the options on the tequila and mezcal-based cocktail list are worth the $12 or so you’ll pay for them. The signature La Reina ($12) blends hibiscus tea, Casamigos Reposado, Ilegal Mezcal, and Ancho Reyes, a chile-based liqueur, with a cinnamon- dusted rim. It’s a summer drink with a wintry soul. The Piña Picante ($12) is far superior to the house’s margarita ($10), which my associate and I found extra-sour and rather watery. The Picante packs a sweet-tart wallop, fusing pineapple juice, jalapeñoinfused tequila, and mezcal, served in a glass dusted with chile and salt.
With its mostly solid beverage program, careful renovation, and newly opened Swim Club (which, in the grand tradition of the Instagram era, is rumored to have bestowed some free memberships upon “local influencers”), it is no surprise that La Reina is fostering a nightly crowd laden with professional scenesters and beautiful people. The owners have voiced their plan for La Reina to employ only female bartenders, but head bartender Laurel Hunziker, a Shed veteran who helped to launch the place, has already moved on. Unfortunately, the remaining staff tends to impart brittle, myopic service. On two recent visits, I walked up to a sparsely populated bar only to be ignored for several minutes by relatively idle servers standing right in front of me. (It seemed more important to continue a conversation with one patron about Oaxacan tourism than to pour me the mezcal the bar stocks from that region.)
Local takes on La Reina may vary. One friend said she’s there a lot, as it’s the only bar a short walk from her apartment. “Most of my friends think it’s a silly place,” said a woman who was born and raised in Santa Fe. “I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s a necessary evil,” another lifelong resident wryly texted me.
Snacks are hard to come by, too — twice, the bar lacked the chile pistachios on the menu early in the evening. Happily, the big red Back Road Pizza truck (backroadpizza.com) is parking there on Thursdays starting at 6 p.m. After a couple innovative cocktails offset by icy bartenders and a clientele that might skew too cool for school, a $3.50 slice of Back Road’s succulent, cornmeal-studded thin-crust cheese pizza tastes like an old standby.