Way back in 1994, when my family still lived in Los Angeles, a particularly intense earthquake was followed by a declaration from my mother: “We can’t live here anymore.”
What followed was a pair of trips to Portland, Ore., and Santa Fe to decide where the family De Vore would land for the future. And though I often wonder what kind of piece of shit I might be had my family made its way to the Pacific Northwest rather than this town I love so much, the main memory I have is of a dinner in Española during our stay.
The restaurant of which I speak has long since closed, and I can’t recall its name, anyway. But I will forever have a vision of my father, in an attempt to learn about and embrace the local cuisine, hunched over a massive plate of carne adovada. He’d asked the waiter what they recommended and ordered precisely that. It remains a cherished memory: My dad, having never eaten red chile in his life, sweating and on the verge of tears from a newfound spiciness. Yet he couldn’t stop. In fact, he cleaned his plate and even said he could’ve kept going because it tasted so good. I’ve been a carne adovada convert ever since; and even now, when I’ve aged to the point that my gut wants to fight me for every non-plain meal I ever eat.
As I say, I can’t recall the name of that restaurant, but I’ve been on a hunt for the best carne adovada ever since then. The good news? I’ve almost never had bad carne adovada around here. I mean, the dish is simple: Pork slow roasted in red chile. The nuance and difference from place to place comes in with additional spices. Is it garlic-heavy? What about cumin? Are we talking a grainier red chile, or a more sauce-like consistency? Every restaurant has its own little takes and versions, and for the seasoned carne adovada pro, no two taste quite alike.
Now that we’re three decades on from that first experience, though, I finally feel comfortable enough in the breadth of carne adovadas I’ve tried to narrow down my favorite in the city. Partly, this piece is for posterity and to selfishly mentally revisit the look on my father’s face when the time-delayed spice of chile kicked in on that Española night so long ago. The other part is because people ask me nearly every day where the best bites around town might be, and I’ve been reflecting on what a privilege and responsibility that is. What’re my favorite carne adovada dishes in town, you ask? Well, let me just tell you…
Stuffed Carne Adovada Sopaipilla @Atrisco
193 Paseo de Peralta, (505) 983-7401
I must admit Tomasita’s sister restaurant mainly came onto my radar as a place to eat on Sundays when LA Choza was closed, but after wending my way through some classic enchiladas, a surprisingly killer green chile cheeseburger and a reliable bean and cheese burrito, I found myself there one Sunday evening and dying for some carne adovada. I went for the brass ring with the stuffed sopaipilla with carne adovada, and it’s been a regular cheat meal kind of thing for me ever since then. Atrisco’s red is what I might call thicc, and its fresh sopas are always flaky and just right. With beans and rice (or posole) on the side, it’s the type of meal that can sustain you for quite some time, too.
Stuffed Carne Adovada Sopaipilla @Adelita’s
3136 Cerrillos Road, (505) 474-4897
Back in 2022, when we were all still pandemic-ing hard, sometimes-SFR writer Stephanie Thompson and I scheduled a lunch meeting for which they suggested Adelita’s. “They have a nice patio, and I’m still nervous about eating near other people,” they said. I’d shamefully never been there before that day, but I discovered Adelita’s stuffed sopa was within the city’s Top 10 for sure. In fact, I opined in print at the time, I should have eaten there a lot sooner. And though Adelita’s proclaims itself a Mexican restaurant, it does New Mexican so well and also boasts some of the fluffiest rice and most complex red chile I’ve tasted in my life.
Carne Adovada Enchiladas @Casa Chimayo
409 W Water St., (505) 428-0391
I’m sorry to bring up something I so recently reviewed (A Very, Very, Very Fine House; Oct. 29), but now that I’m a full-on Casa Chimayo convert, people need to know how important it is to try the carne adovada enchiladas from chef Joaquin Quintana. Let’s recap: Quintana is the guy behind Bella’s in Taos, and when his family bought Casa Chimayo in 2023, they brought the whole operation down here. As I said in my review, I was a bit gobsmacked that I’d never seen carne adovada in enchilada form before, especially since I’ve seen plenty of plates that feature the adovada beside or on top of enchiladas, but now that I’ve tasted it in place of beef or cheese or chicken, it seems so obvious. We get a little funny about traditional dishes and how they’re served in Santa Fe, and I get that we like our adovada in pile form—I’m just saying that Quintana’s red is subtly sweet yet just garlicky enough, and the thought of that in tandem with slow-roasted pork is just too good.
Carne Adovada Burrito @Los Amigos
3904 Rodeo Road, (505) 438-0600
The Santa Fe restaurant world tends to keep a strange focus on downtown, which is all well and good because tourists pay a lot of our bills, but it kind of overlooks what folks are doing on the Southside, in Midtown and over on Rodeo Road. Maybe it’s better those places are more for us locals, but I still need everyone to know that Los Amigos makes a real banger carne adovada burrito, and it’s one of the more affordable full-on New Mexican restaurants in town. Los Amigos has the kind of red that’s a little more sauce-like than thick, but it works in this instance, especially since they serve up some of the most tender pork I’ve ever eaten. I liked the burrito so much after my first try, in fact, that I had to get it a couple more times to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. It was not. Even cooler, the portions of pork are so generous the restaurant serves its adovada with a steak knife to help diners keep it real. Don’t worry if you don’t eat it all, too, because you’ll never be sad about next-day breakfast when you’ve got leftover carne adovada.
