Thus far, I’ve known precisely two things to be true of Santa Fean Jonathan Boyd: He’s a woodworker who crafts fine furniture, and he kickstarted nonprofit Vital Spaces (an org that leases otherwise vacant buildings then sublets space within them to artists at affordable rates)—from which he stepped down a few years back to make room for musician/activist Raashan Ahmad to become executive director. We can add a third thing to the Boyd List™ now, however, as he’s recently opened a new restaurant on Hickox Street called Leo’s (1200 Hickox Street, leossantafe.com).
Unless you’ve been living in the arroyo in recent months, you’ve surely heard about Leo’s. There’s not really a discernible sign from the road or anything, but if you’ve driven down Hickox in the evening lately, you’ve surely seen the lines outside. Anyone who’s anyone has dined at Leo’s and has subsequently been moving about town with a not-so-subtle smirk and a prepared statement about how good the food tastes.
Boyd’s new spot in the former Boyd & Allister furniture studio finds chef Zakary Pelaccio manning the kitchen and a beautifully appointed/Insta-ready interior dripping with cute amongst its community tables and bar seating. It is, in a word, gorgeous inside Leo’s, and other than how the blasting music made me feel about 1,000 years old every time I asked my companion to repeat what they’d just said, only louder, I can certainly see what the fuss is about.
Of course, the host told us we’d have to wait an hour to be seated, and this came a mere 15 minutes after Leo’s opened its doors at 5 pm. They don’t take reservations, which is admittedly irksome, but given the small space with which Boyd and Pelaccio are working, it makes a certain kind of sense—you’ve got to weed out the people who truly want the food versus those who just want to be seen or post online about how very tuned-in they are when it comes to local food. Oh, but it’s worth being seen at Leo’s. Even on a Thursday evening, early, we spied no shortage of Santa Famous diners, and a certain Righteous Gemstones star whom I won’t name because I’m cool like that. Wait or no, Leo’s can still boast a rather nice back patio where the hungry throngs can snag a quick drink from the full bar while waiting for a seat to open up.
Alex De Vore
And so we did, but with San Pellegrino because we’re not big drinkers (even if Leo’s drinks like the palmetto with rum, dolin rouge and malacca bitters sounded phenomenal or the Wind in Your Sails cocktail with Japanese vodka, watermelon and sparkling wine sounded so refreshing that I’m still thinking about it nearly a week later). This allowed for some nice conversation and that good old-fashioned amuse known as delayed gratification. Hunger is the best spice, so they say, and the anticipation highlighted something that Leo’s currently has in spades—the bandwagon effect. Think of marketing genius PT Barmum, who coined the phrase, and how he knew that making folks semi-ravenous for something would give others FOMO. Leo’s has long waits and precious few seats; the sign is all but hidden; all your friends are talking about it; they don’t take reservations; you have to work for it…these things make it special, or at least intriguing.
First off, let me be clear that our bartender/server Isabella was a pure delight. We’re talking no-pressure friendliness rooted in a subtext that she simply wanted us to be enjoy our evening. Give this woman a raise, Boyd. Seriously, though, the service was top-notch from the host, Chico, to Isabella, and said stellar service softens the waiting blow nicely. Of course, good service can’t super-duper help when you’re staring down a menu that features a number of delicious-sounding dishes. Leo’s offerings are concise, but exciting. Catfish sum tum with green papaya, carrot, red onion and mint? Pork belly with a garlic prik phao (think jelly, sort of), fried egg and mint? A freaking lamb shank curry dish with pickled mustard greens? How do you contend with that? We decided to focus on the hits as deemed by anecdotal evidence from friends, however, which meant the beef satay with beef sourced from New Mexico’s Lazy 6 Ranch and served with a Malay peanut sauce and a number of pressed/lightly crispy rice cubes ($18) and the fried chicken with a fermented tofu-mustard sauce and jiao chili sauce on the side ($15 for the half order with two pieces, $26 for the full order of four).
Now, the menu doesn’t call the satay’s rice side “cubes,” but that’s what they damn well are, and I loved them. They were a treat, dammit, and we’re only talking about rice here. All crunch on the outside and chewy on the inside, each cube complemented the beef satay brilliantly, both in terms of a texture counterpoint to the meat’s borderline impossible tenderness and its rich, buttery taste. The peanut sauce wowed, too, with just the right kick and nutty flavor to not outshine the beef, and there was enough on the plate to satisfy us both. On the side, a small ramekin of pickled fruits and veggies provided even more depth.
The fried chicken was similarly impressive and is easily now among the best our fair city has to offer. How many times have I ordered fried chicken only for the breading to slide off the meat upon the first bite? Too many. This isn’t a problem at Leo’s, however, as that breading is as adherent as it is golden-brown. Spice fans will surely love the jiao chili sauce, but the nuance of the tofu-mustard sauce won our hearts from its tangy start to its smooth finish. A good sauce augments rather than becoming an affair unto itself; this one could go on any number of foods and feel different yet subtle every time.
For dessert, we’d eyed the chocolate mousse with ginger, cashew and lime, but the intrepid Isabella recommended the pandan kek kaya with coconut jam. If you’ve never had pandan—which I admit I’d only eaten once before in San Francisco—the Southeast Asian plant has this sweet taste almost like vanilla with a little more oomph. It also smells incredible, but when used in cake form, you’ve got something that is not only beautifully green, but tastes not quite like anything you’ve tried before and feels so satisfyingly spongy. Our server suggested we spread the coconut jam on the cake like butter on toast, and she was absolutely right. The pandan was a brilliant capper to the evening, even if it felt a bit pricey at $13.
Of course, Leo’s isn’t perfect. The small space is a claustrophobic’s nightmare, as well the community seating might be for some. I also wonder if it has the staying power to remain so busy with winter around the corner. Pelaccio is clearly a creative chef with serious chops, but once we’ve all eaten there a time or two and the new feels die down, I’m hopeful he can expand the menu a bit. Still, if the popularity continues, I’m not even sure the space will be large enough to meet demand. But then, perhaps it’s more about doing food well than catering to anyone’s whims. Leo’s does its thing very well, and it’s surely on us to pick up what they’re laying down or move on—like how it’s only open 5-10 pm Thursday-Monday. Either way, Boyd and Pelaccio have a lot to be proud of, and I’m just psyched to get another upscale Asian spot in our sleepy little city.
