For four and a half years, the faithful have been going to Santa Fe Station, just north of the Long Beach Airport and which supposedly goes through Hatch chiles the way McDonald?s goes through McNuggets. You will find fajita platters on the menu, and fried zucchini, and Cajun shrimp. Stacked enchiladas, tortillas piled on one another like LPs on an old phonograph spindle, are awash in chile and molten cheese, and garnished with a couple of fried eggs in case the bulk of the dish isn?t quite enough. But the green chili, a fairly magnificent bowl of earthy, pungent, roasted Hatch peppers, coarsely purAA(c)ed, stewed down with pork and thinned with a little broth, and served with a couple of sopapillas, is the real stuff. The musky, gravylike red is fine in its way, but Santa Fe Station is all about the green.
Photo by Anne Fishbein If you grew up in California in the ’80s, chances are pretty good that you first experienced New Mexican food not in a roadhouse outside Taos, but in the restaurants of John Sedlar and Mark Miller: mythical creations of... More »