Santa Fe with a side of Frito Pie

Santa Fe, New Mexico is a lovely town. The weather is warm, but not too hot. The adobe-style houses nestled into the hillsides around the city seem to fit perfectly with the natural scenery. There are parks scattered throughout Santa Fe, with benches to sit on and hanging flower pots above. Downtown is full of small shops and art boutiques displaying photographs, paintings, and sculptures. You could easily spend a pleasant few days strolling around town, window shopping and browsing. And then, of course, there is the Frito Pie.
Dorothy and I decided, before setting off on this trip, that when we ate out, we would try to eat the local cuisine of whichever place we found ourselves in at the time. That meant deep-dish in Chicago, barbecue in Memphis, po’boys and jambalaya in New Orleans, etc… Well, New Mexico’s culinary contribution to American cuisine is without a doubt, the one, the only, Frito Pie. The dish is deceptively simple for such a full-frontal assault on the taste-buds: It consists of Frito chips buried under a thick blanket of chili and cheese, all topped off with diced onions. On our drive to Santa Fe, we would pass billboards which screamed at us: “Try New Mexico’s world famous Frito Pie!!! You won’t be sorry!” Really? I won’t be sorry? I’ll let my bowels be the judge of that.
There was no question that we had to have it. What we still needed to decide was where to get it. After much deliberation and extensive research, we found that there was really only one place that would do…



And then we had it…



But wait, you say, that just looks like a regular bag of Frito chips. Oh but you’re wrong. Look closer, my friends, and the secret of the Five and Dime Frito Pie will reveal itself to you in all of its glory and wonder…



That’s right. You’re eyes do not deceive you. All of it—the fritos, and the chili, and the cheese, and the onions—are piled together inside of the chip bag itself. The bag itself! It’s genius or maybe it’s madness. It’s something at least…there’s no denying that.

Sitting under the florescent lights at the back of the Five and Dime, I held my very first slice of Frito Pie heaven. Did I feel it was nothing less than my solemn duty to eat New Mexico’s finest creation? Yes. Did I feel slightly ashamed and dirty that I was shoveling it into my mouth? Of course. Was I worried that the molten hot chili was slowly melting the inner-lining of the Frito bag into the terrifying concoction that I was presently consuming? Absolutely. Would my taste buds, during that unrelenting onslaught, have been able to tell if the lining was, in fact, melting into the “food”? Not a chance.

Frito Pie…simply the best.