Santa Fe Hotel: Plenty of Basque to go around

The busy battlefield during a Basque meal

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“T-minus 30 and counting” I whisper to my husband as he slips his debit card onto the server’s check tray. He knows by the look on my face that I have just begun a countdown of the next 30 minutes; the amount of time it will take to get home, unbutton my pants and slip into some leisure attire this Saturday night. We have just devoured a gargantuan Basque meal at the Santa Fe Hotel. The food was hearty and tasty, but after several courses we are miserably stuffed.

The diners at the long table behind us break out in “Happy Birthday to You” as a candle-lit cheesecake is carried from the kitchen like a sacred idol and placed before one of the happy women. We are singing along, but suffering the effects of what to us is a new phenomenon, the family-style Basque dining experience.

So it begins

We arrived around 7:30 p.m. and sat at the bar to try the signature drink – the Picon. An aperitif made with soda water, grenadine, brandy and Picon, an orange-flavored bitter. This drink packs a powerful punch. I broke out in a sweat as we stood in the dining room doorway waiting to be seated.

We were shown to one of many long tables covered with white and green checked table cloths and immediately received bread, wine and soup – made with a bean base – containing herbs and short spaghetti noodles. The wine was sweet and grapey and one swirl of the small glass told me it was like Dakota Fanning, young and sugary-sweet ("Coraline" is out Feb. 6, by the way).

Before we knew it, we were on to the next course, beans and salad. The salad was really just romaine lettuce with vinegar and oil dressing – light on the vinegar with some herbs. The beans were tasty – cooked just right, not hard or mushy – soft with good flavor.

Soon another couple joined us. They said this was their fifth visit to the Santa Fe and recommended the lamb chops. We had already ordered the lomo for him – a lightly breaded pork loin with red peppers and a 10-ounce New York Strip for me.

The next course was the lamb stew, which I thought was the best. The lamb was tender and the stew was hearty – lots of sauce to mop with the soft French bread – and chunks of potato and carrots. Well-seasoned and peppery, the stew could have been my whole meal. But wait- there’s more. I was stuffed and the entrée hadn’t even arrived yet.

The real food arrives

I was ready to call it quits when what should appear before me but a nice, juicy, perfectly cooked steak, marinated in olive oil and wine. It was thin, cooked to medium, lightly seasoned and delicious. To accompany this masterful meat – French fries. Long, skinny, freshly sliced and crispy – If only I had more room. I summoned the strength to try one bite of lomo – the first words that came to mind were “delicate” and “tender.”

The final course was a choice of ice cream or cheese. I had to take the cheese and a box for the rest of my steak. The cheese was milky, dry and mild. My husband, who we lovingly call “The Finisher” because of his ability to consume all the food on his plate and everyone else’s, called for a doggie bag. At the Santa Fe Hotel, he had finally met his match.

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