The Shed
Isn’t that a great name for a restaurant? It lets you know you do not need a tie, for example. We waited a lllooonnnnnngggg time last night to eat our dinner there. While we waited I downed one of the best margaritas I’ve had in a long time along with bright and spicy salsa and smooth and flavorful guacamole, which all really hit the spot after a day of travel – first flying to Denver for the third time in 8 days (hello Concourse B!), then on to Albuquerque, then the drive up to Santa Fe. Why are we here? It’s spring break. We’ve never been. And we’re eventually going to make our way down to Marfa, Texas to see art and and lots of space and sky. Carlsbad Caverns, Roswell, and plenty of more space will occupy us on the way. And, of course, I’m hoping to eat plenty of chile-laced delights.
The Shed. It came highly recommended by locals. It did not disappoint. The best thing was some green chile stew, a cup of which my dashing husband and I shared to start. My red chile smothered enchiladas with a side of posole were pleasantly bitter from the chiles, which made the bits of onion taste sweet, and I ate the whole plate full of them, which is something I don’t usually do at restaurants.



