Homing in on the Range

I had so much fun having dinner at the Range Cafe on Menaul (location #3) in Albuquerque, that I had to arrange my departure from Santa Fe to allow a late lunch at the original Range Cafe on historic Route 66 in Bernalillo. My boss has been giving workshops on creative visualization of prime parking spots, and this time her technique worked. I saw myself parked in front of the Range, and sure'nough there was a parallel parking spot by the front door with my name on it. I even parallel-parked in only one try, and I can't remember when last THAT happened!

Walking into the cafe I felt washed over with a warm and timeless vibe. This place feels like it was there before the beginning, and will be there after the end. The word that sprang to mind from my high school Greco-Roman history (not wrestling) class was omphalos; the center, the navel of the world. How strangely wonderful to feel totally at home in a place one has never been!

Now in Albuquerque I had the Hoosier pork tenderloin sandwich, and I had expected to have another one. I'm sort of the poster child for vanilla ice cream. "Food" and "unknown" and "try" are not words that meet in my language. My normal menu anxieties were far, far away. You might like to read The Range Cafe menu. What sounds good to you?

I ordered a chef salad even though it contained a previously untasted vegetable, jicama. Tasted it bravely and boldly and liked it. So don't say I wasn't adventurous on this trip! Then I had an orgasmic piece of Roadhouse Chocolate Cake, which is as close to getting lucky as I could do for you ladies.... If you had tasted it you would know why I bought the souvenir t-shirt!

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