The Cold Stuff—At this very moment, Albuquerque is exploding with smoothie-boba-snack places. It's strange. Just take a drive around the Northeast Heights and you'll witness it firsthand.
They’re called crawfish. Or is it a crayfish? Some people even go so far as to call them mudbugs. It just depends on where you live, really. In France, les écrivisses are the height of haute cuisine on many a Michelin-starred menu. Here, under the molting cottonwoods of the Rio Grande valley, we just call them crawdads. Dangle a chicken leg over an irrigation ditch and they'll come skittering towards you, ready for dinner.
There’s nothing like a day at the Albuquerque Biological Park with the kiddies. There are flowering gardens, a really cool tank filled with neon-lit jelly fish, a gift shop overflowing with plastic aquatic creatures, and tons--and tons--of children. The idea of offspring is still somewhat of a mystery to me, but as they are our youngest consumers and our future food connoisseurs, I figure spending a meal discovering what restaurants feed them wasn’t the worst idea I’ve ever had. (My meatloaf on a stick idea was actually the worst.)