If you’re an East, West or Gulf Coastian homesick for good, fresh bivalve mollusks, weep no more. Suddenly Albuquerque is full of them. On the other hand, if you’re put off by the idea of eating this viscous morsel, I urge you to give it a try. It’s an acquired taste, but not so different from indulging in good sashimi at your favorite sushi bar or a well-made ceviche.
I ordered my first mangoneada because I thought it sounded vaguely like mango-lemonade, which seemed perfect on a warm day. Better Spanish speakers may have realized the word refers to an unscrupulous use of power, like graft or bribery. With my first slurp I began to see why. Mangoneadas are powerful and desirable. On a sunny day, you could bribe Satan with one.
Showcasing N.M.’s emerging artisanal cider industry in a unique environment. This festival amplifies the senses, from tasting local cider to pie eating, chuckwagon cooking, film screening, photography and likely some two-stepping or line dancing.
Whether you’re more familiar with the French Riviera or the French Quarter, there are plenty of places in Albuquerque to get a taste of authentic French cuisine. Read Hosho McCreesh’s review of Le Quiche Parisienne in this issue, and check out these other restaurants in the city that will cater to your wanderlust and make you feel, if only for the evening, that you’re dining in the City of Lights. Bon appetit, mes amis.