My introduction to New Mexican cuisine was, to put it mildly, a shock to the system. At a Little Anita’s in Albuquerque, I encountered what seemed like an overwhelming assault of fiery red and green chile sauces. Initially, the intense heat and unfamiliar flavors were off-putting, leaving me questioning how anyone could enjoy, let alone crave, such intensely spiced food. My first experience felt like a culinary trial by fire, and I left convinced that New Mexican food and I were not destined to be friends. The sheer heat of the chile sauces dominating every dish was, in my novice opinion, simply too much.
However, Little Anita’s, a family-run establishment with deep roots in Albuquerque, represents the heart of New Mexican culinary tradition. Founded by Larry Gutierrez, the Gutierrez family boasts over thirty years in the restaurant industry, with thirteen locations, including nine in New Mexico and four in Colorado. They also operate New Mexico Food Distributors, ensuring the restaurants are supplied with authentic salsas and chile sauces made from time-honored family recipes. This is genuinely New Mexican cuisine, distinct from broader Mexican fare, as any local will proudly tell you. Despite my rocky start, the persistent whispers of locals suggesting that the red and green chile would eventually win me over, and perhaps even become something I’d miss, began to pique my curiosity.
And, slowly but surely, something shifted. The initial overwhelming heat began to feel less aggressive, and I started to discern the nuances, particularly in the red chile. The warm, smoky flavor and rich, brick-red color started to appeal to me. Just as I was beginning to appreciate this regional cuisine, the Little Anita’s near my home experienced a fire. Watching the wooden structure succumb to flames was disheartening. It was during its closure and subsequent rebuilding that a surprising realization dawned on me: I missed Little Anita’s. I missed the crispy ground-beef tacos, the fiery chiles rellenos, the comforting tamales, the stacked enchiladas – and yes, even the chile itself.
My subsequent time in Utah, a place devoid of readily available chile, solidified this newfound appreciation. The quest for red or green chile in Utah’s Mexican markets was met with blank stares. Like other New Mexican expats, I learned to rely on mail-ordering chile or stocking up whenever I passed through states where it was available. Colorado, thankfully, is a different story. Upon discovering a Little Anita’s location at 1550 South Colorado Boulevard in Denver, it felt like finding an oasis. It was a taste of home, a familiar comfort. My first visit to this Colorado outpost was far from a disappointment, it was a welcome reminder of the flavors I had grown to crave. This particular location is a cozy cafe, with counter service and a handful of tables. The menu is focused and satisfying: tacos, enchiladas, nachos, burritos, sopaipillas, tamales, and a few unique items like the Indian taco and burrito burger. Opting for the #2 combination plate with chicken fajitas and a Coke (fresh horchata would have been a bonus), my food arrived quickly, in under ten minutes.
The meal was a delicious flashback to authentic New Mexican flavors. The fajitas featured tender, grilled white meat chicken strips with perfectly cooked tri-color bell peppers. The pico de gallo was bursting with fresh cilantro and onion, and the tortillas were warm and fluffy. And there’s a unique pleasure in encountering a searingly hot chile relleno, especially when you can control the green chile by having it served on the side. This allows you to savor the initial crispy, oily texture before the chile permeates the dish, mingling with melted white cheese and the soft green chile inside, leaving a pleasant warmth on your lips. I chose red chile sauce for the tamale and enchilada, green for the relleno, and also sampled the house green chile stew.
A minor controversy arose the previous year when it was revealed that Little Anita’s “vegetarian” green chile contained a beef base. While not personally a vegetarian, I inquired about the current green chile and learned it now uses a chicken base. I appreciated the transparency. For those with dietary restrictions, it underscores the importance of asking about ingredients. This green chile was a rich amber color, hinting at tomato, and dotted with medium-hot green chile pieces. The sauce was thin yet flavorful, with a noticeable garlic presence and a subtle touch of cumin. Little Anita’s green chile stew echoed these flavors, featuring tender potatoes and pork. While some New Mexican diners found the stew slightly brothy, preferring a thicker consistency, the flavor profile remained undeniably authentic.
While it’s challenging to mishandle simple dishes like crunchy ground beef tacos or cheese enchiladas (and Little Anita’s certainly doesn’t), tamales are where many restaurants falter. However, Little Anita’s tamale was a pleasant surprise. The flavorful red chile-spiced pork filling was concentrated in the center, rewarding patience, and the outer masa was perfectly mealy, moist, and lightly salted. And the red chile itself was, at that point, the best I’d found in Denver – bright, warm, fruity, and possessing the characteristic grainy texture of authentic red chile, not diluted with tomato sauce.
Sopaipillas have always been a favorite of mine, even before my full conversion to New Mexican food. They serve as the perfect gateway to this cuisine. Little Anita’s sopaipillas were delightful – airy pillows of subtly salty dough, crispy on the outside and chewy within. I did, however, skip the “sopaipilla syrup,” a blend of corn syrups and caramel coloring, in favor of real honey, which I believe every restaurant should offer for its superior taste. My journey from skepticism to appreciation of red and green chile has been transformative. Now, I find myself engaged in passionate debates about the merits of each, comparing sauces from different establishments with the same fervor as the heat of the sauces themselves. New Mexican food is not the devil; rather, the magic is in the details, and Little Anita’s truly stands out as an exceptional purveyor of genuine New Mexican cuisine, satisfying both Albuquerque expats and Colorado locals alike.
