Review of the the Plaza Cafe Restaurant in Santa Fe, New Mexico

It's 1918. The United States and its allies are on the verge of declaring victory in World War I. Al Jolson's Oh.' How I Wish I Could Sleep Until MyDaddy Comes Home spins on the Victrola, and your S600 Ford Model-T truck is in the driveway. President Woodrow Wilsons "Wheatless Wednesdays" encourage you to aid in the war effort by abstaining from products containing fanned wheat. What do you do? If you're like me, you would have fired up that truck and headed to the Santa Fe Plaza for some good grub, a friendly face, and some gossip to help you take the measure of the day. The Plaza Restaurant, on the west side of the Santa Fe Plaza, has been serving Santa Feans since 1918, and - aside from instant Internet news updates, chic espresso drinks, and low-carb diets (wheatless Wednesdays, anyone?) - not much has changed in the way things are done there.

By 1947, when the Plaza Restaurant was purchased by the Razatos family, which still owns and operates it, Jackie Robinson was breaking the color barrier in American baseball. Roswell, N.M., was coping with a sticky UFO rumor, and Henry Ford had died of a cerebral hemorrhage at the age of 83. History fills this Santa Fe mainstay, and, on any given day, so do locals and tourists. The interior of the restaurant still clings to the diner aesthetic - glimpses of neon lights, low-riding soda-joint stools, and dusty newspaper articles framed in the metal or wood of the day and the constant clamor of silverware and durable plates help preserve the atmosphere of an earlier time.

I've recently reacquainted myself with the offerings at the Plaza Restaurant after a 12-year absence that can only be described as prolonged indifference. While I've worked only a few blocks away for nearly a decade, I've been spoiled by an influx of delivery services that spare me from the often long lines outside the Plazas front doors. The dry, warm winter may be the only reason I quickly secured a mid afternoon table in early January, and for that I'm forever grateful (my condolences to the winter-sports industry). The menu at the Plaza Restaurant encompasses an array of New Mexican, Mexican, and American classics, from burritos to mole chicken to hamburgers. My nostalgia inspired me to order a Coke float, served overflowing on a saucer. This simple mix of Coke and vanilla ice cream is an instant Disneyland for the tongue. I had to restrain myself from polishing it off before the food arrived. My bean sopapilla, stuffed with red and green chile and served with Spanish rice and even more pinto beans on the side, justified the Plaza Restaurants continuing success. I washed it down with a "Michela," a Mexican beer served in a salt-rimmed mug with a wedge of lime. The chile sauces at the Plaza aren't for the weak, and the menu rightly warns that you may experience more heat than anticipated. The red sauce is deeply flavored and hot, hot, hot! The green sauce is a bit tamer but still spicy enough to maintain a loyal local following. The beans are equally well-seasoned, and tender to boot. A generous heap of melted jack cheese nearly canceled out the somewhat brittle sopapilla.

Years ago, the sopapillas here had a chew factor, but this time they were oily and frail. The cheese-stuffed chile relleno with rice and beans were the breaded variety, light and subtle with green chile on the side, as ordered. While the rellenos were a bit stringy - I assume because of under-roasted chiles - the crust was airy and grease-free, an anomaly for most New Mexico diners. Although the house-made coconut cream pie and red cake were tempting, the generous entree portions left us too full to indulge.

I took my next meal without company, itching to savor the experience of dining alone after a holiday season. I wasn't the only person with the same bright idea. A smattering of lone eaters - and couples too comfortable to share words between bites - graced the outer tables. I took a seat at the counter facing the polished stainless- steel wall. My dining companions: a lone woman ravenously eating a burger and reading a magazine; a lone man with a laptop, slurping coffee between typing words. I ordered a burger with jack cheese and green chile, cooked medium, with a side of tortilla soup instead of fries or Cole slaw. Imagine crisp tortilla strips floating in a smoky broth of roasted red chiles and tomato, topped -with creamy, ripe avocado. My love of spuds aside, this is the best way to preface a burger in Santa Fe. The burger arrived with cheddar, and, after waving down my server, a corrected version with jack cheese soon appeared. Even after you add the requisite red onion, tomato slice, green-leaf lettuce, and pickle wedge, you have yourself a sandwich that's hardly worth the price tag: at almost $8 - plus another $1.50 for cheese and chile - the burger was gristly, dry, and overcooked. It didn't help that five minutes passed before an alternate server was available to ask for napkins, condiments, and silverware - none of which were present until requested. During a busy time, I occasionally expect these things to be overlooked, but when the place is nearly empty, a full service diner has little excuse. When I saw the $2.25 price tag to add bacon to a burger, I nearly choked. Unless the bacon is Hipping the burger in a tutu and singing Aye Maria in (pig) Latin, I'll pass.

Whether it's my deep-seated nostalgia or my compulsive people-watching disorder, I will always have space in my heart for the Plaza Restaurant. The food is comforting if not perfect, and the service is more attentive when the place is packed. The prices are a bit steep for what is served, but if you stick to the Mexican and New Mexican offerings, you will hardly ever be disappointed. The red and green sauces are some of the best in town; if they ever bottle them I'll be the first in line. The Plaza Restaurant is located at 54 Lincoln Ave., 982-1664. They are opened from 7 a.m.-9 p.m. daily, and serve breakfast until 11 a.m.