After a little run to Abiquiu (necessary after seeing the views of it at the Georgia O’Keefe Museum in Santa Fe and yes, the cottonwoods were just coming into leaf in the same bright green as G O’K saw them all those years ago), we took the high road to Taos. We avoided this fate —
The cake was the opposite of the dense flourless tortes which seem to be all the rage these days. It was three layers, at least 7 inches high, with gorgeous buttercream. And Anik, if you’re reading this, you would love this little place with its shelves of cookbooks like Carol Field’s The Italian Baker and Marcella Hazan and the other books which set the trends, not follow them. You would love the menu of sophisticated brunch foods and L. would love the paper covered tables with crayons in a little cup for idle moments.
In Taos, our room in the old Inn was waiting: