A block off the square in Santa Fe you find Pasqual’s which feels like its been around since way back before they put the ‘New’ in New Mexico. A breakfast quesadilla with eggs so organic that the chickens who produced them have better healthcare and retirement benefits than I do, washed down with and a good, smooth cup of coffee who’s beans were hand-picked by smiling children in Guatemala (and who’s healthcare package is only slightly less awesome than the chickens). Take your moral satisfaction, your full stomach, and your much lighter wallet, and go wander the square in the cool New Mexican sun washed daylight until margarita time.
Who’s sick of +100 degree days? This guy.