After “Red or green?” the second-most characteristic question asked in New Mexico is “Did ya take the Low Road or the High Road?” Often remarked on for their beauty, featuring mountain vistas, handmade adobe churches, and towering pines, the roads headed north toward Taos are also the hungry traveler’s dream. The Low Road follows Highway 84/285 to NM 68 along the Rio Grande while the High Road cuts through Chimayó up into the Sangre de Cristos, passing through Truchas and Peñasco and spitting you out at the San Francisco de Asìs Mission Church. These roads, paved during the first big Taos tourism boom between the 1920s and World War II, will also deliver you to all manner of locally owned food businesses, from mom-and-pop taco spots to wineries.

I know this because I have spent countless hours zipping to and from Taos County in my trusty Honda CR-V. It began when I first moved to New Mexico. I was twenty-one years old and living and farming in the village of Santa Cruz in the Española Valley, wedged between where the High Road to Taos begins and the Low Road passes by. The farm where I worked was a dairy goat operation churning out jars of gourmet chèvre and goat’s milk caramel from the ballooning udders of Nubian and Alpine goats with names like Miss Ohio and Iris. I knew a handful of people spread across the state, two of whom were my friends Carla Jo and Melissa, who lived in Taos with their border collie, Boone. The goats I cared for were great company in their own way. But even still, I was lonely.

“Just come for a visit!” Carla Jo insisted about once a month; she and Melissa were in their late twenties, seemingly much older and more together in their adorable adobe behind Kit Carson Park, while I was lost in a fresh-out-of-undergrad directionless haze, living in the solitaire trailer-without-a-park included in my work package. So I found myself spending many weekends in Taos, letting Carla Jo and Melissa make me breakfast after a luxurious night’s sleep in their guest bedroom, hiking along the Rio Grande Gorge, and watching concerts from a picnic blanket in the park. As much as I enjoyed those visits, just as memorable were the drives to and from my final destinations, because unlike many long drives in this country, the ones leading to Taos are absolutely chock full of notable places to eat. Aguas frescas, strawberry ice cream, grassfed burgers, wood-fired pizzas, craft beer, chocolate cake as towering as Truchas Peak, and more, are all at your fingertips.

Nowadays, living in Albuquerque, the drive up north is a little bit longer and one I take a little less frequently. It’s more often that I’m giving out recommendations to sojourning friends than I am taking myself up on a getaway that would afford me a stop at any of these treasured spots. Picture me on the curb, waving goodbye to a carful of loved ones headed toward I-25 North, but instead of mouthing “Safe travels!” I’m yelling after them the likes of “FYI, the El Parasol in Pojoaque is the only location serving the chile relleno burrito and it’s the best one you’ll ever have!”

If you are unfamiliar with the local flavors of the Española and Embudo valleys, don’t just drive past these local haunts. Stop into any one of these spots for tastier travels. I promise the magpies and the bighorn sheep won’t blame you if you take a little longer to get to them.

Tortas Rainbow

When making the drive up north, my stomach conveniently starts to grumble just as I cross over into Rio Arriba County. It’s unbelievable to me that the Subway on Riverside Drive in Española stays in business when it is next door to Tortas Rainbow. As their name suggests, this hole-in-the-wall founded in 2005 by Manuel Marquez specializes in Mexican-style sandwiches: any number of ingredients nestled between the griddled halves of a bolillo. My go-to is the milanesa: thin, breaded steak, sliced ham, slices of queso blanco, avocado, tomato, onion, cilantro, and a mound of crunchy shredded lettuce. It’s the perfect ratio of bread to filling, and a combo meal comes with golden fries and an agua fresca. Beyond tortas, the shrimp cocktail and the menudo are favorites here. The còctel de camarones are served just as you’d find them in any coastal region of Mexico: in a tall martini glass, the shrimps swimming in tomato and lime juice. The menudo, a deeply seasoned, silky and shimmering red chile broth with tripe, hominy, and chunks of pork, might just be the official comfort food of northern New Mexico.

I actually make it to Tortas Rainbow semi-frequently, given that I have a crew of distantly related but spiritually close cousins ranging from seven to seventy-eight years old up the road in La Puebla, whom I join as often as possible for Great Aunt Clara’s blintzes on their back porch. Knowing my appetite for local flavors, these cousins are always filling me in on the latest culinary offerings in Española (there’s almost always something new to try), but more often than not, I stick with Tortas. The last time I was in, I chatted with the man at the table next to me, Toby, who told me he’s lived up the road in Chimayó for seventy-three years. And speaking of menudo, Toby proclaimed that Tortas Rainbow has the best in town.

Tortas Rainbow | 745 N Riverside Dr, Española, 505-542-9735

Dixon Cooperative Market and Deli

Without the co-op, Dixon wouldn’t be the same. Not just because of its eclectic charm that can’t be missed driving along NM 75, but because as the only grocery store for miles, the Dixon Co-Op plays a vital role in the village’s tiny but tight community, supplying ingredients for the local fire station’s pancake breakfasts, making sure special events at the elementary school and library are well stocked with snacks, and of course, investing in local farmers and ranchers, like Embudo Valley Organics and Diamond Sow Garden. I was unlucky to arrive at the co-op on a day their deli was closed (they make a mean Reuben), but fortunate to bump into co-op manager and founding member Clark Case, between a wall of Dixon landrace chile powder and a big basket of Opal apples. “It just flies off the shelves,” Case says of their glorious produce selection as he gives me a tour of the work-in-progress addition to the building, which will help expand the co-op’s ability to stock more of what its 430 members are after: good ingredients.

And for those passing through, good food: slaws and salads ready-to-eat from the deli case, hot sandwiches from behind the counter, and a variety of cold beverages and snacks from within the aisles. I grabbed green chile enchiladas and an iced tea. What brings non-Dixonites to the co-op? Case says there are tourists all year passing through for either hiking or skiing trips. “But people also just love co-ops, so ‘co-op tourists’ will go out of their way to stop in.” I could have sworn he gave me a wink. Oh, Clark.

Zuly’s Café

Just past the Dixon Co-Op and the Embudo Valley Library is Zuly’s Café. Born and raised in Dixon, Chalako Chilton and his wife, Zulema Garcia-Chilton (for whom the cafe is named), opened Zuly’s in the summer of 2010, making it Dixon’s only restaurant. Chalako’s parents moved to Dixon in the late 1960s during a wave of back-to-the-landers settling in the valleys north of Santa Fe. His dad referred to their compound as the Chilton Hilton, due to the frequency with which they were hosting visiting friends. Perhaps it was inevitable that Chalako would end up opening a local gathering spot of his own.

Offering a broad spectrum of New Mexican, Mexican, and American fare, Zuly’s serves up sizzling platters of camarones al mojo de ajo (garlic shrimp), cappuccinos from their full espresso bar, and the occasional live blues band performance out on the patio, fronted of course all by members of the co-op, with Clark Case on bass. I can vouch for their chicken enchiladas, though if I’m going for a slightly lighter touch, the chicken tacos are crispy and juicy. Chalako might tell you at the counter that you should really try one of his favorites, but I promise, all of it is good.

While the shrimp isn’t local (though something about Chalako makes me believe he could reach into the Rio Grande and magically pluck a few prawns from the water), Zuly’s sources local, organic produce and grassfed beef whenever they can. Chalako’s homegrown, homemade green chile salsa is a welcome addition to almost any order.

Zuly’s Cafe | 234 NM 75, Dixon, 505-579-4001

Blue Heron Brewing Company

Continuing along the Rio Grande, you’ll find the village of Rinconada, and the brewery claiming that La Llorona drinks their craft beer. Halfway to Taos in late April, my friend and I stopped in on a rather dreary rainy day for pizza and beer to warm us up. The patio, which is usually a sunny, vibrant spot to kick back for the brewery’s happy hour, was cold and wet—perfect for a ghost who lurks around water, whereas we found a cozy spot inside the quaint adobe joint.

Opened in 2009 by Kristin Hennelly, Blue Heron Brewing Company is New Mexico’s oldest woman-owned and -operated brewery, with five rotating taps of house beer, wine from Dixon’s La Chiripada Winery, wood-fired pizza, and brewed-in-house root beer (yes, you can make that a root beer float). Our vegetarian Field Pizza came with garlicky sauteed mushrooms, goat cheese, and a mountain of arugula on a thin and crispy crust. For beer, we tried Amber’s Folly, a mildly sweet and malty ale that went down smooth. I’ll be back to try the calzone—might it be the highest-elevation pizza pocket in the continental United States? It’s gotta be up there.

Sugar Nymphs Bistro

The High Road to Taos is a longer, windier route that I guess is technically the scenic byway to the already gorge-ous, riverside, quartzite-studded US 285. Alternatively, the High Road offers a stop at Chimayó’s El Protrero Trading Post for a watermelon paleta and a stomach-shaped milagro for your foodie belly health, sweeping stands of ponderosas, jaw-dropping vistas of Truchas Peak, and a giant slice of three-layer cake from Sugar Nymphs Bistro. Adjoining the historic theater in Peñasco, Sugar Nymphs has spent more than twenty years serving the type of home cooking my Midwestern dad would drool over, like pork chops and chicken stew.

On my most recent weekend trip to Taos, we left in the morning and took the High Road on the way back, perfectly timed to hit up Sugar Nymphs for their Sunday brunch. I blushed at the complimentary scones, felt nourished by the quiche and simple house salad, and made an unreasonable dent in the largest slice of cake I’ve ever been served: fluffy and moist layers filled with a delectable coconut cream and coated in a sugar frosting. I packed the remaining bites into a box and snacked on it the rest of the drive home.

Sugar Nymphs Bistro | 15046 NM 75, Peñasco, 575-587-0311, sugarnymphs.com