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Veronique de Turenne

The old Frontier

The Frontier RestaurantItís a tricky thing, missing a place you used to live. Memory, unreliable witness, plays tricks. Size and shape and color, scents and sound, all adjust according to inner need. And thatís not even accounting for the actual changes that take place over time. So here in Albuquerque, a funky, high-desert town now transformed by a building boom, itís nice to see the Frontier Restaurant hasnít changed a bit. Same shape, same sign, same color scheme. Same people whiling away the morning in the coveted window booths. Well, itís open 24 hours a day now, which is new. But for a place renown for cinnamon rolls as big as your head, and crispy home fries covered in green chile and melted cheese, that seems like progress.

Next entry: Snow. Again.

More by Veronique de Turenne:
Good night, 2016
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Previous story: Here in New Mexico

Next story: Snow. Again.

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