We love a good food origin story. Just to prove it, we drove more than two hours each way from our base in Santa Fe to San Antonio. San Antonio, New Mexico, that is — not Texas. The little village of fewer than 100 people is the birthplace of the Green Chile Cheeseburger.
Now it’s true that the burger has practically become synonymous with the state of New Mexico. There are, after all, 51 stops on the state’s Green Chile Cheeseburger Trail. (newmexico.org/things-to-do/cuisine/culinary-trails/green-chile-cheeseburger-trail/) It’s hard to imagine that there was ever a time when New Mexicans weren’t munching down on their signature burger.
But New Mexicans seem to agree that the Green Chile Cheeseburger first appeared at the Owl Bar, opened by Frank Chavez and his wife Dee in 1945. The Owl soon had a loyal following of regulars. That included nuclear scientists who were playing around with mysterious explosions in the desert at White Sands, east of San Antonio, on July 16, 1945.
The story goes that Frank added a grill so that he could serve the hamburgers that his regulars craved. That burger was often accompanied by a side bowl of spicy green chile. One day the dishwasher didn’t show up. When Frank began to run low on dishes, he simply plopped the green chile on top of the burgers. And the rest is history.
Owl’s green chile burger still explosive today
We didn’t even need to look at the menu when we settled into a booth at the Owl, now known as the Owl Bar & Cafe (77 US Highway 380, San Antonio, New Mexico; 575-835-9946; sanantonioowl.com). Both of us wanted the famous Owl Burger. We did ask our waitress what makes the burgers so good. “We have a good cook,” she shrugged. The beef in the patty is hand-ground and that the green chile is prepared daily from a ‶secret″ recipe. “They say it’s just salt and pepper,” she confided, advising us to also order the green chile fries — a heaping meal in itself, as it turned out.
Our waitress left a big pile of napkins on our table. We used them all. The bun can barely contain the beef patty that escapes over the side or the cheese and green chile that oozes from the edges. As if that weren’t enough, the burger is also topped with onion, pickles, lettuce, tomato, mustard, and mayo. It’s a two-fisted taste of history.
Diners from across the country and around the world make a point of stopping at the Owl. It’s become a custom to eat a burger, write a few laudatory lines on a slip of paper, and tack it to the wooden walls along with a few dollars for charity.
Yet despite its culinary fame, the Owl remains a down-to-earth neighborhood place where at least two of the waitresses have worked for more than 40 years. We overheard an Owl regular order his burger with “no mayo, extra mustard.” So we decided to ask him what makes him keep coming back for more. “The chile and the grill,” he told us. “It’s been in use since 1945 so it’s well seasoned.”
He paused for a bite and then continued. “I’ve eaten everywhere. This is the best green chile cheeseburger in the universe. I’d be back here on Sunday — except they’re closed.”
