I am starting this review not merely as a critique, but as a heartfelt plea: Bring back the heart…read moreand soul of The Pink Adobe.
In case you aren't entirely familiar with its history, Roselea was the culinary genius behind the legendary Pink Adobe Restaurant. For generations, this establishment has been part of what makes Santa Fe special.
The new owner has amazing design sense and are known internationally. But the Pink is sacred ground!
My partner grew up in Santa Fe. He often talked about the many warm, cozy nights he spent at The Pink Adobe, with its candlelit corners, welcoming fireplaces, and an atmosphere that simply cannot be manufactured. It was a place steeped in history and filled with food that warmed the soul from the inside out. Recently, The Pink Adobe underwent a remodel. I don't know what historic preservation requirements apply to businesses in downtown Santa Fe, but this renovation seems to have removed a little of the building's soul. It feels different because it is different--and not just because of the food.
Before this recent renovation, the staff knew us. They remembered what we ordered, recalled our conversations, and made us feel as though we were returning to visit old friends. Dining there felt a bit like going home, where you knew you'd be welcomed with warmth, served wonderful food, and encouraged to linger over a long conversation. It was a place of comfort, familiarity, and genuine hospitality.
The night we visited in July, the restaurant was noticeably quiet. Before January 2026, getting a reservation was often a challenge. This time, however, there were plenty of tables available. I couldn't help wondering whether the changes might have something to do with the difference.
My mouth watered at the thought of ordering the Tournedos Bordelaise: a tender steak served atop puff pastry, topped with a mushroom cap and homemade bordelaise sauce, accompanied by a beautifully browned potato. I don't typically eat a lot of steak, but this dish was an exception. Every single time I ordered it, I cleaned my plate! It was that good. Imagine my disappointment upon discovering that it had been removed from the menu.
My partner, who has often reminisced about chilly Santa Fe evenings spent enjoying his favorite dish, the Steak Dunigan, decided to treat himself to it that night. The dish is still listed on the revised menu for $65, described as featuring wild mushrooms, green chile, and creamed spinach. When his meal arrived, however, he was surprised to discover that the usual sirloin covered in delicious green chile had been modified to a NY strip. His expression fell. The menu doesn't specify the cut, leaving diners familiar with the original dish to assume that it remains the same. For someone who has enjoyed this signature favorite for years, that difference matters. When a beloved dish carries on under its original name, shouldn't diners be able to expect some continuity in what arrives at the table?
With the Tournedos Bordelaise no longer available, and my usual lighter option--a wonderful blended corn chowder accompanied by a salad--also gone, I spent several minutes studying the menu, struggling to find something that appealed to me. I finally settled on the Stuffed Chile Poblano, filled with the filling of the day (steak, on this particular evening) and served with red adobo sauce for $38. Unfortunately, our server didn't seem to know what the filling of the day was. When the dish arrived, it was swimming in sauce. Red meat isn't usually my first choice, and the steak wasn't as tender as I would have liked. The flavors blended well, and the dish was accompanied by a small serving of rice.
Then there is Roselea's apple pie. This wasn't just apple pie. It was a slice of Santa Fe. It was a local treasure, a dessert with a reputation and a history of its own. We thought surely they wouldn't have tampered with Roselea's apple pie! However, the pie we once knew is now a shadow of its former self. The beautiful layers of apples nestled in a flaky crust are gone, replaced by something more akin to a tart, served with a small dollop of ice cream. What was once distinctive and memorable now resembles a dessert that could be served at any chain restaurant. Why take something extraordinary and make it ordinary? Nothing is sacred anymore--or so it seems.
And that is what makes these changes so disappointing. It isn't simply a matter of a few dishes disappearing from a menu or a favorite recipe being altered. It is the feeling that the very things that made The Pink Adobe special are being lost.
A restaurant with such a rich history and such a devoted following has something that cannot be recreated by a fresh coat of paint, a redesigned dining room, or a more contemporary menu. It has character. It has memories. It has a legacy built over decades, one meal and one conversation at a time.
