Harry's is one of the only restaurants in Santa Fe for those times when you don't know what you want to eat and don't feel like cooking. Reflecting on many meals at Harry's, one realizes that the restaurant has other, less tangible traits than good food, and therein lies its star quality.

Once, tired and jetlagged, I supped at Harry's on a cup of coffee and velvety banana layer cake with dark chocolate ganache and peanut butter frosting; my date had a buffalo burger and a beer. Another time, I celebrated a victory with a margarita, served vexingly on the rocks in a martini glass, and the dry rubbed smoky St. Louis cut pork ribs, lacking nuance but heavy on the liquid smoke. Last spring, I nursed a cold with the Moroccan vegetable stew and the muted comfort of the Roadhouse Hippie Salad, which sounds more exciting than it really is.

Harry's is where I bring picky eaters, because they tend to leave happy. Actually, everyone seems to leave Harry's happy, regardless of what they eat. I prefer breakfast at Harry's to lunch or dinner, for migas and Peyton's cinnamon rolls. (A Qasimi)

Breakfast, lunch and dinner daily. $$