
For probably 12 years, Bill and a mutual friend (or more) and I met every Saturday for lunch or brunch. If the restaurant was so uncool as to NOT have Huevos Rancheros (or as those of us who are in a close relationship with the dish call it, “Huevos”), Bill would usually toss out a dispirited “I’ll have what they’re having,” when it came time to order. But if the restaurant had Huevos, that was what he ordered. Almost every time. In honor of Bill’s recent passing, I’m starting a quest for the Ultimate Huevos Rancheros in the Albuquerque Area. For the next three months, arteries be damned, I’m going to sample as many different presentations of Huevos Rancheros as I can get my greedy paws on (and Juniperbark will get the doggy bag, or dragon bag, if the restaurant has one). The Quest starts tomorrow…