There’s never been a moment when there hasn’t been a community table at Cafe Pasqual’s in New Mexico. We’re capturing how this gathering space embodies the ethos of the restaurant — from the ingredients it sources to the way staff treat guests with warmth and care. We take a seat at the community table and meet some of the regulars.
The Origins of the Community Table at Cafe Pasqual’s in New Mexico
Katharine Kagel – executive chef and owner of Cafe Pasqual’s – knew a central “big” table would work almost fifty years ago when she first opened the restaurant. She’d seen it, experienced it, at a restaurant she frequented when she lived in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Besides, the building on the corner of Water and Don Gaspar may have been a Texaco gas station in the early 1900s, but it’s been home to restaurants since 1923. Earlier inhabitants sported prosaic names like Liberty Café, K.C. Waffle House (whose sign outside read: “Here food is served at its best. Great Atmosphere. Excellent Service”), Mayflower Café, Golden Temple of Conscious Cookery, and Pogo’s.
Hospitality is in the bones of this spot, and nothing is more hospitable than the community table.
A Table with History
In a touch of serendipity, the community table and the whole building in which it sits both date back to 1905. In normal worlds you’d call that a coincidence, but at Cafe Pasqual’s it feels more like kismet. Kagel explains that the table seats eight in a perfect circle but in day-to-day life with the leaves in, “It can seat ten happily, eleven, or twelve slightly unhappily,” Kagel laughs.
The Power of Shared Meals
Granted, it’s not for everyone — the idea of sitting with a group of strangers and sharing a meal. But watch the people who declined an invitation to sit at the community table, and you might see them change their minds as they watch the laughter, sharing of food, and eureka moments of discovered shared histories, mutual friends, and even hometowns.
Strangers who wouldn’t think of making eye contact on a busy city street are suddenly exchanging forkfuls of griddled corn cakes and calabacitas in exchange for a bite of Oaxacan tamales, with a third chiming in that yes, the Hall of Fame egg salad sandwich merits the moniker.
The Regulars
And when some of the faithful community table diners – people who make Pasqual’s and the big table their second home – gathered for lunch, the laughter and stories flowed as freely as the coffee and iced tea. Regulars like Sheryl Magnuson, who travels to Santa Fe once a week from her home in Albuquerque for breakfast at Cafe Pasqual’s, admit that the ritual means something special. “I’ve had just about everything (on the menu). I think about it on the drive here.” And as soon as she walks in the door, they’re already making her mocha super-hot, just the way she likes it.
Or Rita and Scott Hemmig, who moved here in 2015. When I ask Scott if they moved here because of Cafe Pasqual’s, he says laughing, “Hell yes!” After countless meals they still remember what they ate the first time: Rita had the griddled polenta and chorizo and Scott had the huevos barbacoa.
Familiar Faces and Favorite Orders
Augustine Sanchez – you’ll recognize him by his picture-perfect mustache, stylish hat, and a Cafe Pasqual’s bandana tied jauntily around his neck – likes the grilled bison burger. Bill Fisher, on the other hand, admits that he ate the Blue Lady Chicken Enchiladas for nineteen days running. He says the kitchen kept track, wondering when he’d finally order something else. Mary Emerling and Reg Jackson date their courting days to Cafe Pasqual’s. They’re community table regulars and say Kagel saw the sparks and created romantic opportunities for them at a nearby booth.
A Place for Connection
There’s something liberating about dining at the community table—a license to be freer and more lively. Perhaps it’s no wonder that at least two couples met at the big table and went on to name their firstborn sons Pasqual. Kagel still has the baby snaps they sent. She figures they’re in their forties now and hopes one day they’ll walk in and say, “I got named after your restaurant.”
The Staff’s Perspective
It’s not just the guests who have a soft spot for the community table either – it’s the staff who duck and dive in tight quarters to refill water glasses, take an order for a slice of bittersweet chocolate pecan pie, or package up some Mexican wedding cookies to go. Roblair Richter has been with Pasqual’s for over 20 years and sometimes takes a spot at the community table for a much-needed breather and bite to eat once he’s finished work. One time he sat down next to a young woman visiting Santa Fe from Uganda. They talked for a long time, swapped numbers, and have been pen pals for over five years. Despite the time difference and thousands of miles between them, they text nearly every day.
While community table newbies may be reluctant to take the plunge, Richter says they’re invariably happy they did. “‘I’m not sure I really want to sit there,’ they’ll say, but when they do, they end up talking to people and they go, ‘Oh my god, it was the best experience I’ve had.’”
The Heart of Cafe Pasqual’s
A friend of Kagel’s whom she met in Kyoto, Japan once visited and spent an entire day sitting at the community table. At the end of lunch service, Kagel emerged from the kitchen to hear her friend announce that Cafe Pasqual’s wasn’t a restaurant. Kagel gazed down at her food-splattered apron. “Okay, if it’s not a restaurant, what is it?” Kagel asked. “She said, ‘It’s a sanctuary.’”
And if Cafe Pasqual’s is a sanctuary – which I believe it is – then the community table is both its geographic center and spiritual heart. A welcome place for anyone wanting rest, food, and above all, welcome.
Story by Julia Platt Leonard
Photography by Tira Howard
Shot on location at Cafe Pasqual’s
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