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Monte Carlo Liquors & Steak House is a lone brick island in a large asphalt lot that sits just over 100 feet from the Central Avenue Bridge that stretches over the Rio Grande in Albuquerque.

Stories, photos and travel recommendations from America’s Mother Road

The business’ name says everything: The front of the building lodges a liquor store selling the basic brands of spirits and beer. Around back, an arrow, painted garnet against an otherwise beige facade, points toward a red door sheltered by a small, domed awning. The words “steakhouse entrance” have been stenciled above in letters big enough to be seen two blocks away.

The 56-year-old throwback is often my first stop after landing in New Mexico. I have been traveling to the state regularly since the summer of 1999, when I attended my first of many writing retreats led by Natalie Goldberg, author of “Writing Down the Bones” and many other books. Its northern topography — the enormous sense of space, the way the light moves and colors shift against the mountains and desertscapes — keep me returning.

The 56-year-old throwback Monte Carlo Liquors & Steak House is often my first stop after landing in New Mexico.

Albuquerque, home to the state’s largest airport, is a gateway. It’s also the city with the longest continuous urban stretch of Route 66, named Central Avenue and running nearly 18 miles through its core. Two of my very favorite restaurants in New Mexico reside along this zagging sweep, both quirky and atmospheric and also grounding in their sense of place.

I return to Monte Carlo for two reasons: the honky-tonk atmosphere and the green chile cheeseburger.

Beyond the red door lies the platonic ideal of a Midcentury dive. The windowless dining room remains perpetually dim. Crimson pleather booths line the walls, which are covered with vintage beer signs and framed portraits of Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe … and Guy Fieri, who visited in 2008. A collection of model cars sits behind glass in one corner. It is easy to imagine a near past when cigarette smoke hovered like low cloud cover.

I cannot report on the fried appetizers or char-broiled steaks that comprise much of the menu. Occasionally I order a Greek appetizer — a nod to the heritage of Michael Katsaros, whose family still runs the place — which includes a block of feta sprinkled with oregano, olives, a single rolled grape leaf, slices of tomato and cucumber and, uniquely, thick blocks of salami.

Here’s why I return to Monte Carlo: the honky-tonk atmosphere and the green chile cheeseburger.

Chasing green chile cheeseburgers through New Mexico is sport for food obsessives. Cheryl Jamison, a longtime food writer who lives in Santa Fe, steered me to Monte Carlo years ago.

The staff grounds the beef sirloin daily, a crucial step. Seeds are visible among the chopped roasted chiles, smoky and vegetal and bringing some heat, overlaid with a single square of American cheese melted into place. The sting of a dry gin martini is exactly right between bites.

Is this the best green chile cheeseburger in Albuquerque? Impossible for me to say, but it is an excellent gauge from which to begin a survey.

The dining room is perpetually dim, and crimson pleather booths line the walls, covered with vintage beer signs and framed portraits.

The chile cheeseburger at Monte Carlo.

Wherever you’re headed from Monte Carlo, it’s worth a quick stop to admire the twin Route 66 Rio Grande markers that stand on either side of the nearby bridge. Their adobe color blends so seamlessly into the landscape that you could speed by them without much notice. They were installed in the early 2000s as part of the city’s public art programs. Their tiered form nods to the cloud terrace motif that appears repeatedly in New Mexico’s indigenous Pueblo art and architecture. It’s easiest at night to spy their subtle Route 66 logos lit up in red and green neon.

Red and green are the unofficial state colors of New Mexico, as you’ll see again and again on plates delivered by servers at Duran Central Pharmacy, the finest destination along Central Avenue for immersion into regional cooking.

Indigenous ingredients (corn, beans, squash, game meats, berries and piñon among them) and heavy Spanish colonial influences (chiles were said to have been brought to the area as early as the late 1500s) help define New Mexican cuisine.

Modern restaurant menus, with the familiar enchiladas and tamales and hard-shell tacos, can resemble Tex-Mex, but never say that to a New Mexican local. The chiles delineate culinary borders. “Red or green?” customers will be asked repeatedly. Meaning: Do you want your dish smothered in sauce made from roasted green chiles, or a simmered counterpart fashioned from dried red chile pods?

The combination plate, Christmas style, at Duran’s.

If you want both, as many of us do, the answer is “Christmas.”

At “Duran’s,” as locals call it, see and taste the distinctions on Duran’s combination plate, which includes one beef or chicken taco, one pork tamale and one rolled cheese enchilada with a side of pinto beans. Green has a toothier texture and fresher flavor; red is saucier with dusky, earthen undertones. Try the duo over a hefty knife-and-fork breakfast burrito filled with chorizo, chilaquiles, a bowl of chili or, a special on Wednesdays and Fridays, sopaipillas (pillows of fried dough) blanketed in cheese.

Founded in 1942, Duran originally had a soda fountain that converted to a sit-down restaurant in the 1960s. Touches of Midcentury Modern kitsch, especially a starburst clock on the restaurant’s roadside sign, marks its place along Route 66.

Touches of Midcentury Modern kitsch include a starburst clock on the restaurant’s roadside sign, marking its place along Route 66.

And yes, this building also pulls double duty as a thriving pharmacy. On return visits when I’m feeling too excited about jumping back into New Mexican foodways, I start at Monte Carlo for a cheeseburger and martinis before a second lunch of sopaipillas, “Christmas-style,” at Duran, knowing I can pick up ibuprofen and calcium carbonate for dessert.

Monte Carlo Liquors & Steak House is located at 3916 Central Ave. SW, Albuquerque, (505) 836-9886, monte-carlo-liquors.hub.biz

Duran Central Pharmacy: 1815 Central Ave. NW, Albuquerque, (505) 247-4141, duransrx.com

Famous signs along the nearly 2,500 miles of Route 66 include the 66-foot soda bottle at Pops in Oklahoma, the wagging neon tail of Albuquerque’s Dog House and the hand-painted slogans for Snow Cap Drive-In in Arizona. But in L.A., none is so iconic as the giant looming penguin that signifies milkshakes, burgers, oldies playlists and sheer Americana at the end of the road.

Stories, photos and travel recommendations from America’s Mother Road

The Mother Road that stretches from Chicago to the West Coast unofficially ends at the Santa Monica Pier, but at its technical terminus, Mel’s Drive-In declares the “ROUTE ENDS HERE,” inlaid in terrazzo beneath that jumbo tuxedoed penguin. It’s been a beacon for decades, and though the beloved restaurant space recently was listed for sale for $26 million, Mel’s owners hope it remains a diner and destination for generations.

For much of its history, the diner at the end of Route 66 was the 1959-founded Penguin Coffee Shop, a Googie-architecture marvel of angular windows, rock walls and little cartoons of penguins hanging above swivel stools and an open kitchen.

The original penguin sign from the former Penguin Coffee Shop still stands at Mel’s Drive-In in Santa Monica.

As a very young child I remember sliding into the booths with my father, whose office was nearby on Wilshire. Back then, the tall angled ceilings seemed to soar and the breakfast combos looked mountainous.

“It was a Googie kind of restaurant — you know, we don’t have that many of them around anymore,” my dad recalls. “It had an aura of roadside diner about it. … Everybody would see the giant penguin out there. I don’t think Burgess Meredith ever ate there, though.” The joke takes me a beat before landing; my version of Batman’s Penguin will always be Danny DeVito.

“It was a Googie kind of restaurant — you know, we don’t have that many of them around anymore,” the writer’s dad recalls.

We’d visit every month or two, until the Penguin closed its doors in 1991 and transformed into a Western Dental office, which kept the penguin sign but dropped those high ceilings and removed the kitchen along with other hallmarks of its roadside charm. Thankfully, its journey didn’t end there.

The Weiss family, which founded Mel’s Drive-In diner in 1947, had been eyeing the property for years and signed a lease in 2016. Then there was the link to their own history: The prolific Armet & Davis architecture firm designed the Penguin as well as the current home of Mel’s Sherman Oaks.

“When the dentist office went out of business,” said co-owner Colton Weiss, “it seemed like a no-brainer to make it Mel’s and bring it back to the glory days of being a diner.”

What followed were two years of “very expensive” renovations, according to the third-generation Mel’s owner.

Beyond the iconic penguin sign — which obtained “historically or architecturally significant” designation in 2000 — Mel’s pays homage with the large sculptural, custom-made glass globe lights, which replicate the original’s. The Weisses hired garden specialists to review decades-old photos of the Penguin Coffee Shop to determine which varieties of flowers decorated the front of the restaurant, then they replanted them.

Since the building’s reopening in 2018, thousands of guests have ended the journey along Route 66 with a meal in the diner.

While sledgehammering drywall, they uncovered the diner’s original rock wall. Along a hallway near the bathrooms, a small gallery of Penguin Coffee Shop photos offers another glimpse of the predecessor. This location also features a marshmallow-and-chocolate-sauce Penguin Shake in honor of the tuxedoed mascot of the original.

It wasn’t until they were close to signing a deal that they realized it sat along Route 66.

“We’re like Route 66 authorities now,” said Weiss, whose father, Steven Weiss, was largely responsible for the restoration.

Since the building’s reopening in 2018, the owners say thousands of guests have ended their travels with a meal in the diner. They bustle through the doors after the long journey, sometimes bedecked in Route 66 merchandise, and sometimes buying Mel’s own brand of Route 66 merch while there.

Atmosphere and details of Mel’s Drive-In Diner.

“We had a guy do it in a ’67 Chevy, that was on his bucket list: Older guy who did it with his wife, and it was a convertible,” said Weiss. “He did it in summertime, so by the time he showed up he was covered in dust and dirt. He couldn’t be happier to make it to Mel’s and get a burger.”

Another, he said, did the whole route on a bicycle.

The diner offers certificates of completion for those who finish the trek, and devised a burger named for the route. A fish tank at the entrance features a Route 66 theme, as does a mural on a small wall of the parking lot. Two official signs, placed by the city, denote the location’s significance.

“The city knew there’d be renewed interest in a diner being the real ending of Route 66,” Weiss said. “Before, I don’t know anybody who’d want to end their trip at a dentist’s office. Maybe somebody who broke their teeth on the way.”

But the trail’s end could someday see its own end. The property was listed for sale in 2025. Representatives for the building’s management company didn’t respond to requests for comment.

“We’re trying to keep it there as long as possible,” Weiss said. “People really enjoy this location, and it seems like one of the last diners in Santa Monica.” Weiss declined to comment further.

Mel’s assistant manager Yazmin Minguelasays she sees more travelers now because it’s the centennial of Route 66. “But even before that, we still had a lot of visitors.”

She’s worked for Mel’s 22 years, six of which have been spent in the Santa Monica restaurant. Her shifts are full of Westside regulars, celebrities and guests finishing their trip along Route 66.

“Ending on a diner is nostalgia,” my dad mused. “Having a place like Mel’s, which is a substitute for the kind of flea-bitten ptomaine joints that you might get along Route 66, brings back memories to very old people. And very new people ask questions like, ‘Who’s Burgess Meredith?’”

Mel’s Drive-In is open at 1670 Lincoln Blvd., Santa Monica, Sunday to Thursday from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m., and Friday and Saturday from 7 a.m. to midnight.