Santa Fe

Santa Fe: Come for the Tacos, Stay for the Fundido, Forgive the Ice Cream

Some places try too hard to impress. Santa Fe isn’t one of them. This spot is like the cool friend who doesn’t need to brag—they just show up, do their thing, and somehow make you wonder why you’ve been settling for mediocrity elsewhere.

The vibe? Clean and bright, like it just got back from a yoga retreat and wants you to feel as zen as it does. The decor walks the perfect line between “festive” and “I actually want to eat here without feeling like I’m trapped in a piñata.” Even the bathroom is spotless, which is always a promising sign. If they’re paying attention to the toilets, you know they’ve got their priorities straight.

The service is sharp, too. Our server was the kind of attentive that feels natural, not like they’re auditioning for “World’s Most Obvious Hoverer.” Drinks were topped up, orders arrived swiftly, and they never once interrupted me mid-bite—a rare and underrated skill.

Now, let’s talk about the chips. These are the superheroes of the tortilla chip world. Sturdy, reliable, the kind of chip you want to take home to meet your parents. They held up beautifully to the queso fundido, which was rich, cheesy, and exactly the kind of indulgence that should come with a side of guilt—but doesn’t, because it’s just that good.

And then there were the tacos. Oh, the tacos. Homemade tortillas that feel like they were crafted by a tortilla wizard who whispers ancient spells over their griddle. Warm, soft, with just the right touch of char to make you close your eyes and momentarily forget you’ve got responsibilities. The fillings were equally magical, proving once again that simplicity done right is pure culinary poetry.

But then came the fried ice cream. Oh boy. Let’s just say it was the quiet kid in an otherwise rockstar family. Not enough sweetness, and the ice cream tasted like it had been sitting in the back row, trying not to be noticed. It wasn’t offensive—just underwhelming, like when you expect fireworks and get one of those sad little party poppers instead.

Still, Santa Fe more than delivers. The tacos and fundido will haunt your dreams (in a good way), and the vibe makes you want to stay for one more margarita… or maybe three. Just skip the ice cream unless you’re into mild disappointment. But hey, nobody’s perfect.

1500 Summit Street

Crown Point Indiana