Donnie Masterton and Joe at The Restaurant
The last time I was in San Miguel de Allende, I was going through a divorce. It was my first Christmas without my boys and my parents had thought that it would be good for me to get away from it all, so they bought me an airline ticket to Mexico. My brother, who was single at the time too, came along and it was a family vacation like the days before I had a husband and children—a surreal scenario. The only crystal clear thing at that point in my life was that I was never, ever, you couldn’t pay-me-to-do-it, get married again.
Um, yeah. Sheepish smile.
Hello Joe Hargrave.
Who four 1/2 years later, I was now with, hand in hand, revisiting the same San Miguel markets and art galleries that I’d been to with my parents. To top off the bizarre life intersection, we spent a lot of the time hanging out with Joe’s old friend Donnie Masterton, who had been the opening chef for Azie restaurant, which was located next to Lulu, during its dot-com hey day in 1989. Joe worked there as the general manager. At that time, Azie was the shit. Pardon my Spanish.
Also, at that point in time, I was working at San Francisco magazine as a food editor. I didn’t know Joe. Joe didn’t know me. But I had dined at Azie (when most likely Joe was there), and what I knew of Donnie was that his food was exquisitely ahead of its time. Not to mention, he was the first guy to have a DJ at a restaurant and he even proceeded the masses with a knife tattoo on his forearm. Azie was cooler than San Francisco in some ways. Donnie, as Joe has always said, was a trailblazer.
And now, Donnie is in San Miguel, brought there by 9/11 and chef burnout, reinvigorated by a new, mellower lifestyle that allows him to spend time with his two young girls and still run a restaurant. He recently opened his own place called The Restaurant at Sollano 16, serving food that is not by any means Mexican but would be impressive in any sophisticated city, anywhere in the world.
Joe and I dined there on our last night, which was perfect, because honestly, at that point, I couldn’t look another taco in the face. Donnie’s cooking has softened around the edges, just like all us old folks. He sources locally and organically when he can, which is a challenge down there.
My first thought, sitting in the restaurant’s lovely outdoor courtyard and biting into a simple but artful pickled beet salad with local goat cheese, was that his subtly eclectic cooking—although not as edgy as 10 years ago—has a finesse that would impress even the jaded folks of San Francisco. Donnie has the touch, no doubt. And a pretty enviable life, considering how gorgeous and chill San Miguel is.
Sometimes things just work out.