It was the end of an era last night.

It was the end of an era last night.

Paul’s Monterey Inn, an Albuquerque institution, has closed. It was a throwback to a bygone era. A time when the steakhouse was the quintessential American dining experience. The lighting, if it could be called that, was dim enough to immediately feel intimate, but just bright enough to read a menu. Portions were huge, but manageable. If you closed your eyes and attuned all your conscious thought to your olfactory lobe you could just barely smell the decades of cigarette smoke infused into the overstuffed leatherette seating. And the decor made you think the Rat Pack was going to walk in any minute. Charming, but authentic. Eating at Paul’s was like stepping into a time machine.

But the best part was the staff. Well, if you were friendly and genuine. They had no patience for the “Do you know who I am?” or “You’re here to serve me,” types. If you treated them with warmth and respect, it was repaid tenfold. There wasn’t a free seat in the house, but they found room for me, a regular. After my food I got hugs from everyone, and some tears. It was great to see Paul’s so busy, but if they had had one night per week where they did half the business they had last night, they’d still be open. That was discouraging.

Thanks for being a place I could go for a generous pour of good bourbon, a red meat lover’s orgasmic dinner and great conversation with warm and friendly servers. Albuquerque is a little less Albuquerque today.