Our FULL Story
It started on Route 66
From Albuquerque to Berlin. A story about finding home, discovering possibilities, and the unexpected relationship between art, food, and life.
Richard B didn't begin with a restaurant, a business plan, or even the intention of starting something.
It began with a road trip, an unexpected feeling, and a house we never intended to buy.
Why Albuquerque?
During my college years, my brother and I took a road trip along Route 66, starting in Chicago and heading west towards Los Angeles.
One of our stops was Cubero, a small village outside Albuquerque, New Mexico. We went because of a local legend that Ernest Hemingway had stayed there while working on The Old Man and the Sea.
But what I remember most has nothing to do with Hemingway.
We arrived in Cubero, got out of the car, and something happened that I still cannot quite explain.
I looked at my brother and said:
"I feel grounded. I belong here."
There was something about the landscape, the light, the vastness, perhaps even the emptiness, that made me feel completely at home.
The feeling stayed with me.
Years later, Michael and I went on our honeymoon, traveling through the American South and Southwest. I wanted to show him the places I had fallen in love with, including New Mexico.
Michael, however, wasn't quite as enchanted by Cubero as I was.
To him, it was a rather run-down village, with trailers, occasional gunshots, and the constant sound of the highway. Not exactly his idea of paradise.
So Albuquerque became our compromise.
Three Months That Changed Everything
In 2018, seven years after our honeymoon, Michael and I found ourselves at a point in our lives when we desperately needed a change.
Life in Berlin had become emotionally exhausting. Difficult and dominating family relationships had taken their toll, and we both needed distance from a situation that had become increasingly unhealthy.
We needed room to breathe, to recover, and perhaps to rediscover who we were without the expectations and pressures that had surrounded us for so long.
And then Michael, being Michael, started looking at real estate.
Not because we intended to buy anything, but simply out of curiosity.
One day, we decided to visit an open house.
It was an original 1958 mid-century modern home, designed by architect William E. Burk Jr., who had also lived there himself.
But we saw something else:
We saw the architecture, the proportions, the possibilities. We could imagine what the house had once been and, more importantly, what it could become.
A truly magical space.
Even Michael was convinced. And the fact that the house was built of brick rather than the typical American wood-frame construction was a game changer for him.
As we crossed the koi pond at the front of the house, we looked at each other and said:
"Seems like we're staying?!"
And that was it.
But somehow, none of that seemed as important as what we had found.
A hideaway. A place to create. A place where we felt grounded, enchanted, and completely at home.
Then something rather wonderful happened.
We found a couple willing to exchange homes with us for three months.
Three months away from Berlin. Three months in Albuquerque.
No great plan. Just a much-needed break.
It sounded wonderful.
The reality was somewhat different.
The house was in pretty bad shape. It had been sitting on the market for quite some time, smelled unmistakably of mouse pee, and had clearly seen better days.
Nobody seemed able to see beyond its neglected condition.
We had no jobs waiting for us. No business plan. Absolutely no idea how we would earn a living.
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We had no jobs waiting for us. No business plan. Absolutely no idea how we would earn a living. -
What we didn't fully realize at the time was just how much we needed that place.
The house on Loma Linda gave us something we hadn't known we were searching for: a place to heal, become independent of our past, recognize our own worth, and eventually find forgiveness.
As we slowly brought the neglected house back to life, something was changing in us, too.
We began to trust ourselves again, to make our own decisions, and to build a life on our own terms.
We had seen something beautiful in a house that others had overlooked. And somehow, that house helped us see something valuable in ourselves again.
We hadn't gone to Albuquerque looking for a new life.
But that is exactly what we found.