Little Miss BBQ – Phoenix, Arizona

If you grew up in New Mexico, you’ve likely heard some variation of that tired old epigram “The reason New Mexico is so windy is because it’s bordered by Arizona which sucks and Texas which blows.”   If any truth whatsoever can be ascribed to that witticism, New Mexico should have fabulous barbecue because it’s bordered by Arizona which has great barbecue and Texas which has the best barbecue in the universe.  Alas, virtually every barbecue aficionado I know agrees that the Land of Enchantment’s barbecue has a lot to be desired.  It’s “good” most will agree, “better than it used to be,” others will tell you.  Still many of them will tell you the only barbecue restaurant in New…

Tapas Papa Frita – Scottsdale, Arizona

While dining at a restaurant in Phoenix, our stomachs roiled a bit as a pesky fly took a nosedive into my glass of Mexican Coca Cola.  By the time our server returned, the acid in the Coke had completely dissolved the fly.  There was no evidence remaining that a fly had drowned in the carbonated water.  If anything, that little escapade gave credence to one of two stories that explain the origin of Spanish tapas.  In this particular origin story, the genesis of tapas was in the working class taverns of Andalusia where field workers used slices of bread and meat to keep dust and insects out of their sherry glasses.  That story made me wish I had placed a…

Barrio Cafe – Phoenix, Arizona

A neighborhood should never be defined solely by grids and lines on a map or by a physical area where people live.  Nor should a neighborhood be defined by areas made homogeneous by restrictive covenants.  Neither should it be defined by brick-and-mortar landmarks.  What truly makes a neighborhood is its diverse and unique characters. Some are quirky and eccentric, some are brash and loud, others are indistinct and don’t stand out, but all are essential in weaving that beautiful neighborhood tapestry, that compendium of personalities that make up a community. The 16th Street “Barrio” neighborhood in Phoenix, Arizona is rich in both characters and character.  The latter is evident in the color wheel of unabashedly audacious and brash murals festooning the…

Haus Murphy’s – Glendale, Arizona

To some of us of a certain age and generation, the term “grandma’s food” evokes emotionally-arousing childhood memories of the foods our grandmothers would prepare. That’s especially true for those of us who no longer have those heaven-sent treasures.  Food was just one of the many ways grandma showed how much she loved her family.  Memories of grandma’s cooking sustain us and bring a flood of warm, fuzzy, happy memories to us–powerful memories that touch our senses of taste, touch, smell.  For the sentimental among us, “grandma’s food” summons the sense of love and happy familiarity in our hearts.   For restaurateur Thomas Hauck, the term “grandma’s food” also represents how German food is perceived by an American dining public…

Richardson’s Cuisine of New Mexico – Phoenix, Arizona

My friend and former Intel colleague Steve Caine will forever rue the day he asked me to help him with an expense report for a business trip he made to Portland, Oregon. His itemized expense report indicated he had dined twice at Chevy’s, a middling quality Americanized Mexican restaurant which wouldn’t survive in the tough Albuquerque market.   I teased him mercilessly. Worse, when my boss saw what the commotion was all about, he immediately put Steve on double-secret probation. Steve has never lived down visiting a Chevy’s in Portland where he could have had some of the country’s freshest and best seafood. When the din died down, Steve admitted somewhat sheepishly that after two days in Portland, he was…

Fat Ox – Scottsdale, Arizona

In the Alpine village of Carrù in the Piedmont region of Italy stands the “Monumento al Bue Grasso” (monument to a fat ox).  Depicting two fat oxen under yoke, the monument celebrates the beast of burden so important to the region.  December’s ‘Fiera del Bue Grasso’ (festival of the fat ox) brings together tens of thousands of visitors who come to gaze at the oxen and eat copious amounts of deliciously warming tripe soup and boiled beef, washed down with a milled wine.   Farmers from throughout the region truck their oxen into town to show them off and vie for the chance to win the honored title of the “fattest ox.” Onlookers gather well before dawn to admire these…

DeFalco’s Deli: Italian Eatery & Grocery – Scottsdale, Arizona

My Kim usually leaves the recitation of movie or television quotes to me (apparently it’s a guy thing), but every once in a while she’ll surprise me with an utterance or exclamation she could have picked up only from the big screen or idiot box.  When we strode into DeFalco’s Italian Eatery & Grocery, she approached an employee and–doing her best to channel New Jersey mobster Tony Soprano–asked “where’s da gabagool?”.  She had no intention of buying gabagool and doesn’t even like the stuff much.  The moment just seemed appropriate.   Here we were in an Italian grocery brimming with comestibles you’d find at the best East Coast Italian delis and my Kim followed up her question with “gabagool is…

Cornish Pasty Company – Scottsdale, Arizona

There’s a European joke that uses stereotypes to deride British cooking, among the most maligned cuisines in the world culinary stage. As the joke goes, in the European conception of heaven, the French are the chefs, the British are the police, the Germans are the engineers, and so forth, while in the European conception of Hell, the Germans are the police, the French are the engineers and the British are the chefs. Rodney Dangerfield got more respect than British cuisine. While fish and chips are probably what most Americans would answer if asked what constitutes traditional British food, the truth is British food is as diverse as its many regions. During the three plus years we lived in England, we…

Portillo’s Hot Dogs – Tempe, Arizona

Portillo’s story is the story of the American dream, a rags to riches saga that began with a single hot dog stand opening in 1963. That single investment has blossomed into a multi-million per year chain with six different concepts and more than 40 restaurants in the Chicago area alone. The Portillo’s Restaurant Group has become, in fact, the largest privately-owned restaurant company in the Midwest. Among Chicagoland expatriates with whom I’ve worked (and one whom I married) Portillos is consistently named as one of the things they miss most about living in the Windy City. Expatriates like my Kim know there isn’t anything like Portillo’s anywhere else in America.  Other than frequent trips to the Chicago area, their only…

Butters Pancakes & Cafe – Scottsdale, Arizona

“Spread your tiny wings and fly away And take the snow back with you Where it came from on that day So, little snowbird take me with you when you go To the land of gentle breezes where the peaceful waters flow.” ~ Anne Murray Every autumn, gaggles of geese, flocks of ducks, kettles of hawks and constructions of cranes begin their long, arduous migration from the continent’s northern regions to warmer climes in the South. They fly in formation to more idyllic and much warmer locales such as the Bosque del Apache in New Mexico. Similarly, large numbers of pasty-skinned human migrants from Canada and the northern tier of the fruited plains leave behind the rigors of snow shoveling,…

The Turquoise Room – Winslow, Arizona

The concept of “fast food” had a far different connotation during the Southwest’s Frontier days than it does today. This is especially true if one traveled via railroad through hundreds of miles of desolate, open country. In the more densely populated and genteel east there were often several cities between most destinations. This allowed for frequent rest and refreshment stops. Passengers rode in relative comfort in Pullman cars with dining cars. In the wide open west, only twenty minutes were allowed during each of the infrequent stops. Further, the food was as miserable as the travel conditions. According to Keith L. Bryant’s History of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway, “meat was greasy and usually fried, beans were canned,…