El Guero Canelo – Tucson, Arizona

If asked to participate in a word association exercise, any well-traveled foodie undergoing psychoanalysis would find it easy to name the first food that comes to mind when a city is mentioned: Philadelphia – the Philly cheesesteak sandwich; Boston – baked beans; Chicago – Italian beef sandwiches; San Francisco – sourdough bread; Milwaukee – butter burgers; San Antonio, New Mexico – green chile cheeseburgers.  You get the point.  Some foodies might not know that Philadelphia is the birthplace of liberty, but they know about Geno’s and Pat’s King of Steaks and their decades-long battle for Philly cheesesteak supremacy. You might find it strange that seemingly pedestrian foods would be the defining cuisine of burgeoning cosmopolitan cities, historically significant metropolises and…

Italian Daughter – Scottsdale, Arizona

“I am my father’s daughter, the Italian daughter” proclaims restaurateur Melissa Maggiore-Meyer on the Italian Daughter’s website.  As the daughter of famed Phoenix chef and restaurant impressario Tomaso Maggiore, it seems almost predestined that she would follow in her father’s Sasquatch-like footsteps.  At an early age, Melissa’s father taught her the beauty and joy a great meal can bring to one’s life.  She cherishes the memories of gathering around the table with family and friends, sharing stories, laughter, wine, and of course, a great dish of pasta.  Her love for the cuisine of her Italian heritage was cemented by extensive travel to Italy with her father. Melissa’s passion  for food, wine, and hospitality supplanted her pursuit of a Journalism  degree…

The Farm at South Mountain – Phoenix, Arizona

There are two indulgences we miss when we visit Tempe: New Mexico’s incomparable cuisine and the coffee we wake up to every morning.  My sister Anita assures us there are now several restaurants in the Valley of the Sun which serve New Mexican cuisine that is more than passable though we have yet to visit any of them.  While our landlords graciously provide a coffee pot, we don’t ever seem to remember to pack our beloved Douwe Egberts coffee from the Netherlands.  Okay, maybe that’s just an excuse to visit Black Rock Coffee in Tempe which serves a very good Mexican mocha. Aside from the coffee, what we enjoy most about Black Rock is being able to sit out on…

The Dhaba – Tempe, Arizona

I joked with our friend Kris Lincoln about the irony of introducing an Indian to Indian cuisine.  I’m going to pin that paradox on Christopher Columbus.  Legend has it that Columbus used the term “Indian” to refer to the original inhabitants of the American continent.  It’s widely believed (though more romanticized than accurate) that he used the term “Indian” because he was convinced he had landed in “The Indies” (Asia) where he hoped to discover a new source of wealth,  Whether attributable to confusion or an education system that often perpetuates mistaken beliefs, the label “Indian” has stuck. That misnomer is widely used across the fruited plain–even by many indigenous peoples of the western hemisphere.  In the 1960s, the term…

Joe’s Farm Grill – Gilbert, Arizona

When primitive men, women and asgender people crossed the Bering Straits to escape global freezing, they eventually made their way to the Phoenix area.  Ever since, their progeny has been trying to figure out how to escape global scorching which transpires on most summer days (seven or eight months a year).  They built Biosphere 2, the world’s largest controlled environment.  They built a swimming pool in Chase Field, home of the Arizona Diamondbacks.  When compelled to leave the air conditioned confines of their homes, Phoenicians risk third-degree burns from their car doors and  flee to their summer homes in Prescott and Heber where instead of 130, the temperature is only 99. They also join hordes of tourists in a utopian…

Alter Ego – Tempe, Arizona

Ever since my wonderful 94-year young mom was no longer able to prepare and host lavish Christmas Day dinners at her home, my Kim and I have been “snowbirding” it with annual trips to the Valley of The Sun.  Every year I try to surprise my Kim with a better than the previous year’s Christmas dinner at some fancy schmantzy restaurant.  Last year it was at the magnificent Zinc Bistro in Scottsdale.  The previous year, we dined at Roy’s Restaurant, also in Scottsdale.  Our inaugural Christmas dinner in the Phoenix area was at the Fat Ox, a  James Beard nominated restaurant in Scottsdale.  All served us fabulous (albeit very expensive) meals. My criteria for selecting a restaurant includes, of course,…

Big Nate’s Family BBQ – Mesa, Arizona

“The Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man’s ribs and then closed up the place with flesh. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man” ~Genesis 2:21-22 Ever since God took a rib from Adam and created Eve with it, Adam and Eve’s male desccendents have been craving ribs almost as if wanting to replace the one God took. Whether short ribs, baby back ribs, spare ribs, St. Louis style ribs, or any other type of of rib, the scions of the first couple have a rapacious appetite for…

The Chuck Box – Tempe, Arizona

“I’ll have the great big one,” the barrel-chested behemoth behind me chortled.  One of his companions, a bookish nerd followed up with “I’ll have the big one.”  Not to be outdone, several male Arizona State University (ASU) students took turns ordering either the “great big one” or the “big one.”  Each order was followed by raucous laughter as if they were the first students ever to place their orders for burgers named for their respective sizes (the burgers, not the students’ manhood).  Not one of them dared ask for “the little one” for fear of being humiliated or even ostracized by their fellows.  “What a brilliant marketing strategy!,” I thought as I, too, ordered a “great big one” even though…

Cocina Chiwas – Tempe, Arizona

Chef Armando Hernandez is my new hero.  In an interview with the Phoenix New Times, he was asked about “authentic Mexican cuisine.”  His retort was scathingly brilliant: “It’s very difficult for me to have these conversations, especially among our own people, about what’s considered authentic.  “They’ll be like, ‘Well, my Grandma-’ and I’m like, yeah, I’m not your Grandma though.”  Those of us who grew up in the Land of Enchantment when our distinctive cuisine was widely labeled “Mexican” remain somewhat in the dark about differences between New Mexican cuisine and that of our Southern neighbor.   It was only rather recently that cognoscenti determined New Mexican cuisine is different enough from Mexico’s to warrant its own label–New Mexican. Perhaps…

Guido’s Chicago Meat & Deli – Scottsdale, Arizona

For years now, my Kim and I have largely eschewed American television, especially its sophomoric, lowbrow and “meant for voyeurs” reality shows.  We’ve been increasingly gravitating to an almost exclusive viewership of British television which we’ve found to be meant for grown-ups rather than children.  British television programs offer a sophistication direly absent in American programming.  British programs tend to be more substantive, refined and of much higher quality than their American counterparts.  That assessment applies to mysteries, comedies, dramas and even commercials. The final nail in the coffin for American television were two absolutely unwatchable reality shows:  The Kardashians and Jersey Shore.  Both showcase obnoxious, self-aggrandizing and vacuous characters with no redeeming characteristics.  The Jersey Show, for example, made…

Sugar Jam – Scottsdale, Arizona

I often describe my youth in rural, agrarian Peñasco as “bumpkinly naïveté.”  I may have been book smart (and insolent) enough to intimidate some of my teachers, but insofar as experiential smarts, I was one pretty sheltered guy.  The very first black people I ever saw up close were Drew and Shane Roebuck, gazelle-quick running backs for Menaul High School.   I wanted to kill them…not because they were black, but because I couldn’t catch them.  You see, I had a reputation as a fierce tackler.  It didn’t matter the race, ethnicity, religious affiliation or favorite breakfast cereal, I wanted to tackle everyone in a uniform that didn’t have Peñasco’s blue and gold. In basic military training for the Air…