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 Force, I shared close quarters with young men of every demographic.  It was the start of many beautiful friendships.  Over the course of an entire military career, many of my best friends were black.  Some of those friendships were borne of proximity and job, but flourished from the heart.  Even today–some 28 years after my retirement–fond recollection of such wonderful black friends as Dwayne (not The Rock) Johnson, Patrick Fields, Michael Gordon, Moe Myers and so many others remind me…

Grimaldi’s Pizzeria – Scottsdale, Arizona

I don’t often refer to myself as a “restaurant critic” or “restaurant reviewer.” My preferred gloss is “observer and essayer on the culinary condition.”   Yep, that’s a high falutin bit of ego-stroking, but it’s accurate.  One of the things I’ve observed during frequent trips to the Phoenix area–both while employed at Intel and while snowbirding over the Christmas and Festivus holidays–is that middling quality chain restaurants tend to find a home in the Valley of the Sun an year or two before figuring out they would be smash successes in Albuquerque. Another salient obseration is that some pretty highly regarded East Coast and Midwest restaurants and chefs don’t like the cold either…or maybe they’re following the exodus of snowbirds wanting to escape the miserable winter weather.  Ted’s Hot Dogs, a Buffalo refugee turned Valley mainstay since the 1980s was among the first.  Grimaldi’s, a New York City institution which can trace its lineage to America’s pizza pioneers, followed suit a few years later.   Strewn across the Valley are such Chicago transplants as Lou Malnati’s, Rosati’s Pizza and the perpetually mispronounced Portillo’s.  Every one of these restaurants has maintained a presence where they got their starts, but are also…

Source – Gilbert, Arizona

When Chef Claudio Urciuoli posed for a photograph with Source’s baker Ryan and chef Trevor, he sported a smile.  I joked with him about his stern countenance and he assured me that he really does have a sense of humor.  Despite the dissolution of his partnership at Pa’La, the acclaimed chef has every reason to smile.  He’s once again doing what he wants to do, operating a restaurant whose approach and raison d’etre are encapsulated in this statement from the restaurant’s website:  We are an ingredient driven, community centered, counter service restaurant, wine bar, and retail shop. Chef Urciuoli does indeed have a sense of humor and a personal warmth that really came across during our conversation.  He shared his vision for a casual Mediterranean restaurant where it’s all about the quality of ingredients.  He pointed out that Source is a counter-service affair with baked goods front and center at the counter and a menu suspended overhead.  All tableware is compostable save for wine glasses.  That speaks to his commitment to doing his part for the environment.  It irks him how relatively little the water-starved Valley is doing to conserve water.  He also believes much more could be done to…

Gray’s Coors Tavern – Pueblo, Colorado

Dante Alighieri’s classic poem “A Divine Comedy” recounts a spiritual journey in which the author was guided by ancient Roman poet Virgil through hell, purgatory, and paradise.  Their path takes them through the nine circles of Hell where they witness the punishments suffered for all eternity by the souls of deceased sinners.  The deepest circle of Hell, where Satan resides, is reserved for history’s worst traitors–Judas Iscariot, Brutus, Cassius…and maybe a certain New Mexico food blogger who not only admits there is wonderful green chile to be found outside the paradise that is the Land of Enchantment; he believes it’s possibly just as good, even better than some New Mexico chile.  That chile, from Pueblo, Colorado isn’t just an “it’ll do” substitute, but a bona fide equal (or superior) to much of the green chile grown in Hatch, Chimayo, Lemitar, Deming, Jarales and any number of other purveyors of chile fecundity across New Mexico.   “Gasp!  Heresy!” you lash out.  “Next you’re going to tell us the Denver Broncos, not the Dallas Cowboys, are America’s team.  Before you condemn me to an eternity of wailing, gnashing of teeth and non-stop watching of The View, hear me out.  My “heretical declaration” is based…

The Rock Inn Mountain Tavern – Estes Park, Colorado

During my years at St. Anthony’s in Peñasco, I frequently tried the patience of the saintly nuns.   Thankfully capital punishment was not permissible or you wouldn’t be reading this.  It’s bad enough I wore out a few rulers and hopefully one elderly nun’s knuckles which often found their way to my head (that may explain a few things).  I wasn’t a malicious student, just one who didn’t always conform.  It wasn’t the age of “doing your own thing” though I certainly did my best to be an individual.  Albeit, I was an individual who didn’t do his homework or study for tests (but still managed to ace them all). My antics were never deliberately destructive.  In some ways I was like a gangly newborn giraffe trying to get my legs under me.  Unusually tall for an elementary school student in Northern New Mexico, I was a poster child for clumsiness.  Fellow students feared my lack of coordination would result in injury.  When the nuns insisted on having us square dance, the girls feared my do-si-do more than they did an impromptu math quiz.  My dancing resembled a combination of roller skating on ice and steer wrestling.    My Kim…

The Post Chicken & Beer – Estes Park, Colorado

In 1974 prolific author Stephen King and his wife Tabitha spent a night in Room 217 of The Stanley, a a 140-room Colonial Revival hotel in Estes Park, about five miles from the entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park.  The hotel staff was preparing to close the hotel for the season so the Kings found themselves the only guests in the place.  King wrote about the experience on his website: “Wandering through its corridors, I thought that it seemed the perfect—maybe the archetypical—setting for a ghost story. That night I dreamed of my three-year-old son running through the corridors, looking back over his shoulder, eyes wide, screaming. He was being chased by a fire-hose. I woke up with a tremendous jerk, sweating all over, within an inch of falling out of bed. I got up, lit a cigarette, sat in the chair looking out the window at the Rockies, and by the time the cigarette was done, I had the bones of the book firmly set in my mind.” As you ascend the hill leading to The Stanley, you’re struck at the grandeur and immensity of the complex.  It’s hard to imagine Jack Nicholson demolishing a door with an axe,…

Cafe Genevieve – Jackson, Wyoming

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 missing New Mexican food so desperately that he visited the closed facsimile he could find. It was either Chevy’s or a restaurant named Machissimo Mouse (seriously). In truth, I’ve been there, too…well, not to Chevy’s and definitely not to Machissimo Mouse, but at a point in my business travels where the craving for New Mexico’s inimitable cuisine strikes like an addict’s need for a fix. My Kim and I had been away from New Mexico for eleven days during our June,…

Miazga’s – Jackson, Wyoming

The Jackson Hole Valley is so breathtaking that in the 1970s when the US launched Voyager II into space, scientists attached an Ansel Adams photograph of the valley as a representation of life on Earth in the event aliens discovered the vessel.  Spanning two spectacular mountain ranges (the Grand Tetons and Grand Ventres), Jackson Hole just may be the most picturesque valley on the planet.  It’s an Eden with winter.  It’s also among the most expensive and desirable havens in the universe.  Space aliens captivated by the Ansel Adams photograph and wanting to visit had better up the credit limits on their credit cards.  They might also have to lower their expectations as to  intelligent life on Earth.  The valley is home away from home to Kanye West and Kim Kardashian among other glitterati.  Well-heeled aliens will find luxurious amenities throughout the valley.  Four- and five-star resorts and hotels offer world-class services, dining options and spas sure to spoil any extraterrestrial.  So will concierge services that lead to the very best of the Valley.  It won’t be longe before our sojourning aliens are getting fitted for tuxes and gowns so they can attend film, music and art events.  Soon they’ll…

Bigwood Bread Cafe – Ketchum, Idaho

Ernest Hemingway spent much of the roaring twenties in Paris, a city whose own liberal attitudes attracted poets, painters and writers from throughout the world. Paris was a vibrant city which drew many expats from the so-called “lost generation” of cynical young people disillusioned with the materialism and individualism prevalent in society at the time.  As a young writer penning “A Moveable Feast,” Hemingway observed: “You got very hungry when you did not eat enough in Paris,” because all the bakery shops had such good things in the windows and people ate outside at tables on the sidewalk so that you saw and smelled the food.” An avid outdoorsman, Ernest Hemingway, was a Sun Valley habitué even before establishing a permanent residence in Ketchum two years before his death in 1961.  One of Hemingway’s favorite watering holes was The Sawtooth Club, a decidedly masculine appointed establishment where he would have been right at home.  While enjoying breakfast at Bigwood Bread about a mile north of The Sawtooth Club, I wondered to myself if Hemingway would have enjoyed that bread.  Surely after having experienced Paris and its incomparable boulangeries, he would have become addicted to bread.   Alas, Bigwood Bread, the…

The Sawtooth Club – Ketchum, Idaho

Our server Kara (who resembles Maggie Gyllenhaal but much more attractive) reasons that The Sawtooth Club is the number one restaurant in the country.  That was news to me so I asked how she arrived at that conclusion.  Her reasoning is that the Sawtooth Club has been the highest rated restaurant in the Sun Valley for five consecutive years.  The Sun Valley is currently rated the number one ski resort in the country.  Ergo, one highest rated restaurant plus one highest rated ski resort equals the best restaurant in the country.  That’s akin to fuzzy math, but Kara is so cute I was almost inclined to agree with her. From the balcony of our rental in Ketchum, Idaho we could almost make out the steep, grassy slopes which weeks before had been covered in snow.  What we couldn’t see at all was the craggy Sawtooth Mountains which backdrop the village of Ketchum and the fabled Sun Valley.  Most of the valley was shrouded in pea soup-thick soup with a persistent rain falling throughout much of our two day stay.  The Sawtooth Mountains hold a special place in my imagination as well as Hollywood’s.  Movies such as the visually stunning Jeremiah…

Ansots Basque Cuisine – Boise, Idaho

Historian Jan Morris wrote “Basque is one of the world’s more alarming languages. Only a handful of adult foreigners, they say, have ever managed to learn it. The Devil tried once and mastered only three words – profanities, I assume.”  Ellie Ansotegui, co-owner (along with her father Dan) of Ansots Basque Cuisine in Boise, Idaho lived in Basque Country for a year where she studied the language, enhancing the intermediate proficiency she had acquired growing up in a Basque family.  Alas, she returned to her Boise hometown and without practicing it faithfully, quickly lost the additional mastery she acquired in Spain. Ellie has advanced writing, reading, listening, and speaking proficiency in Spanish.  For fear of not being understood, I didn’t speak my New Mexican Spanish to her or her father.  It’s the “two nations separated by a common language” axiom that occurs literally anywhere you meet someone from “somewhere else.”  There is one universal language Ellie shares with guests at her family’s restaurant.  That’s the language of food. In a world in which there are is over 7,000 estimated languages, the language of food is universal!  Ellie spoke food very well with me, my Kim and my dear friend Dr.…