Mulas – Corrales, New Mexico

How many times have you heard an elected official referred to as a “jackass?”  In the village of Corrales, that term could conceivably not be used as a pejorative.  Every year during the last weekend of the Corrales Harvest Festival, a pet mayor is named.  If the newly elected mayor is unable to fulfill his or her duties, a pet mayor pro tem is named to assume the duties of the mayoral office.  Corrales has long prided itself on being a paragon of democratic values and inclusivity though the winning candidate is usually a dog or a horse.  In 2022, the winning candidate was a peacock and in 2020, it was  Chip, a five month old miniature donkey. Unlike human elections in which the legitimacy of campaign fund sources (and how those funds are used) is often in question, pet mayor elections are based on a tally of dollar-ballots cast for each.   Votes are one dollar each with ballot boxes available throughout the village.  Nor will you find candidates bad-mouthing one another or railing against fake media coverage.  Campaign slogans tend to be more friendly, too. In 2021, for example, Jewel, a Standard Poodle’s slogan was “The world needs…

Restoration Pizza – Albuquerque, New Mexico

My dad taught me very early on that all people have inherent worth and dignity and are deserving of respect and kindness. A lifelong educator, he had a knack for reaching students deemed incorrigible or unteachable–students the “system” would just as soon discard. During his funeral nearly forty-five years ago, these were the students who cried hardest. They had just lost their biggest advocate, a teacher who believed in them, at times more than they believed in themselves. What set my dad apart from other teachers is that he demanded–and consequently received– no less than the best effort a student could put forth. He tried to instill that attitude in all students–demand the best of yourself, strive to achieve as much as you can. For my dad, they did. They reveled in making “Mr G.” proud of them. American historian Henry Adams once said “A teacher affects eternity.  He can never tell where his influence stops.”  Almost invariably when we visit Peñasco, one of his former students approaches me with stories of the work and life skills they learned from my dad.  Their gratitude is heartfelt and deep.  One developmentally challenged and very sheltered student recalled how she had never…

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…

Piccolino Italian Restaurant – Santa Fe, New Mexico

When I asked Gaby (our server Gabriela) what the Italian name “Piccolino” translates to, she didn’t have a clue.  She asked Olga Tarango-Jimenez, the restaurant’s co-owner who also seemed at a loss, but shared the restaurant’s very interesting history.  When my Kim Googled “Piccolino, she found it translates to “little one” and has such slang alternatives as “teeny weeny.”  Talk about a fitting name.  I joked with Gaby that if she ever called her diminutive in stature boss “teeny weeny” she’d probably find out her boss has a giant temper. Just how small is Piccolino?  Before its transmogrification into one of Santa Fe’s most popular Italian restaurants, its Liliputian digs housed a Church’s chicken and before that a gas station.  Piccolino is situated off the beaten just a few blocks north of heavily trafficked Cerrillos and a hair or two east of Siler.  Square footage not withstanding, Piccolino optimizes its space while still managing to provide better than personal space proximity.  Somehow it looks a whole lot larger when you marvel at all the “Best of Santa Fe” awards accorded by readers of The Santa Fe Reporter.  All but one of those certificates designate Piccolino as Santa Fe’s best Italian.…

Dr. Field Goods Kitchen – Santa Fe, New Mexico

At first contemplation, Dr. Field Goods sounds like a strange name for a restaurant. To the lexicologist in me, it brought to mind the Hippocrates missive “Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food.” To the white-coat-syndrome suffering, borderline iatrophobe in me, the name sent shivers down my spine. To the gastronome in me who finally realized the emphasis is on “field goods” and not on “Doctor,” the name elicited a curiosity that wouldn’t be sated, especially after an effusive recommendation from the Lobo Lair (good luck finding the specific post). As you’ve probably surmised, Dr. Field Goods is all about using fresh, local ingredients (“field goods”), a farm-to-table approach which delights the locavores among us who prefer consuming foods that are produced locally, not shipped long distances to market. The farm-to-table movement in New Mexico is more than just alive and well. It’s thriving with several exemplars who do it exceedingly well. With expectations high for a restaurant named Dr. Field Goods, it’s got a lot to live up to. The “Doctor” is Chef Josh Gerwin, an accomplished MD (master of deliciousness) who’s cut a wide swath across Northern New Mexico’s culinary landscape. Chef Gerwin earned his…

Firenze Pizzeria – Albuquerque, New Mexico (CLOSED)

Name a pizza joint “Florence Pizzeria” and public reaction would likely be dubious:  “Who the heck is Florence?”  “Can someone named Florence possibly have a clue how to make pizza?”  Now translate “Florence” to Italian and all of a sudden, “Firenze Pizzeria” has instant credibility.  Never mind that most of the pizza in Florence (er, Firenze), Italy is of the Neapolitan variety.  The name Firenze is a perfect fit for a pizzeria.  Even the name inspires visions of a fire-breathing Italian oven preparing a waifishly thin pizza in just about a minute. Steven Meyer, owner-operator of Albuquerque’s Firenze Pizzeria knows a thing or two about fire-breathing ovens and waifishly thin pizzas.  In 2011, he pioneered portable pizza in the Duke City, toting an Italian-made oven throughout the city.  Being booked every weekend for nearly two years for special events, catering and a semi-permanent gig at the Downtown Growers’ Market at Robinson Park facilitated the decision to seek a permanent venue.  He found the perfect spot at 900 Park Avenue, S.W., just across Central Avenue to Robinson Park. The two-story edifice Firenze called home for nearly nine years had plenty of character and personality.  One of its neighbors was the lair…

Scarpas Brick Oven Pizza – Albuquerque, New Mexico

As an essayist of the New Mexico culinary condition, it’s easy to be lured in by new restaurants, those bright and shiny beacons of promise.  Sadly, critics (and those of us who play them in movies and television) gravitate toward new restaurants with the expectation of newness, something heretofore different and amazing.  We often do this at the expense of tried-and-true, established and proven restaurants which haven’t ever let us down.  For every new restaurant I visit, there are hundreds of old favorites to which I don’t return often enough.  One such personal favorite is Scarpas, a long-time fixture on Academy.  Prior to our visit in January, 2023, our previous visit was in December, 2006.  That’s far too long! Academy has been home to Scarpas since entrepreneur and restaurant impresario Jim Schumacher opened it in 1995.  For years later, he opened a second Scarpas, this one on Montgomery.  Schumaker, you might remember, was the long-time owner of The Cooperage, a Lomas mainstay since 1976.   In 2020, Joe Sommers, a Scarpas employee from day one, purchased the restaurant from Schumacher. Not too much later, The Cooperage shut down for good. In 2021, year two of year the world’s nightmare, the Montgomery…

Tomato Cafe – Albuquerque, New Mexico

You like potato and I like potahto, You like tomato and I like tomahto Potato, potahto, Tomato, tomahto, Let’s call the whole thing off – Ira & George Gershwin Prior to the introduction of tomatoes in 1548, the Italian diet was largely similar to the diet throughout the rest of the Mediterranean. Such staples as bread, pasta, olives, and beans were commonplace, as was a variety of different types of polenta. The Italian diet of the time varied depending on region: fish featured heavily near the coast while inland regions would rely more on pork and wild game. Garlic, onion, pepper and onion oil was used to add flavor.  Olive oil also held a central role in the region’s cuisine.  While a Mediterranean diet is delicious and even healthy, it’s certainly not as popular as Italian food has become across the world thanks largely to the now ubiquitous tomato. Tomatoes were initially received with skepticism on account of their unusual qualities. They were associated with eggplant, another foreign vegetable introduced to Europe from abroad (in this case from the Middle East). Similar to tomatoes, it took hundreds of years for eggplant to become an accepted ingredient in the Italian diet.…

Cibo – Phoenix, Arizona

Inasmuch as they’re both Romance languages, there are a lot of similarities between Spanish and Italian.  Because Spanish was my first language, if spoken slowly enough I can probably understand thirty-percent of what is spoken in Italian.  Alas, not all Spanish and Italian terms are lexical cognates.  That is, they don’t have the same etymology or derivation.  For example, the Italian term “mangia” means “eat up” (naturally, it’s one of my favorite Italian words) while perhaps its closest Spanish equivalent is “come.”  Another Italian culinary term every self-respecting gastronome recognizes is “cibo” which translates in English to “food.” In Italy, life revolves around the preparation and enjoyment of good food (cibo buono).   Hmm, maybe I should have been born Italian?   As a gastronomo prolifico (the Italian AND Spanish translation for both words), I feel a profound connection to Elena Davis who writes the fabulous blog Cucina by Elena in which she shares recipes and memories of having grown up in Lo Stivale.  She’s a lady after my own heart.  Take this paragraph:  “In Italy, if we aren’t eating, we are probably talking about eating.  The word Mangia (verb: mangiare), pronounced man-juh, definition: eat-up!!”  Yes, you literally say it…

Bottega Pizzeria Ristorante – Glendale, Arizona

In a Phoenix.org feature published in November, 2022, David Tynda declared that Phoenix is a top city for pizza. “I say to people that I believe Phoenix is the pizza capital of the U.S. and I wait for them to slap me across the face,” said Tyda, the co-manager of Phoenix Festivals.  The Matador Network agreed: “Phoenix is a slice of pizza heaven. Yes, that Phoenix, the one where it’s nearly hot enough in the summer to cook said pizza on the sidewalk. While Chicago and New York were dueling it out for pizza supremacy, Phoenix was quietly building an army of pizza joints that could dethrone Naples.” Not that very long ago, most of the nation’s crusty cognoscenti conceded “It may not be New York or Chicago, but the pizza’s not bad,”   a culinary equivalent of saying a girl isn’t very pretty, but she’s got a great personality.  Only a critic with masochistic tendencies would dispute the superiority of Pizzeria Bianco, but every other pizzeria in the Valley of the Sun barely warranted a mention on any national dialogue about pizza.  Most conversations about pizza in the Valley of the Sun still begin with Pizzeria Bianco, but alongside…

Uptown Saggio’s Scratch Italian Kitchen – Albuquerque, New Mexico

Can you imagine the outcry if Governor Michelle Lujan Grisham tried to abolish New Mexico’s sacrosanct red and green chile because the Department of Cultural Affairs Secretary convinced her that chile doesn’t bring out the best in New Mexicans?  Such a treasonous and heretical act would probably provoke outrage, if not an outright revolution.  Thankfully our Governor is a tremendous advocate for our home state’s hallowed and official state vegetable.  Regardless of your political affiliation, you can’t help puffing up your chest with pride when she responds to a snarky tweet from Colorado’s governor claiming Colorado’s chile is superior. That dystopian scenario sounds too outlandish to ever happen.  It would be akin to Italy trying to abolish pasta.  Wait, that actually did happen.  In the decade before World War II, an up-and-coming art movement called The Futurists derided anything that wasn’t on the cutting edge of modern. They wanted Italy to be on the front lines of the future and saw one thing holding the entire country back—its love of pasta.  The movement believed pasta was “heavy and anti-virile,” claiming that “no true fighters would ever eat pasta because of its tendency to weigh you down.” They also made it clear…