GELATO DOLCE VITA & ITALIAN GROCER – Mesa, Arizona

“La Grassa” (The Fat One) is the nickname of Bologna, Italy.  While that sobriquet may seem unflattering, Bologna bears it with honor.  This city in the north-central region of the country is considered the “gastronomic heart of Italy,” a place where food is an art form and a passion.   This may be best exemplified by one of the foods born in Bologna.  I’m talking, of course, about gelato.  Throughout “Lo Stivale” (the boot, a nickname bestowed upon Italy because the shape of the peninsula resembles a high-heeled boot) gelato is revered.  Not surprisingly, Bologna is not only the home of Italy’s oldest university (and the oldest in the western world), but home to Carpigiani, “Gelato University.” Mesa, Arizona is the home of two of Carpigiani’s distinguished alumni.  Both Walter Bergamaschi and Marti Printy, founders of the Gelato Dolce Vita attended the Gelato University.   Having grown up in Bergamo, about two-and-a-half hours from Bologna, they have been around superior gelato all their lives.  In 2010, they launched Gelato Dolce Vita (literally “Gelato Sweet Life) in Mesa.  At the time there were only two gelato shops in Phoenix.  Ice cream shops dominated the market.  In time, customers began to appreciate the difference…

Joe’s Pasta House – Rio Rancho, New Mexico

Much as they might wish for it to happen, no restaurateur can make their restaurant THE hometown favorite.  It happens organically and it happens only by the unanimous will and consent of the people.  Similarly, it takes the acclamation of the dining public for a restaurant to become THE heartbeat of a community–where residents go to interact with one another in a convivial spirit of sharing a great meal. A restaurant has to prove itself every single time with every single guest.  It must offer a combination of memorable food, a homey look and feel and mostly, personable, attentive service.  There can be no such thing as a “bad day.”  To find the template for how a restaurant becomes the heartbeat of a community and the undisputed favorite restaurant in a hometown you need look no further than Joe’s Pasta House, a paragon of service excellence and culinary deliciousness where all guests are treated like family. While dining out has always been an essential part of Rio Rancho’s cosmology, in its nascent days residents had to drive down the hill or across the river to enjoy restaurants that weren’t national chains. Then in 1999, Joe and Kassie Guzzardi assumed ownership…

Scalo – Albuquerque, New Mexico (CLOSED)

Contrary to popular belief, Scalo was not already a Nob Hill fixture in 1706 when Don Francisco Cuervo y Valdés, governor and captain general of New Mexico, named a new settlement for the Duke of Alburquerque, then viceroy of New Spain.  Scalo didn’t actually open until December, 1986, but during its lengthy tenure it has such a degree of permanence in our memories and taste buds that it’s hard to believe it wasn’t one of the fabled paradors (an establishment where travelers could seek lodging, and usually, food and drink) along the Camino Real.  It would make sense because the word “Scalo” itself translates from Italian to “stopover.”  Then there’s Scalo’s revered spot on the now defunct Albuquerque Monthly.  On its tenth anniversary, the magazine created a “Best Of” Hall of Fame, listing the ten establishments–restaurants, bars, card stores, clothing stores, computer stores, galleries and more–which had received more “best of” votes during the decade of the 90s than anyone else. The first establishment listed was Scalo Northern Italian Grill, which was also perennial selection on the magazine’s annual listing of the city’s top ten fine-dining restaurants (other mainstays still serving the city include the Artichoke Cafe, Prairie Star and…

JOE’S PASTA HOUSE – Rio Rancho, New Mexico

Once a year, despite my protestations and whining, I agree to take my Kim to the Olive Garden. It’s a deal we have, albeit one that makes me feel like Faust in the Christopher Marlowe play. Faust, for the non-English majors among you, was a scholar who sells his soul to the devil in exchange for unlimited knowledge and worldly pleasures. In my case, the deal is a visit to Olive Garden once a year in exchange for all the strange and exotic restaurants I want to visit the rest of the year. I sure got the rotten end of that deal. On a list of things I’d rather do, my annual visit to the Olive Garden for a meal of cheese glop or tomato torture ranks somewhere below visiting a proctologist or watching The View. Kim likes the salad and bread sticks and I suspect derives a bit of sadistic satisfaction in hearing me mutter polysyllabic epithets about the “Evil Garden’s” food. The cultural anthropologist in me finds it both amusing and tragic that teeming masses congregate for pathetic pasta, mediocre marinara and boring bread sticks. It makes me long for a visit to Joe’s Pasta house in Rio…