Honey Bear’s Barbecue – Phoenix, Arizona

Depending on the type of egg, the minimum temperature for frying an egg has been measured to be 144-158F.  That’s only a few degrees from the ideal “low and slow” temperature of smoking meats–225°F to 250°F. On scorching summer days in Phoenix, television news shows perennially traumatize visitors and tourists by frying an egg on the city’s sidewalks. It would really traumatize viewers if a pitmaster was shown manipulating the low-and-slow smoke emanating from post oak embers on a sidewalk to barbecue a brisket. In the first decade of the new millennium, frequent business trips brought me to the Valley of The Sun.  At that time, there was a serious dearth of good barbecue restaurants in the Albuquerque metropolitan area.  Among the very few was The Smokehouse Barbecue Restaurant where me and my Intel friends and colleagues practically lived.  Incomparable pitmaster Gary West kept us very well fed (particularly on Wednesdays when the amazing smoked burger was featured fare).  The Smokehouse was like an oasis in a culinary desert.  Business trips to the Phoenix area gave us an opportunity to explore smoked meats and discover very good barbecue away from the Land of Enchantment. Among our very favorite was Honey…

Jollibee – Chandler, Arizona

One visit to Jollibee might convince you you’ve visited yet another American chain restaurant.  You’d be half right.  Jollibee is a chain, but it’s a chain based out of the Philippines.  Apparently the many islands comprising The Philippines developed a taste for fried chicken and burgers during its years as a U.S. colony.  My Uncle Fred, a career Navy man stationed several times at Subic Bay (on the west coast of Luzon Island in the Philippines northwest of Manila), raved that the fried chicken, in particular, was far better than fried chicken anywhere in the United States.  Apparently he’s not the only person with that opinion. USA Today and Eater both recently named Jollibee fried chicken as the best in the country among fast-food restaurants, beating out brands such as Popeyes, Chick-fil-A, Church’s and KFC (not that you can consider that much of accomplishment considering how bad American fried chicken chains have become).  Jollibee now has about eighty locations across the fruited plain.  With my Kim hankering for fried chicken, we managed to find the only Jollibee in all of Arizona.  It’s located in Chandler, not too far from the Intel plants which I once visited for eighteen years.  Chandler,…

Manhattan Avenue Deli – Santa Fe, New Mexico

I’ve been called many things, not all of them kind, but the name I’m most proud to hold is “Gil.”  It was my father’s name.  When colleagues from Intel’s manufacturing plant in Israel met me for the first time, they asked if I was Jewish.  Apparently in Hebrew, “Gil” means “joy,” “happiness,” or “gladness.” The name “Gil” is associated with celebration and optimism.  Gil can also be used a verb, with forms like gili (my joy) or related words meaning to “rejoice” or “be glad.”  The feminine version of Gil is “Gila.”  In my travels over 39 years on this planet, I’ve met several people named Gil, but until November, 2025 had never met anyone named Gila.  That is, until my visit to the Manhattan Avenue Deli in Santa Fe. A very vivacious young lady named Julia greeted and chatted me up as I walked into the Deli.  Not surprsingly, she asked if I was Jewish.   Julia regaled me with tales of her experiences in Israel, sharing that during her time in the Holy Land, she acquired the name “Gila.”  The name certainly fits.  Julia…er, Gila is one of the most genuinely effusive and optimistic people I’ve ever met.  Sporting…

Duke City BBQ – Albuquerque, New Mexico

During a 2016 campaign event in Phoenix, Arizona, Latinos for Trump founder Marco Gutierrez warned that if the country did not adopt tighter immigration standards as proposed by Republican nominee Donald Trump, there would be “taco trucks on every corner.”  For many of us, the only conceivable retort was along the lines of “what could possibly be wrong with that?”  Tacos (Mexico) have become as American as pizza (Italy), apple pie (England), French fries (Belgium), hot dogs (Germany), peanut butter (Ancient Inca and Aztec civilizations) and barbecue (Caribbean).  These foods may not have been invented in the good ol’ USA, but we’ve adopted them.  They’re part of the fabric of what makes this country fat…er, great. It’s likely that if you didn’t grow up hearing the adage “as American as apple pie,” you may have heard a version in which barbecue takes the place of or is included with apple pie.  Barbecue, in fact, has supplanted apple pie as the proverbial All American gastronomical delight.  It’s practically a cult in some parts of the fruited plain.  At the very least, it represents a pop culture microcosm.  Americans make pilgrimages to famous pantheons of barbecue to partake of meat cooked low…

Johnnie’s Hamburgers & Coneys – El Reno, Oklahoma

“In onion is strength; and a garden without it lacks flavour. The onion, in its satin wrappings, is among the most beautiful of vegetables; and it is the only one that represents the essence of things. It can almost be said to have a soul.” ~Charles Dudley Warner, American Novelist In the vividly hued threads that comprise a diverse tapestry of culinary preferences, onions stand as a polarizing ingredient. While some of us hail onions as the backbone of flavor, others recoil at their mere mention. In some cultures, onions are associated with bad breath and are avoided in social settings. This stigma can reinforce negative perceptions, making onions less appealing to those who prioritize etiquette. The fear of “onion breath” can deter people from enjoying dishes containing onions, especially in professional or romantic settings. This concern is not unfounded; the sulfer compounds in onions are released into the bloodstream and exhaled through the lungs, making their presence hard to mask. Much of that paragraph was excerpted or paraphrased from an article titled “Why Nobody Likes Onions.”   As an unabashed paramour of the edible, bulbous vegetable with a pungent odor, I love the alliaceous aromas emanating from a kitchen in…

Java Joe’s – Albuquerque, New Mexico

“I hate chile powder.” ~Tuco Salamanca Breaking Bad, Season 2 Duty-bound to make himself available to the citizenry of the fledgling United States, newly elected president George Washington spent the night in so many private homes and inns that “George Washington Slept Here” remains a real estate cliché and tourist draw centuries later. Perhaps the closest similarly celebrated landmarks in the Albuquerque metropolitan area are the filming sites for the 16-time Emmy Award-winning television series Breaking Bad. Never mind that Albuquerque recently celebrated its Tercentennial–three hundred years of history. History is not what visitors want to see. They want to see the Duke City of Breaking Bad. Albuquerque, which itself became a character in Breaking Bad, is the home of Walter White, the down-and-out chemistry teacher who metamorphosed into “Heisenberg,” the city’s meth kingpin. Five years after the series ended, pilgrimages to every Breaking Bad filming location remain a popular draw. During my inaugural visit to Downtown Java Joe’s, a number of tourists, not all of them millennials, were snapping selfies in front of the east wall where a towering graffiti-inspired tribute to city life dominates. One of them exclaimed “this used to be Tuco’s lair.” Another chimed in, “yeah,…

The Farmacy – Albuquerque, New Mexico (CLOSED)

In this age of “fake news,” biased media slants and unabashed tell-alls, the one recent headline which has pleased me most comes from Bloomberg. Splashed in bold typeface was the eye-catching lead “Mom-and-Pop Joints Are Trouncing America’s Big Restaurant Chains.” Elaborating on this contention, the first paragraph reads: “Americans are rejecting the consistency of national restaurant chains after decades of dominance in favor of the authenticity of locally owned eateries, with their daily specials and Mom’s watercolors decorating the walls.” The numbers bear this out–“annual revenue for independents will grow about 5 percent through 2020, while the growth for chains will be about 3 percent.” Fittingly, I read this article during my inaugural visit to The Farmacy, a Lilliputian lair of luscious food then located on the southeast corner of the Mountain Road-Eighth Street intersection. If big restaurant chains and their well-heeled operations are the proverbial muscle-bound beach bullies who kick sand in the face of scrawny kids, The Farmacy embodies the small underdog who fights back with the only weapons at its disposal: great food and friendly service at an affordable price. The Farmacy is David to the Philistine’s Goliath, the plodding tortoise to the overly confident hare, unknown…

Gus’s Fried Chicken – Mesa, Arizona

As the crow flies, Nashville and Memphis are separated by about 210 miles.  You can get from one to the other of these two prominent Southern cities–that are probably best known for their signature sounds–in a speedy three hours.    Nashville sits on the north-central part of the Volunteer State.  It’s considered the cradle of country music.  Legendary pantheons of country music include the Grand Ole Opry House, the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum and historic Ryman Auditorium.  Honky-tonks throughout the city feature live music as aspiring artists and song-writers compete to be noticed. Memphis, progenitor of the blues, soul and rock n’roll, borders the mighty Mississippi at Tennessee’s west flank.  Popular landmarks include the Rock n’ Soul Museum, Blues Hall of Fame and Elvis Presley’s Graceland.  Beale Street, “America’s most iconic street,” is home to B. B. King’s Blues Club and a number of other clubs which feature the blues, soul and rock n’roll.  No other state can legitimately claim to be birthplace of four distinct genres of music as Tennessee does.  If you’re an aficionado of country, blues, soul and rock n’ roll, there’s nowhere else you might aspire to be. It isn’t solely music for which Nashville…