Culinary Dropout – Scottsdale, Arizona

With a name like Culinary Dropout, you might expect an edgy and provocative venue, something hip and trendy where all the beautiful blonde  women of Scottsdale come to mix with bad boys.  That expectation might be reenforced by Old Town Scottsdale website which describes Culinary Dropout:  “From the chefs on the line with silver-studded ears and Mohawk hairdo, to the inked-up, decked-out bar staff mixologists shaking and stirring some of the most creative cocktails, we’re all dropouts here.”  Instead, we found a rather innocuous vibe, akin to maybe Chili’s on a slightly rowdy day. Most of the diners were coupled, some ferrying toddlers carrying the gene code that will propagate beautiful blondes.  Others strode in with pampered pooches in strollers that cost more than our car.  Live music was smooth and mellow, the antithesis of raucous rock we had expected. Heck, many people who might use that mild oath were among the crowd. Located in the pricey real estate section of Scottsdale’s Old Town (Waterfront), Culinary Dropout may defy any impression you may have based on its name alone.  You might find, as we did, it’s family friendly, grandma approved.  Now that I’ve ruined its reputation, let me tell you what…

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…