Moore’s the Merrier

Maybe it was watching Tommy Lee get tutored by that hot blonde in Tommy Lee Goes to College that inspired us. Or maybe it was just cruising through Tempe the other day and noticing that all the fly Arizona State University chicks are back for fall. Or perhaps we were…

The View From Vu

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory: That’s what — poof — appears in my cranium like a two-bit magician behind a puff of smoke as I walk back to my car from Vu, chef William Bradley’s chichi, yearling eatery over at the Hyatt Regency Scottsdale at Gainey Ranch. There’s one…

Tables Turned

My nostrils are so filled with the stink of keister-kissing by the other restaurant critics in this city that I long for nothing more than the hide of an overrated grub purveyor. Throughout greater Phoenix, there are plenty of culinary dinosaurs, as well as new bistros, in need of a…

To-ga! To-ga!

“There’s more white cloth in here than a Klan meetin’ in Georgia!” I spit as we cross the threshold of Old Town Scottsdale’s Dos Gringos for the club’s toga party last Thursday. “So, uh, how do I look?” “Like someone tried to tie a tablecloth around a hippo,” cracks my…

Tower of Pizza

The most superlative pizza I’ve ever scarfed was from storefront pizzerias in Manhattan and Brooklyn, usually after stumbling out of some tavern. But even when I was sober as the dreaded parson, pizza was the grub that kept me going in Gotham. And nothing that I’ve tasted outside the Five…

Ladies’ Night

“First off, no pullin’ out your ‘man,'” Mr. Luscious informs his fellow male strippers, minutes before they take to the Celebrity Theatre’s stage as the erotic revue known as The Main Event, Part 2. “You can act like you’re about to pull it out, but you better not.” “In case…

Dim Sum Days

The only deity I’ve ever had a personal affinity for is that corpulent, jolly “buddha” with a small “b” known as Jin Foo, Bu Dai, or Hotei, depending on whom you ask. Personally, Gautama Buddha, he of the Bodhi tree fame, always struck me as a bit too severe, like…

Speed Demonology

The quarter-mile drag-racing track at Speedworld Raceway Park is sticky from burnt tires, and exhaust fills our lungs like we’ve been puffin’ Pall Malls all day. Cars and motorcycles are lined up in pairs from the beginning of the two-lane blacktop, way back past the chain-link entrance, just like that…

Flan Fanatic

Flan is one of those desserts people pooh-pooh, as if its production seems too simple, or its presence in a Southwestern town like ours too prevalent. But take it from a flan-obsessed gourmand like myself: Good flan ain’t easy to find. Like tiramisu in Italian eateries, flan is often written…

Grade Inflation

I’m at a sushi bar the other day, waiting for the chef to finish up some toro nigiri for me, when I decide to pay the raw-fish maestro a compliment. I praise the swank new restaurant he works in, and comment that the sushi has improved since it first opened…

Street Regal

I’m in the back of Louis XIV’s tour bus as the San Diego group’s front man Jason Hill is knocking out a new composition on acoustic guitar on the couch next to me, something with the refrain, “I don’t want to be a fool no more.” I wait politely for…

Rib-Tickler

No slight intended to that toddlin’ town of Mesa, but few are the delectations that would motivate me to drive down to that burg in 110-degree-plus heat, with the monsoon on my tail. Exceptional barbecue is one, and exceptional barbecue Mesa now has with the opening of a Big City…

Jumbo Lovin’

“Hey, where’s the buffet?!” cries the Mandy Moore of P-town, otherwise known as Her Regal Jettiness, as we saunter into the Scottsdale sports bar known as Buster McNutty’s. “You’re tellin’ me this is a big girls’ night and there’s no buffet?” I answer her query by stepping on her big…

Hangover Helper

So I roll up on the Jettster’s crib to pick her up for another night of pimpin’ in tha PHX, and I find her parked on the couch in her raggedy jammies, eating a bowl of Cap’n Crunch and watching The Real World: Austin. “Hey, Kreme,” she mutters, scratching her…

Tepid Tapas

If I were not duty-bound to visit a restaurant more than once before reviewing it, I never would have returned to Scottsdale’s Tapas after my initial, disastrous visit. There were even a couple of points during the evening when my companion and I seriously discussed walking out. Mostly, this occurred…

Urban Legends

Does anyone else cringe when they hear of Mayor Phil Gordon’s front porch benches and how they’re now greeting visitors at Sky Harbor Airport? The mayor’s Mayberry aesthetic may have a noble intent; it’s supposed to bring us all together, and in doing so, help fight crime. But can’t we…

Sports Bar Saucy

Once in a blue moon, the Jettster and I catch hell from some fossilized old feminist who hasn’t worn a bra since 1973, doesn’t shave her ham-hocks, and, in general, looks like she just stepped out of the Shire in The Lord of the Rings. It’s always the same song:…

Crazy Love

I feel like kicking up my heels à la Tom Cruise and pumping my fist for joy. That’s right, I’m in love, and I don’t care how dirty I get Oprah’s couch! No, it’s not with some pretty young thing 16 years my junior. And no, I don’t need a…

Neo-Retro-Sexy-Cool

It’s 100 degrees at midnight, we’re chokin’ on smoke from the nearby wildfires, payday is a week away, and the streets are infested with crazed po-po who’re actin’ like the world doughnut supply has just been reduced to zero. So what the eff do you think the Jettster and I…

Reality Check

Chef Christopher Gross never misses a lick when it comes to reminding you of all the plaudits he’s picked up in his day. There’s a fairly exhaustive list on the take-home menu for Christopher’s Fermier Brasserie, Gross’ acclaimed Biltmore Fashion Park grub shack, and the list includes everything from his…

Somali Sublime

Dining in Phoenix sometimes feels like going toe-to-toe with Torquemada during the Spanish Inquisition, or at least Monty Python in that skit where they declare, “No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!” Except here, they let you choose your method of torture. Breakfast at a pretentious resort eatery? Lunch at a…

Sammy Time

Call me the Benedict Arnold of Phoenix boosterism for saying so, but the thought of light rail does not titillate me. Nor does the prospect of ASU Prez Michael Crow spilling more of his Mormon seed money all over downtown. Bioscience Center? Sounds too much like “Biosphere” for me to…