Food & Drink

We'd be surprised if the Desert Grind had too many complaints about the tuna it crafts. Rather than one sandwich, this casual place offers four, each just different enough to satisfy individual cravings. The first is, of course, the classic, whole white albacore mixed with celery, jicama, dill and mayo with tomato, red onion, lettuce and more mayo on wheat. Then there's the Amy's Favorite, with salad, red onion, bean sprouts and honey Dijon on wheat bread. Not enough? Maybe the Mom's version will get you -- salad, dill pickle relish, tomatoes, lettuce and mayo on wheat. Yet there's still one more, the tuna melt, topped with provolone, marinated tomatoes, red onion and Dijon on toasted wheat.

If there's a Greater Tuna, we haven't found it yet.

BEST CHINESE RESTAURANT
P.F. Chang's China Bistro
several Valley locations

BEST FRENCH RESTAURANT
Sophie's French Bistro
2320 East Osborn
602-956-8897

BEST MEDITERRANEAN RESTAURANT
The Persian Room
17040 North Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale
480-614-1414

BEST INDIAN RESTAURANT
Delhi Palace
several Valley locations

BEST ITALIAN RESTAURANT
Olive Garden
several Valley locations

BEST JAPANESE RESTAURANT
RA Sushi Bar Restaurant
several Valley locations

BEST BARBECUE JOINT
Honey Bear's Bar-B-Q
5012 East Van Buren
602-273-9148
and
2824 North Central
602-279-7911

BEST BAKERY
Vie de France
14202 North Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale
480-483-5656

BEST PLACE TO POP THE QUESTION
The Melting Pot
8320 North Hayden, Scottsdale
480-607-1799
and
3626 East Ray, Ahwatukee
480-704-9206

BEST JUICE/SMOOTHIE SHOP
Jamba Juice

BEST VEGETARIAN RESTAURANT
Pita Jungle
1250 East Apache, Tempe
480-804-0234
and
1949 West Ray, Chandler
480-855-3232

BEST COFFEE HOUSE
Starbucks

BEST NEW RESTAURANT
Vie de France
14202 North Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale
480-483-5656

BEST OUTDOOR PATIO
Zipp's Sports Grill
7551 East Camelback, Scottsdale
480-970-9507

This place could be kicking butt among the best in Scottsdale, but here it is, nestled among antique stores, barbecue shops and farm tool rental yards. Chef Mark Rubin is blazing new paths in a strange new world, and for that, we salute him.

He's got great cuisine under his cape. Grilled hanger steak (French) goes Southwest with marinated onions and smoked Gouda in a tortilla. Pork takes an Asian influence with hoisin glaze, wasabi-dusted focaccia, napa cabbage slaw and sweet potato crisps. And skillet-seared sea scallops have rarely been so well-treated as they are here with goat cheese polenta, tomato confit and saffron jus lie.

Faster than Superman, Kapraszewski takes us on an edible voyage around the world. That's pretty super stuff.

"His aching feet reminded him not to buy any more of those 2 for $5 boots. As he eased the boots off to soak his tired feet, he saw the many calluses they had given him, and he said to himself, I sure am getting horny toed.'"

Hmm. We seem to remember a more racy yarn a few years back (the restaurant prompted another down the street, the Satisfied Frog), but these days Cave Creek is turning into a family town. Whatever. The Toad still delivers mouth-watering barbecued beef and baby back pork ribs, barbecued chicken, fried chicken and chicken-fried steak. Fancier plates feature things like New York strip steak, top sirloin and prime rib. And in good cowboy tradition, meals include a variety of the fixin's -- soup or salad, potato, cowboy beans, garlic bread and veggies. Yee haw!

We'd eat this stuff even if it weren't good for us. Oh, the herb polenta grilled golden brown on a bed of brown rice with steamed vegetables and a pool of mushroom gravy (gravy!). Who can resist a green corn tamale with cheese, or dairy-free red bean, topped with green chile sauce, red pepper and black olives? And sautéed artichoke hearts with olive oil, diced tomato, garlic and fresh basil over linguini is a designer dish in any upscale eatery.

There's even a kids' menu, tempting the tots with (soy or dairy) grilled cheese, a bean and cheese burrito in sprouted wheat tortilla, or nachos and salsa. There are desserts, too, like pumpkin cake with cream cheese icing, chocolate with raspberry filling, kiwi, or vegan sponge cake with butter cream icing. Here's to living forever.

So study up a little before venturing into the gorgeous Gregory's. It helps to know that the best way to order here is in small, three- to five-course tastings, following the order of the menu to build flavors from light to heavy. Practice asking with authority for this appetizer: torchon of foie gras, toasted brioche, Chenin Blanc aspic, sel gris and port wine reduction. Choose with confidence a salad of field greens, duck confit, roasted beets, sour cream dill and buckwheat blini. For a fish course with flair: lion's paw scallop, sweet vermouth, lobster broth, micro arugula and foie butter. And be a meat maestro with grilled Wagyu Kobe beef marinated in Japanese beer with shiitake mushroom potato hash.

Gregory's is complicated. But it's also gorgeous. And that, good friends, is what makes a true gourmet experience.

Most dishes are prepared in a wood-burning oven, the better to show off their natural flavors. All dishes are sumptuous, like roasted half Sonoma duck, molasses-glazed rack of lamb, classic hanger steak with shallots and red wine, truffle-infused prime sirloin, and the sinful wood-oven-roasted foie gras.

We're usually around for the daily specials, though, toothsome takes on traditional bistro fare like roasted sweetbreads, veal cheeks, sole meunière and rabbit with mustard sauce. For over-the-top luxury, we throw in a side of Oestra caviar.

Un-French as it sounds, Christopher's deserves extra credit for putting a healthful spin on many of his rich dishes. Request the KRONOS menu, and you'll meet the health institute's guidelines for optimal health (meats substituted by vegetables). Vive la France!

Malventano, though, travels to Italy virtually every year to check on what's new in one of Europe's oldest cuisines. We're glad he makes the effort, because it means we get to feast on delicacies involving black truffle oil, duck prosciutto, white truffle sauce, top-grade carpaccio and escolar, and such things as a perfect verde e bianca salad -- lacing crystal-crisp Bibb lettuce with thin asparagus stalks, chubby wands of palm heart and bitter grapefruit chunks in extra virgin olive oil.

Yes, Acqua e Sale has familiar favorites like veal lasagna, ravioli del giorno (Maryland crab and truffle oil) and capellini con pomodorino freschi (angel hair pasta in a tomato, basil, garlic and olive oil sauce). But to find better renditions? Why, we'd have to book a flight to Italy.

At La Famiglia, we are family, too, greeted by name after just a few visits. These folks, transplants from Long Island, don't mess around when it comes to mouth-watering manicotti, fettuccine Alfredo, veal scaloppine. We order at the counter, rarely pay more than 10 bucks for a full-size feast, and always, always, end up fat and happy. It's our own little pizza heaven.

We're not looking for apologies, just more food, when our lips, tongue and stomach burn after tucking into such smoky delicacies as tod mahn (spicy fish patties with cucumber sauce), larb (minced meat sautéed in lemon juice, red onion and mint), yahm pla meug (lemongrass squid), gaeng goong (red curry shrimp) or phaht Thai (rice stick noodles with chicken and shrimp).

Sure, we can adjust the heat level, but we'd rather trust the kitchen to send out the very best. At Touch of Thai, there's no doubt that there's perfection behind these peppers.

The menu of more than 400 items can be intimidating. But order the way we do, filling up lazy Susans on the big tables with lots of varieties, then spinning it among friends to sample and share. With such cheap prices, even if we find that beef belly in casserole isn't to everyone's liking, it's fun to at least taste it. Everything is incredibly fresh, even in the run-down-looking operation, with oceans of fresh seafood, crisp vegetables, friendly service and explosive flavors.

Our short list includes delicacies like deep-fried soft shell crab, frogs' legs with pepper salt, steamed whole head on shrimp in garlic and chile pepper, and new Hong Kong-style cooking like long green pea with red snapper. The fish list is remarkable, showcasing red snapper, rock cod, flounder, clams, whole live lobster, crab, mussels, oysters, squid and shrimp. And vegetarians feast, too (soy bean cake with black mushroom is exquisite).

Gourmet House is the place for lunch, packed with people like us who've discovered the amazing three dozen lunch combos alone for as little as $3.27. Familiar dishes abound, but they're a step above the rest, with expertly crafted kung pao, curry beef, sweet and sour snapper, moo goo gai pan and a dynamite house plate of shrimp, scallop, chicken, pork, snow pea, mushroom, celery, carrot and bamboo shoot (just $5.61).

Sure, service can be brusque (good luck getting beverage refills). The interior can be, uh, scruffy. And the communication levels vary (one time we ordered hot and sour fish soup, only to have our server wrinkle her nose and exclaim, "Oh, you no like!" She was really wrong). But the food, oh my Buddha.

Everything is superb, like the refreshing chopped spring rolls and grilled pork over rice vermicelli. We love the tabletop grilled dishes, and the chicken curry dunked with French bread. But our real heart belongs to pho, the staple of rice noodle beef broth. A massive bowl arrives hot and steaming, aromatic with herbs and stocked with lots of thin slippery noodles plus our choice of meat (we love the tender brisket and the raw eye of round in paper thin slices that cook in the broth).

Years of constant supervision guarantee this is the best Vietnamese. We always know what we're in pho.

Under the direction of chef Fred Yamada, the energetic bar/restaurant rocks with a fun crowd gathering to gorge on fresh fish, beef udon, tempura soba, katsu, salmon teriyaki, or shabu-shabu and sukiyaki prepared tableside. On the nights we can't decide, we go for the bento box, combining chicken teriyaki, shrimp and vegetable tempura, tuna sashimi, pickles, miso soup and rice. Sushi, of course, is always on the table in front of us -- albacore tataki, flying fish roe, uni with quail egg and endless rows of sparkling fresh tuna.

At Tabletop, the pickles, and everything else, stand out because they're so incredibly fresh. Everything sparkles with obvious pride from the kitchen. These are authentic dishes, too, not toned down for wussy American taste buds. That pan-fried shrimp in spicy chili sauce requires great gulps of Asian beer to soothe the burns. Cornish hen is not your typical poultry on a plate, but a hearty soup of whole bird swimming with medicinal herbs, spices and real, potent Korean ginseng. The waiter cuts up the carcass with scissors, and we roll pieces of flesh in salt-pepper mix or coarse rock salt. There's tabletop cooking, too, of course, working with a grill set in the table's center. We like the beef short ribs, wrapping the tender beef in crisp romaine leaves and wrapping it with thick chile paste and jalapeos.

It's impossible to leave hungry, or without change in our pockets. While Tabletop specialties run from $12.95 to $15.95, portions are for two. Now that's pretty tasty.

We're stunned by the kitchen's take on classics like mulligatawny, a from-scratch curry-kissed soup floating with chicken, lentils and fresh herbs. Lamb jalfraizee is luscious, a tender, meaty toss of tomatoes, onion and green pepper in a vinegary, ginger-imbued gravy served on a sizzling platter. And while Indian food has a reputation for causing sweaty brows and gasping breath, lamb korma is a jewel of delicate meat blended with tangy yogurt and nuts.

Yet there's something just a bit extra special about Atlas Bistro, a tiny cafe with a big-city mood. It's BYOB, always a nice touch to lower the dinner tab, but it's connected to the terrific AZ Wine Co., meaning it's almost as good as having a personal sommelier (just let the proprietors know what you're thinking of eating for dinner, and they'll help you choose the perfect wine. Plus, if you buy your grapes from AZ Wine, there's no corkage fee).

We love the sleek, elegant ambiance of white cloth capped with white butcher paper. But we love the menu even more, celebrating seasonal selections in simple but sophisticated dishes. The bruschetta are brilliant, six dainty crostini individually capped with things like chopped tomato and olive oil, white beans with hummus, and briny mushrooms over goat cheese and mascarpone. A quesadilla is special, a sun-dried tomato tortilla encasing white cheese and nubs of smoked salmon atop a peanuty-charactered bay scallop and crayfish sauce studded with corn and pearl onions. And it's hard to improve on an enormous Niman Ranch pork chop, exquisitely thick and moist, sided with an earthy wet heap of roasted corn, plump barley and black beans. What a beauty of a bistro.

We think it's the wine list we love the most, selected from a temperature-and-humidity-controlled cellar holding more than 2,500 bottles. Surely, though, it's the food, a compelling blend of seasonal American accented with touches of Asia, Europe and the Southwest. Our favorite dish is lavender-and-herb-crusted ahi tuna seared rare with red curry sauce, risotto cake and sautéed greens. No, wait, we really adore the tenderloin au poivre, with sautéed potatoes and shiitakes in an herb butter sauce.

Okay, so it's simple. We love absolutely everything about this place. Nothing too tricky about that.

Fortunately, the menu is as impressive as the setting -- exquisite seafood, meat, poultry and produce radiantly seasoned with provincial herbs, garlic and other flavors indigenous to the European region. We've been wowed by such temptations as cheese-filled pansotti with truffle oil scented sbira; buttered scalded chanterelles and truffles with sweet beet emulsion; and roasted veal loin pistou with crispy sweetbreads, cannellini beans and white almond pistou.

But what's most Mediterranean? Perhaps paella, and here it's pure luxury, stocked with lots of lobster, chicken, pork, frogs' legs, chistora, mussels, escargot, cockles and shrimp.

Vive la Riviera.

No matter what we order, we know it'll arrive fresh, homemade, hearty and impossibly cheap. Soups are particularly mesmerizing, the lentil thickened with potatoes; the white bean and tomato broth robust; the gazpacho brilliant and singing with tomato. We like to sample from each section -- a salad (the Greek eggplant is divine, grilled, chopped and blended with fried onion, garlic, parsley, olive oil and lemon juice to be spread on pita), any of the soups, and an entree (try the ground beef kebab, rich with Middle Eastern seasonings, skewered and grilled to a juicy finish).

When we're craving topnotch Middle Eastern food, we know exactly what to do. We rely on our Sabuddy system.

Here's our dream feast of the deep: appetizers of sugar cane shrimp and a walnut shrimp salad. A soup of crab meat and winter melon. Entrees of lobster with black bean sauce (spicy, with bell pepper, bamboo, carrot, onion, water chestnuts, mushrooms and baby corn), plus yu shang rock cod (pan fried in spicy vinaigrette with bell pepper, onion, scallion, bamboo and mushroom). And to round it out, we get salted fish and chicken fried rice or soft lo mein with shrimp and scallops. It's simply the best fish to be found anywhere in town, sea?

We personally have consumed more than our fair share of El Chorro's signature items, giant sticky buns that are served free with every meal. And while we'll admit that when we were in high school, we scoffed over the "old people's" menu -- loaded with classics like chipped beef on English muffin, shrimp Louie salad, chicken liver with bacon, and shad roe on toast -- now we appreciate the nostalgia.

We really appreciate the refinement, too, with tableside presentation of châteaubriand with béarnaise sauce, and rack of lamb with minted jelly. Quality has survived the ages with grace -- USDA prime aged filet mignon, New York steak, lobster tail and lamb chops are prepared in 1600F mesquite broiler to lock in flavor and juices.

Some things just never go out of style. Thank goodness.

The area is no stranger to eclectic art houses, coffee shops, performance theaters, music venues, funky little restaurants and hangout spots. The difference is, Paisley Violin is the first to package them all together, and to actually be successful doing it. It's refreshing to stop in the little spot and see it rocking as a center for poetry slams, live music, ambient art, open-mike slots, after-hours grooving, DJ spinning and even chess tournaments.

There's a full menu offered with refreshingly well-executed appetizers, salads and sandwiches. Just as pleasing, the beer and wine policy is BYOB. And this is bargain culture: Cravings for art and appetite can be satisfied for $7.50 or less. Choose from light bites like imported olives, a plate of assorted cubed cheeses, fruit and baguette, hummus with grape leaves, panini or lox and capers with jalapeo cream cheese and greens on a sourdough baguette.

Welcome to the modern world, Phoenix. We're so glad to see you.

Today, nobody keeps the fad as fresh as Eddie Matney's, with a menu that's all over the map with its touches of the Mediterranean, Asia, Mexico and down-home American classics.

How to define horseradish mashed potato-stuffed shrimp with cactus pear and five-peppercorn ranch sauce? Toasted seafood ravioli with apricot-Voodoo dip? A seafood pot pie with mussels, clams, shrimp, scallops and crab legs in savory tomato/fennel broth over penne pasta? Sometimes it sounds weird, but our advice is to live a little and give it a try. We're never disappointed, often amazed. Eddie's is keeping the fire in the fusion.

This is desert with daring, flaunting appetizers like blackened shrimp with white bean hummus, mango-olive salsa and charbroiled tomatillo sauce, or eggplant tacos with lamb, arugula, kasseri cheese, cucumber-radish relish and roasted tomato-garlic sauce. Entrees are edgy, like charbroiled prime tenderloin of beef with potato-leek gratin plus butternut squash, spinach, smoked bacon and provolone-cheese-filled green chile in sun-dried cherry barbecue sauce. And we challenge any out-of-towners to find anything comparable in their burg to Medizona's to-die-for dessert of prickly pear tiramisu in Turkish coffee-pistachio sauce.

When we want to savor the Southwest, we find all the best of Arizona in our very own Medizona.

Actually, it's more like a hole-in-the-rock, tucked into the Sonoran Desert foothills that make up the fabulous Boulders resort, surrounded by the 12-million-year-old granite boulder formations that dot the landscape. The restaurant's decor is the source of its name, with the main room's ceiling crafted from ocotillo branches (called "latilla," or "little sticks" in Spanish). Your client will be so breathless from the ambiance there'll be no air left to complain about your cost proposal.

And soon, your client's mouth will be too full of sumptuous American-Southwestern cuisine to quibble about anything. Who could argue over foie gras with creamy polenta, beet slices, fresh berries, and port reduction; grilled vegetable muffaleta strudel; seared Chilean sea bass with shrimp pot stickers and crisp chicken in a spicy crayfish broth; an Italian cowboy veal chop with Sicilian green olives, peppercorns, artichoke hearts and pancetta-mashed potatoes; or hazelnut praline ice cream layer cake?

If there's any doubt, after dinner, take your client to the desert-landscaped patio, boasting a fireplace and a huge boulder waterfall. Just remember, once the account is firmly landed, to bill the evening back on your expense account.

When our food is ready, we collect our cute, open-top picnic basket and the feast begins. Dreamy potato leek soup. A fine Greek salad, albacore tuna, and an old-fashioned turkey sandwich on orange bread with a jam-like spread of tangy cranberry relish and chipotle. A curry turkey sandwich makes us happy to be alive, stuffed with currants, red cabbage, celery and shredded carrot in sweet mayonnaise. It's not a picnic without dessert, and the Farm feeds us in fine style. We love dense and chewy chocolate-chip cherry walnut cookie and the berry cinnamon scone. A visit to the Farm Kitchen just seems to melt the stress away.

It's quiet, secretly special food, too. Svjeza kupus salata is cabbage salad sprinkled with black pepper, misted with oil, spritzed with lemon juice and capped with ripe tomato. Burek is a football-size phyllo dumpling packed with chunks of chewy beef under a dollop of bright orange paprika purée. And the cafe's signature cevapi is captivating, a thrilling sandwich of sturdy, grilled ground beef sausage links and white onion between lepina, a pitalike bread. It's a feast -- for the stomach if not for the eyes.

We choose to sit in the traditional Ethiopian section of the restaurant, on intricately carved, swaybacked wooden stools, about half a foot high, clustered around a mesab, a handmade wicker hourglass-shaped table with a domed cover (think of a mini woven Taj Mahal). Eating Ethiopian food is part of the experience. When the mesab cover is removed, the server presents a hubcap-size tray blanketed with injera, an enormous quilt of unleavened bread that is the heart and soul, plus utensils, of Ethiopia. The steamed bread is more like a pancake, fluffy and pocketed with bubbles, tangy with sourdough character. The bread serves as a tablecloth of sorts, adorned with small mounds of food, and we tear off pieces of bread to scoop stews or wrap meats burrito-style.

As we feast here, it's easy to pretend everything in the world is okay. It's a simple case of de-nile.

Had we ever noticed before that when we're sitting down, everything personal on anyone walking by is at optimum level? We have now. Yet soon enough, we're so distracted by the high-quality food we could be surrounded by monkeys. Sliced steak and bleu cheese salad. A basket of fine chicken finger nuggets with good, crisp French fries, spicy coleslaw and a ramekin of ranch dressing. Prime rib as a periodic special. And in the morning, three-egg omelets or French toast, partnered with bacon or sausage.

Shangri La welcomes day guests -- the $29 charge is applied to an annual membership if, after the initial three get-to-know-you visits, one decides to become part of the clan. We recommend it. Just be careful of spilling coffee in your lap.

There are several reasons we like to test our potential partners with a meal at L'Academie, an important one being the rock-bottom prices. This is a learning restaurant for students of the Scottsdale Culinary Institute, so the trade for our being guinea pigs is a low bill. Appetizers for $2.95. Entrees for $8.95. Desserts for $2.95. At these prices, even if our date is a washout, it won't leave us washing dishes in the kitchen.

We also like to use L'Academie to see how our date deals with potential mishap. Students haven't honed their server skills quite yet, but if our date has a meltdown over minor blips, we know we haven't met our true love.

It helps that the setting is high-class bistro, and the food is really tasty (spinach salad, prime rib, leg of lamb, bread pudding). So, if by chance our date turns out to have potential, we still look good in their eyes.

Which is why, if kids must be part of the equation, we appreciate Pei Wei. It's already deafeningly loud, so a few more decibels won't matter. It's ultra-casual, so chucking food isn't too much of an embarrassment. And it's cheap, $5.50 to $9 for a full adult meal, plus just $3.25 for the little ankle-biters. While adults can fill up on P.F. Chang's-style coconut curry shrimp, spicy chicken chow fun, chili-hoisin beef or Mongolian scallops, the rug rats can stuff themselves on a Kid's Wei meal.

Pei Wei doesn't bother with any vegetables (just more artillery, since kids won't eat the stuff). The basics include teriyaki, honey or lo mein chicken on top of egg noodles. Simple. No nonsense. Enough carbs to ensure the kiddies will pass out on the car ride home.

If we had it our wei, kids wouldn't be allowed in restaurants until they could behave politely when released from their cages. In the meantime, we'll feed them at Pei Wei.

The new Hap's location is open 24 hours, Monday through Saturday. Oh joy! Full breakfasts (pork ribs or hot links in picante sauce with egg). Drop-dead ribs, chicken, pulled pork and beef brisket, all served in Hap's trademark brown paper sack. One bite and you're in Hap's heaven.

Their lesson plans span the globe. There might be an evening in Vienna, with Wiener schnitzel, spaetzle with pepper and crisp shallots, braised cabbage with bacon, and apricot crepes. It might be a menu of 10-minute meals featuring (surprise) name-brand pressure cookers. It might be American, Southwestern, Mexican or vegetarian. There's a lot of bread baking, with (who'd have guessed) Bosch bread-making machines. But it's free! Consider it a Tupperware party with a 'tude.

Most customers come in for the more traditional meats -- prime Iowa corn-fed beef and pork, sushi-grade fish, live lobster, handcrafted sausage and Young's farm poultry. Beef is made better by at least two weeks of aging, and extras are extra special (homemade twice-baked potatoes, artisan breads, produce).

We're envisioning a theme dinner party -- the Valley's own version of the Matthew Broderick/Marlon Brando movie The Freshman.

Kudos to La Crème. Hungry? Grab a great, prepared-to-order sandwich made with Block & Barrel meat -- perhaps turkey breast, pepperjack cheese, lettuce and tomato on rye, or roast beef, pastrami and Swiss on sourdough -- for only $3 to $5. Thirsty? Alongside the Budweiser, there's Blue Moon beer, a Belgian wheat white ale; Napoleon Courvoisier cognac; and Patron Tequila Aejo. Other treats include cigars, Nanci's frozen yogurt, fresh fritters, sticky buns and cinnamon rolls, and those stop-and-go staples, Corn Pops and Lucky Charms cereal. And no Circle K we've found has spicy eggplant salad.

La Crème is the top of the crop for us.

Nobody has the seductive selection that Akbar's does, imported loose teas from all over the world, complete with Chatsford tea pots, tea accessories, gift baskets, tins and bags. Every variety we could want is available: black teas of China or India, green teas, oolong teas, blended teas, flavored teas, herbal teas. Essentially, anything leafy and lovely that can fit in a cup can be found here.

The Wine Co. offers free tastings several nights a week, with us relaxed at the cozy bar or kicking back on one of the front-porch-style sofas and chairs clustered in a cradle of boxes. Pretty much any varietal we crave is in stock, but on a night that AZ Wine is out of our preferred Newton Claret, the proprietor suggests Catena, a 2000 Malbec from LunLunta Vineyards of Argentina. It's stunning, with intense aromas of ripe blackberry interlaced with vanilla and tobacco, and just what we wanted. For wines, that's as good AZ it gets.

There's no sugar used in these starchy marvels, and none needed. Instead, Willo relies on fresh fruits and nuts for its sweeter treats, like sun-dried cranberries in the cranberry-hazelnut roll. All the standard favorites are in attendance, too, but these are better breads than even the finest home kitchen could hope to achieve. The list runs the gamut from familiar to fancy: pumpernickel, sesame, earthy rye cut with chunks of real red onion, strong charactered Kalamata olive loaf, the signature Willo loaf (think French baguette), round ciabatta roll, olive focaccia, sunflower-seed, rosemary-focaccia and much more.

Willo is, hands down, our breadwinner.

The only thing small about this place is the shop. It's filled floor to rafters with everything Italian, imported, homemade, fantastically fresh and hardly shy in flavor. Olive oils. Dressings. Pastas. Wines. Fresh breads, cheeses, meats, sweets and savories. Everything our larder could long for.

Step up to the deli case and prepare to be stunned by salads. What a lovely display it is, long and fat with seafood blend (crab, calamari and shrimp in Italian marinade), tortellini primavera, zesty tomato and garlic (more correct would be garlic, tomato, garlic, garlic, garlic salad), marinated artichokes and mushrooms, antipasto, chicken, tuna and loads more. It's plump with prepared dishes, an ever-changing selection like ricotta-stuffed shells, lasagna (cheese, meat and cheese or spinach and cheese), stuffed peppers and cabbage rolls, pizza, homemade Italian sausage with peppers and onions, and pasta trays to take home and reheat. Desserts? Of course. Try handcrafted cheesecake, cannoli or casata cake, moist with layers of cannoli and seasonal fresh strawberries.

Guido's is simply deli-cious.

For our fix, we go to Middle Eastern Bakery & Deli, a legend that's brought the Mediterranean to Phoenix for more than 20 years. The store may be tiny, but that's the only thing restrained about this wonderful place. Spices alone are amazing, spanning shelf after shelf of exotic temptations. The original blends are so special they're actually marketed under chef Mary Karadsheh's name.

There's so much to this eight-table operation, with good-smelling and even better-tasting dishes like spinach pie, baklava, tandoori chicken salad with pine nuts and currants, hummus and avgolemono, a luscious creamy egg-lemon-chicken soup. Now that, anyone can relate to.

Really, if there's something we want, and we can't find it at Lee Lee, we can't possibly actually need it. There are acres of fresh produce, including vast varieties of just cabbages. There are oodles of noodles, like fresh udon, ramen and lo mein. Staples startle with their selection, in a rainbow of hot sauces, soy sauces, chile pastes, dozens of rice varieties, canned goods with exotic names, liquor, frozen foods, jewelry, tapioca, cakes and . . . whew.

If it's fresh we're after, Lee Lee delivers an astounding assortment of exotic and familiar meats, poultry and seafood, including a massive area full of tanks to support live crab, mussels, clams, tilapia, carp and so much more.

The only thing we haven't found at Lee Lee is fresh goat meat. But that's okay. We know exactly where we can get that.

Is it vintage? Is it modern? We can't tell, but we get a kick out of LUX's who-cares approach to stark white walls, mismatched furniture, concrete charisma and bare, gallery-style lighting. The only eye candy is rotating works from local artists, primarily photographers who can preview their displays on one of the light tables scattered around the small space.

The owners know their coffee, returning to Phoenix after operating a caffeine store in Seattle. The stuff is strong and flavorful, including old-fashioned drip brew. The patrons here are part of the scene, too, with wild hair, untamed expressions and deep, quiet countenances. That they're nibbling on snickerdoodle cookies is fun; just as tasty are the fruit Danish, muffins and cinnamon rolls.

Some attitude with your coffee? That's priceless.

Now we've got La Grande Orange, a charming oasis that's open every day, rain or shine (owned by Craig DeMarco, also owner of Postino Winecafé next door). It's an actual store, see, a little commune of the Valley's top food sources, like Tammie Coe Cakes (a former chef of Michael's at the Citadel), Victory Farms produce, wood-fired pizza from ex-Bianco guy Carl Bonacci, artisan breads, designer wines and beers (from neighboring Nonni's Kitchen), and Java Garden, an adjacent coffee stand in a tiny tranquil garden setting.

We come in through the kitchen in back, stopping to watch as staff crafts its pastries, carves its meats, and hustles so we can fill our baskets with fresh asparagus, Genovese basil plucked from tin buckets, sour cream blueberry muffins, a bottle of imported pesto, ciabatta, and a truffle of banana pudding, chocolate mousse and espresso angel food cake. We're low on Cheer detergent and Bounty paper towels, so we grab those, too.

While we've been shopping, the kitchen has been preparing our breakfast order: smoked salmon on an English muffin slicked with cream cheese, capers and onion, with fresh blackberries, raspberries, peach and lemon on the side. We eat it off plastic plates at one of the handful of tables in the front of the store. And by the time we leave, we're feeling grateful to La Grande Orange for not being just another farmers' market.

BEST LATE-NIGHT MEAL
Denny's
several Valley locations

BEST HANGOVER BREAKFAST
Denny's
several Valley locations

BEST GOURMET PIZZA
California Pizza Kitchen
several Valley locations

BEST DESSERTS
Cheesecake Factory
several Valley locations

BEST HERO SANDWICH
Subway
several Valley locations

All the expected items are available, but they're unexpectedly good. A biscuit combo mounds a duo of fat dough rounds with two eggs, cubed grilled potatoes and ladles of creamy, sausage-studded gravy. French toast is just fabulous, splayed six slices across and fashioned from thick challah dipped in lots of egg and sprinkled with powdered sugar. Dress it up with cinnamon, fresh strawberries or gingered peach compote. Specialty pancakes are indeed special, crowned with fresh blueberries, blended with chopped mixed nuts, or crafted from natural whole grains. A wonderful oven-baked apple pancake comes glistening with fresh sliced apples and sugar-cinnamon glaze. Fancier and fantastic: five kinds of Belgian waffles, or a plate of three eggs scrambled with silky lox and chopped onion, partnered with three pancakes, buttery home fries or toast. And the pigs in a blanket are terrific. Plus, breakfast is served all day. That's well worth waking up for.

Breakfast is big. The office crowds flood in for starters like two poached eggs perched atop fresh-baked cornbread biscuits so rich, cheesy and kernel-clustered that they deserve their own billing. A "fiesta" hollandaise sauce is thin but rich, studded with tomatoes, and we make our own Benedict by adding slabs of Belgian bacon, four nicely salty pieces served with seasoned cherry tomatoes. Another wonderful reason for braving the dizzying daylight is the pancakes, three large orbs infused with lots of earthy nutmeg. We get ours topped with fresh, tart raspberries, alternating bites with strong hot coffee. Ted's at the head of the breakfast class.

But we're not ready to give up the grapes. So now, we just factor in a good, greasy breakfast to follow a night marinating ourselves in alcohol. The fat somehow absorbs the pain and calms the stomach. Or perhaps it just bloats us enough that we can crawl back into bed and conk out until our bodies have banished the toxins. Either way, we find ample excuse to work in a meal at New York Bagels 'n' Bialys.

The service here is as crabby as we feel. It's a little dark and dingy, so we don't even have to shower first. And the menu -- plus portions -- is massive. Cheap doesn't hurt, either (what's with the $10 cocktails at nightclubs these days?). For less than $7, we can fill up and out with three eggs any style, plus a choice of huge amounts of bacon, sausage, ham, pastrami, corned beef or salami. The plate includes (homemade) bagel or bialy, home fries and juicy tomatoes or cottage cheese.

Now if we could just get our breakfast companion to stop chewing so loudly.

So imagine our glee at the opening of Walker's, a shrine to handmade soft pretzels. Don't be confused; Walker's is an entire cafe, with a full, impressive menu of soups, salads, sandwiches, pizza, etc. But its specialty, and rightly so, is the perfect pretzel. They're steamy hot, cloaked with coarse salt and pulled in pliant, chewy mouthfuls. We can get them plain or salted. We can get a side of cheese dip (Velveeta, it has to be). And we can get a superb pretzel dog -- the frank juicy with beef liquor, wrapped in a golden bundle of dough.

Walker's even has a dessert pretzel, lavishly sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. What a delicious deal.

Sweet, tart blackberry cobbler with buttery fluted crust. Fresh baked biscuits from scratch. Light-as-air strawberry shortcake. Creamy cheesecake. Oh, my. We're getting ahead of ourselves in our lust for dessert. First, we should start with dinner, tucking in to center cut pork chops, meat loaf swimming in gravy, or a Reuben. These are full meals, partnered with soup, salad or coleslaw, vegetables, biscuits and potatoes.

We're feeling awfully warm and cuddly.

Which is why, several times a week, you'll find us taking our noon repast at Focaccia Fiorentina. The cute Italian cafe keeps us coming back for its remarkably fresh sandwiches, salads, pastas and desserts (imported meats, cheese and vegetables are delivered fresh each morning; tiramisu and cheesecake are homemade). Nothing costs more than $7.50, with a half-dozen gorgeous pasta plates brimming with gutsy flavor for just $6.25.

This is tasty Tuscan fare, like the valtellina, a hearty hot sandwich of bresaola (air-dried beef), fresh basil, mozzarella, lettuce, lemon and extra-virgin olive oil on focaccia. We adore the classic rigatoni al ragu, loaded with lean ground beef, zesty marinara, fresh parsley, a touch of cream and Parmesan. The caesar is the real thing, too.

We may be just office peons, but we're very well-fed office peons.

Food is as delicious as the decor, with carefully selected staples like wild Copper River king salmon from Alaska; handmade, small-batch Maytag blue cheese from Iowa; fresh tropical Pacific game fish from Honolulu; and flavorful, juicy beef from Omaha's best stockyards. It's difficult to think about returning to work after such a feast as rock salt roasted prime rib with seasonal vegetables, red jacket mashed potatoes, natural jus and fresh Oregon horseradish. So sometimes we go a little lighter, with seared Northwest Dungeness crab cake atop sweet-and-sour and beurre blanc sauces, Asian slaw, sushi jasmine rice and pickled red ginger. We always hope our lunch companion, though, orders the center-cut top sirloin steak with martini butter and juniper seasoning so we can pick bites off his plate.

Desserts bring the final decadent blow: superb renditions of crème brûlée, Key lime pie, chocolate cake and apple tart. Meeting adjourned.

Yet then, once we arrive, the laughter fades. They call their cuisine "Western ranch cooking," but unless tequila is considered a major food group, we're not leaving here walking straight. Consider the Tombstone Businessman's Special, promising heartburn on a plate, bringing a combo of spicy beef jerky, a jalapeo-pickled egg, a seven-ounce beer and a shot of tequila. Sandwiches from the grill come with a choice of sides: steak fries, potato salad, or a shot of tequila. For dessert there's, imagine this, a shot of tequila Sauza Hornitos served with an orange wedge and cinnamon.

All this before noon. If this keeps up, we won't make it to happy hour.

We've experimented with our own fair share of sandwich recipes (hint: chocolate frosting on toast doesn't work). Yet leave it to the master at Miracle Mile to send out real winners. Specialties include the Straw (hot pastrami, melted Swiss, hot sauerkraut), the New Yorker (hot pastrami, coleslaw, Miracle Mile dressing) and the Triple Decker (two layers of hot pastrami on rye, imported Swiss, lettuce and Miracle Mile dressing).

Sandwiches this good truly are a miracle.

As for meals, Postino isn't about dinner; it's about superior snacking. What an incredible offering of noshes, too. An olive bowl, overflowing with sharp fruit. Pesto and bread. Prosciutto with sweet-tart figs. Specialty cheeses, flanked with nuts, fruit and toast. And the best of them all, an antipasto platter laden with assorted meats, cheeses, breads, olives and fruits. But then there's the bruschetta, a massive serving of four flatbreads spread on a wooden cutting board. Toppings are indulgent: roasted artichoke, mozzarella with tomato and basil, crushed tomato basil, white Tuscan bean, goat cheese, ricotta with pistachios, roasted peppers and goat cheese, salami pesto, or prosciutto with figs and mascarpone. Just promise us that if we're not there, you'll have some for us.

Then we grew up. One day, we wandered into Roaring Fork, chef Robert McGrath's cowboy cafe, and life was never the same. Because we found mac-n-cheese on his menu, but mac-n-cheese unlike any mac-n-cheese we'd ever had before. Sheer heaven.

McGrath puts an American West spin on his noodles, with a wow base of puréed poblano chile. More than macaroni, he sautés diced red bell pepper, red onion, minced garlic and corn kernels in corn oil until just tender. Then he stirs in the pasta and green chile, plus lots of grated pepper Jack cheese and heavy cream. The finishing touch -- generous sprinkles of kosher salt and cracked black pepper.

Sorry, Mom, we love you, but Velveeta just can't cut it anymore.

For that state staple, we nominate Spyros Scocos' recipe. As owner of Iguana Lounge, he has taken a classic and infused it with funky Cuban charm. This soup arrives in a large parfait glass, tumbled in bright broth so sparkly we suspect carbonation. It bobs with sharp fresh tomato, red pepper, avocado, celery, scallion and onion. Even in its oversize portion, it disappears all too quickly.

The dogs in question are all-beef Viennas imported from Chicago. Our favorite style is the traditional, tucked in a bun and dressed with mustard, relish, onions, pickle, tomatoes and sauerkraut. Just one is a full meal at just $3.15, partnered (for free) with hot, mealy French fries or soupy coleslaw. But sometimes we want to step out a little, and for that, we turn to the Cheddar dog, the chili dog or the ultimate, the chili/cheese dog. The Chicago Co. doesn't disappoint with fans of Polish dogs, fire dogs or bagel dogs, either. Once, when we were feeling really macho, we tried to take on the massive "Dave Jantz Double Dog." It bit us back.

How much do we love these dogs? We still smile when we think of the Valentine's Day note posted once on the daily special board. It read, "Vienna Hot Dog w/fries 2.25. Nothing says I love you' like a steamin' weenie." We couldn't have said it better ourselves.

Here, the beef is doused with Burgundy as it cooks on a special, extra-thick grill (to keep the wine from evaporating too fast). It's drenched not just once, but four times, then topped with cheese if we like, and drenched two more times. Big Mac, ha. Our basic burger is a whopping one-third pound, with no special sauce needed -- this big, beefy taste doesn't hide. Toppings include fresh, crisp lettuce, tomato, onion and pickle. If we want more, we can add beef chili with beans and more onion. When we're super hungry, we pig out with the super wineburger, a full two-third-pounder with cheese.

Sorry, Ronald, but our favorite burger chef goes by the name of Harvey.

Interestingly enough, we had originally fallen in love with the Windy City's signature sandwich right here in Phoenix, when one of our friends, a Chicago transplant, introduced us to Luke's.

So simple a recipe, but so often other places cut corners and it comes out all wrong. At Luke's, the meat is premium, thinly sliced and so tender it's almost lace. The jus is critical -- it's got to be all natural, thick, peppery and so generously applied that the French roll supporting it gets soggy down to its deepest ends. It's got to be a mess, with beef falling off the edges of the bread, reined in only by an optional cloak of melted provolone.

Luke, the Chicago beef force is definitely with you.

Sometimes we get them with rotisserie prime rib or chicken. But often enough, we simply sit at the bar, sipping a glass of Penfolds Shiraz/Cabernet, slowly munching the hot, mealy slabs like cocktail nuts. After a few salty handfuls, we're almost sloppy in our happiness. It's Roti-Joe's, for when we just want to fry, fry away from this hectic world.

The secret's in the meat, imported beef thinly sliced/chopped, tossed on the grill and heaped in insanely high portions on a soft Italian roll (wheat is available, but c'mon, white's the only way to go). There are 11 steaks to tempt us, ranging from just meat, to pizza, to our choice, the model loaded with juicy grilled mushrooms, peppers, onions and lots of gooey cheese. Sometimes we get hot or sweet peppers (free add-ons), but lately, since a friend turned us on to the treat, we've been asking for a swab of mayo. It's rich and wicked. Toss in a stack of crispy hot crinkle fries and we're ready for a blissful nap.

The steaks are available in chicken, too, and it's lovely, tender breast to be sure. But is chicken really steak? Who cares?

Then there's Maxie's World Grill, a little heaven on Earth owned and staffed by people who don't seem to realize they're operating a fast-food joint. Servers and line cooks actually smile at the customers. Prices are low, service is speedy, but there's not a drop of grease to be found. There's even a drive-through.

The menu has it all: barbecue, burritos, deli sandwiches, panini, pitas and salads. Owner Jeff Lee isn't going for ordinary, however. Service is quick, but dishes are cooked strictly to order on a wood-burning charbroiler. All salsas, dressings, sauces and soups are made from scratch. Fries are hand-cut from Idaho potatoes. Ingredients boast top names, with meats from Boar's Head, bratwurst from top Valley sausage shop Schreiner's, gelato from Phoenix's renowned Berto's, and tortillas crafted by Phoenix's famous Carolina's. Burgers are hand-formed Angus beef, and flank steak is USDA choice.

Homemade empanadas are crafted with chicken or spicy beef. Clam chowder swims with actual clams. Cookies and brownies are homemade; lemonade is fresh-squeezed. There's even a fresh salsa bar, with a rainbow array of mild, hot and fiery styles.

In the fast-food game, Maxie's is a brave new world indeed.

It's impossibly good, this thin-crust pizza baked in a wood-burning oven. Pies are 12 inches and serve two, though we've been known to finish more than a few all by our lonesome. Simple is stunning with the traditional basil and garlic, a white pizza with olive oil and fresh mozzarella cheese. The Capricciosa is a complicated thrill, uniting tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella, the finest lean ham, Toscano salami, wood-roasted mushrooms, slices of fresh tomatoes sprinkled with Parmesan cheese, black olives, artichoke hearts, red bell peppers and pepperoncini. And nothing compares to the spinach pie, zingy rich with tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella, wood-roasted spinach and mushrooms, zucchini, artichoke hearts and garlic.

Leave it to Nonni's to make the best of both worlds. This is a grandma's cooking, yet only if your grandma were an insanely talented chef versed in charming, Italian-edged American cuisine. Everything here is superb, the carpaccio, the Sicilian sausage, the seasonal vegetable antipasto. It takes real talent to make a chicken sing, though, and for this, we have to look past everything else fabulous in this kitchen.

Fans of Rancho Pinot (same owners as Nonni's) will recognize the signature Sunday chicken, a tender bird braised in a savory broth of white wine, mushrooms, herbs and onion with thick, toasted polenta triangles alongside.

Our star is the crispy flattened hen. This is the chef's version of a traditional Italian dish that grills chicken under a brick -- here the kitchen sears its poultry in a cast-iron skillet with another skillet weighing it down. The result is a beautiful bird with a crisp crust. It lounges on snowy banks of mashed potatoes kissed with olive oil, plus Christmas-green fresh spinach cooked wet and juicy with just enough garlic to give it guts. It's a perfect pullet.

At Harris', they're so proud of their meat that they display it in aging coolers off the restaurant's entry. It's Certified Angus Beef exclusively, and dry-aged on the premises for 21 days. While virtually no fat arrives on the finished product, we suspect some is there during the cooking process -- a creamy ribbon of fat is critical to the beef, soaking its velvety richness into the meat as it slowly roasts.

Our sumptuous slab is pricey, $28 to $32 depending on the cut, but well worth the investment for its quality. That it includes sides of perfect potato and premium vegetable like crisp snap peas (freebies unheard of in top steak houses these days) makes it all the more delicious. At the end of dinner, we stuff our cheeks with complimentary peanut brittle from a tray in the lobby.

When it comes to prime numbers, the only one we need is Harris' on our speed dial -- reservations are strongly recommended.

There's simply no better substantial lunch than the chicken-fried steak, cubed beef double dipped and served with fluffy mashed potatoes, oceans of rich gravy, corn and a biscuit for just $5.50. The only thing that beats it is the supper, where for just $9.95 we get a double portion of steak, paired with a garden salad (love those pimientos), potatoes, even more gravy and a biscuit.

The meat is cut on site from USDA choice aged beef. The potatoes are homemade, but then so are the biscuits, the gravy, the salad dressing, the batter, well, everything.

Hey, if our childhood home had cooking like this, we never would have left it.

All the classics show up in style: St. Louis-style pork ribs, smoked chicken, pulled pork, smoked brisket, or Q-turkey. A sampler brings a bit of everything, served with two ribs and choice of two side dishes plus bread. And we love the specials -- grilled ancho barbecue meat loaf, the Smokin' Bleu (pulled pork topped with bleu cheese coleslaw), or the Dynamite (hot peppers, chiles, onions and jalapeos, sautéed with Red Diamond marinated brisket on a jalapeo roll with melted pepperjack). The only complaint we have for this Southwestern-style 'cue company is that it's open only for lunch and only on weekdays. But still, this 'cue is a coup.

Who needs anything else, when we can get our fill on brilliant veggie creations like roasted beets tossed with spicy greens, toasted almonds and sheep's milk feta, or a savory tart of green garlic, leeks and spring onion with ricotta and manchego? And while other places may make do with steamed broccoli, carrots and potatoes, Kaufman conquers new ground with sides like Tuscan kale, rapini, artichoke-bacon-potato hash, flageolet beans with caramelized garlic, squash blossoms, and garlic spinach that's so good we want to curl up in bed with it.

When we're at Rancho Pinot, you can't make us not eat our veggies.

But we're not concerned with what type of potatoes the kitchen uses at Peruanitos, an outrageously delicious Peruvian restaurant where absolutely everything on the long menu sparkles. Picking potatoes is the chef's job. Still, we are smitten with the spuds that arrive at our table, one glorious creation after another.

We could live on this stuff -- papas a la huancaina (in creamy, spicy queso fresco with palillo herb), papa rellena (spicy beef wrapped in a mashed potato shell with red onion salsa), causa rellena de atun (layers of mashed potato stuffed with tuna and Peruvian spices), sopa de leche (potato soup), papa a la diabla (potatoes with a creamy salsa of onion, queso fresco and boiled egg), and carapulcra (mashed and sun-dried potatoes with pork, peanuts and spices).

Peruanitos changes its potato dish selections periodically, but we've found that a woeful stare at our server works wonders with special requests. Any way you slice it, these tubers are tops.

Now we're living the dream at Sushi 101, where there's an all-we-can-eat special for $19.95, no chasing required. There are some restrictions: Leftovers are charged at full price, including rice. This means that diners who bite off more than they can swallow face penalties on their bills. If we can't finish our shrimp tempura roll, or try to sneak in more value by not eating the rice on our nigiri sushi, we'll be charged the full per-piece sushi price on top of that $19.95.

We have no problem with that. We know, down to the grain of rice, exactly how much sushi our stomach holds (years of practice). And Sushi 101 servers warn us up front that this is not a buffet. We can order as much as we want, in as frequent intervals as we want, but we'd really better mean it.

The thing about El Encanto is that it's centered on a beautiful lake, bobbing with graceful ducks and geese. While we're getting fed truly delicious Sonoran food (viva la margarita!), the waterfowl are hoping we'll spring a quarter into one of the grain-filled gumball machines. Turn the knob, fill a little paper cup with delicious goose chow, and the birds come flapping over.

Now here's our idea: Put the quarter in the machine. Fill the cup with grain. Then, take that expensive rock and stick it down into the bird seed. Hand the cup to your sweetie. Just be sure she doesn't toss the whole kit and caboodle in the pond. Isn't that romantic?

While other brunches use the flash factor of acres of food to draw oohs and aahs, T. Cook's offers a refined finish to the weekend, offering a prix fixe menu of à la carte Mediterranean-inspired classics. While we're not leaving as gluttons, what we do eat is guaranteed to be the very best in its league.

If we're feeling dainty, we can go for the $19 cold buffet, an all-we-can-eat extravaganza of fresh seafood, smoked salmon, gourmet salads, grilled vegetables, fruits, cheeses, breads, pastries and more. If we want to supplement -- or substitute -- our feast, we can select from T. Cook's regular breakfast and lunch. This means classy dishes like spinach and oven-dried tomato quiche; white truffle and fontina cheese omelet with chicken leek sausage; asparagus and wild mushroom soup; lobster and avocado with butter lettuce, shaved fennel and garlic jus; or seared pork tenderloin with sweet potato pancake, Savoy cabbage and apples.

All this in a brilliant, Southwestern hacienda setting lush with gardens, and T. Cook's is truly something for a special Sunday.

"NV Gruet blanc de noirs, New Mexico, half bottle. The expatriate Gruet family, tired of the ridiculous French tax laws, moved to the one area of the planet they felt most mirrored the soil and climate of Champagne . . . who would have guessed it was Truth or Consequences, New Mexico? (although rumors of it being tied to an alien experiment at Area 51 are surely false, or at least stretched a bit)."

"NV Mountain Dome brut, Washington. Flavor wise, this is crisp, clean, balanced and refreshing, but the reason we bought it was the little elves on the label."

"'98 Burge Family semillon, Olive Hill, Australia. This starts out smelling of rubber and chloroform (it's not important how I know the smell of chloroform, it's need-to-know basis and you don't need to know), then changes to multiple layers of tropical fruits, finally evolving into the exact aroma of a box of jujubes (and it's not important how I know that, either, I just do)."

And -- on New Zealand Merlots: "New Zealand is about as synonymous with Merlot as I am with kiwi juggling, but this one is a winner (I did once juggle a Lake Geneva Playboy Bunny and a Miss McHenry runner-up, but I was quite youthful and generally anesthetized at the time, consequently more nimble and courageous; nowadays, I'm lucky to find my pants)."

Prepare to indulge heartily here, and heavily. Hungarian food mostly is enormous platters of tender, juicy beef piled atop plump noodles; breaded, fried veal cutlets nestled alongside great hunks of buttery fried potatoes; and deep-fried mushrooms, proud of their grease and cloaked in fat suits of tartar sauce. It's classic comfort. Favorite dishes include gently sautéed chicken livers, oven-baked pork loin, meat loaf in chubby slabs, sausage-potato-egg casserole, and obese sausage links resting on a bed of glossy tricolor peppers. There's no holding back the good stuff, either, with pools of rich cream sauce, lava flows of molten cheese, dollops of tangy sour cream and desserts that are more huge, sugar-entombed shrines than simply food. But most gratifying for us, the cuisine is rapturous, thanks to creative use of distinguished spices like paprika (spicy-sweet crushed pepper powder) and poppy seeds, plus sour cream to enrich rather than overwhelm.

If people only knew. If they'd only give it a try. The Valley would be such a happier place.

The result for her kosher-cookie-craving customers is a wide variety of premium treats, made with imported chocolate, real vanilla and butter (non-dairy types are available, too). They're baked daily; there is no freezer.

There's a favorite for everyone: chocolate chip, milk chocolate chip with pecans, oatmeal spice, apricot shortbread bars, classic peanut butter, raspberry shortbread bars, chocolate decadence and much more.

Oh yeah. We finally got out there to try it, and now, just try keeping us away. Angel Sweet makes its divine gelatos fresh every day, and is this stuff a knockout. Somehow, it manages to be low-fat, but you'd never know to taste the thick, rich Italian ice cream. One glance at the more than two dozen flavors on display, and our heads are spinning.

Angel Sweet's recipes, and many of its ingredients, come straight from Italy. Fruits are in high form, intense and arrogant, partnered with classic concoctions like tiramisu, panna cotta with caramel, and stracciatella (Italian chocolate chip).

Which reminds us: We really should give that friend a call back and thank him. But we can do that later, after we finish our dessert.

What's magical? How about merza farangee (grilled eggplant with sautéed onion, garlic, tomato, fresh herbs, feta and olive oil, dipped with toasted garlic pita and cucumber-yogurt sauce), hummus-tabbouleh pita, or tofu portobello (sautéed silken tofu, spinach, onion, garlic, ginger root, tomato, feta, olive oil, lemon and soy sauce with brown rice, toasted almond-saffron-raisin)? When we crave chicken, we get it spicy with mushroom, bell pepper, onion, scallion, ginger root, celery, garlic, tomatoes, fresh herbs, Persian spices, feta and soy sauce. And while there's no beef, we can get shrimp (scampi) and lamb (gyros).

Even dessert is delicious, with velvety vegan creations including pumpkin pie, carrot and cheese cakes, or Persian saffron rice pudding. It's all a dream, capped with a hot cup of Persian chai tea with rose water, rose petals and cardamom.

It's as good for us as it tastes. Ices are made with real fruit, and custards are 90 percent fat free. Ice flavors are bright and refreshing, like cherry, lemon, mango, watermelon, pia colada, blueberry, grape, prickly pear and cotton candy. Custard comes in chocolate or swirl. And though we had to wonder when we heard about it, we're now devoted fans of the Island Breeze, a gelato combination of Italian ice scooped between two layers of custard. How cool is that?

It could be the two free "super nutrients" blended into each smoothie. And these options are tangible substances -- bee pollen, oat bran, soy protein -- rather than chemical cocktails with vague, fancy names (a bowlful of "Femme Booste," anyone?).

It could be the immense variety. Fruit n' Tea Freezes of juice, fruit, green tea, vitamin C and folic acid. Vegetable blends of beet, carrot and celery juices. Cappuccino served hot, cold, flavored, in yogurt shakes. Non-dairy smoothies for the lactose-intolerant. MET-Rx shakes for the flab-intolerant.

Truth be told, the reason we love Fresh Blenders is this: Smoothies contain the only fruit our intestines ever see, and with flavors such as Orange Creamsicle Delight and Banana-Peanut Butter Yum Yum, this place makes nutritional noshing more score than chore. Plus the counter is piled with 98 percent fat-free cookies and brownies.

We can feel our thighs shrinking already.

About a half-dozen tartes usually are on the menu, and they may change with the seasons (rustic peach in the summer). Yet whatever the selection, there's something that never changes about these desserts: They're divine.

While numbers never were our strong point, we can appreciate a simple mathematical formula now and again. Here's one: Gooey fondue plus swanky lounge plus tiny pitchforks plus sticky fingers equals sexy with a capital SEX. No matter the flavor -- Grand Marnier-Chocolate, Godiva White Chocolate or Butterscotch-Caramel -- this fondue formula liquefies first-date tension.

Like the mixed messages that make our dates so very frustrating, the nibbles are both nourishing (strawberries, raspberries, bananas) and naughty (cubes of cheesecake, bites of brownie, squares of sponge cake). And how enticing that, once the morsels are gone, there's no way to get to the remaining chocolate without plunging our fat fingers right into the pot. Sure, the room is filled with Scottsdale's thinnest and most beautiful. All the better to parade around with chocolate smeared across our ever-loving faces.

No one's looking -- just fondue it.

It's fun to wander the shop and see what's new and exciting. If we want exotic game, we can ask for, and get, pretty much anything on special order. But we're captivated by that succulent steak, so thick and firm, blood red and singing with juices.

Woo-hoo, Hobe!

Smokey O's marinates its porkers in special seasonings, then roasts them for 27 hours over applewood smoke. The poor pig is then defiled with an apple in its mouth and a lei around its neck, but it sure tastes good. It's not even all that expensive -- $7.95 a pound for a big cooked pig, $3.50 raw. Poor pig, lucky us.

The thing is, the food warrants the pretension, because it's all outstanding. Jackets are required for men, almost unheard of in this casual town, but the requirement is fitting for such European elegance in decor, table settings, ambiance and service. Who wouldn't dress in the company of a $3 million wine collection offering more than 44,000 bottles and 1,800 labels?

It's pretty much a truck stop, parked among industrial yards, massive warehouses and salvage dumps. But it's pretty, like a country farmhouse inside, and flowing with serve-yourself coffee, fountain drinks and good cheer. The food is the real deal, too, homemade and hearty (the charbroiled chili-size burger is tops, flooded with spicy chili, Cheddar cheese and onions; the meat loaf is like Mom's, served with mashed potatoes, gravy, corn and a dinner roll). Any of the breakfasts start the day with a smile, like the $4.25 specials (ham and green chile scramble, hash browns and toast on Tuesdays). Thanks to our handyman, we've got a fix on the best working fella's lunch in town.

The place is tiny (order through a cutout in the wall), yet the menu is massive, almost galactic. More than 50 toppings. More than three dozen pizza combinations. More than two dozen subs, plus calzones, salads and appetizers. All with an otherworldly theme. Check out the names of the dishes: pulsar, axiom, quark, Apollo 13, full moon, alien, Sputnik. It's almost as much fun ordering as it is eating. No surprise, Cosmic caters to the ASU crowd, staying open until midnight on weekends with $1 delivery.

The moon isn't made out of green cheese. Here, it's a pie topped with breadcrumbs, prosciutto, garlic, Romano and basil.

Places like Jack in the Box or Denny's are quick fixes, but we can never respect ourselves in the morning. We rub our blurry eyes the next day, see that crumpled sourdough Jack wrapper by the side of the bed, and dread sets in -- what have we done?

So now, we head over to Mickey's Hangover, a fun dive bar that serves its full menu until 2 a.m. on weeknights, 3 a.m. on weekends. It's trailer-trash food, but well-prepared trash, like Santa Fe rolls of four fat taquitos stuffed with chicken and chiles in a thin, potent jalapeo sauce. Or "Jesus on the Mountain," mounding hefty shavings of ham with crisp bacon, melted Cheddar, two fried eggs and potato chunks on a bun. Or Mickey's Monster, an enormous pizza piled with every topping offered in this universe. And miniature hot dogs are cute, tucked in little-bitty buns, topped with Cheddar and chile, with a tiny bottle of Tabasco served alongside.

Hey, it's not high cuisine. But at least we won't be ashamed when we awake.

Which is why we have Western Pizza on our speed dial. The kind folks here keep the kitchen open until 1 a.m. on weeknights, and until 3 a.m. on weekends. They even deliver (from 32nd to 68th streets and Thomas to Camelback roads)!

Western Pizza serves up victuals so good, we could eat them 'round the clock. One pie, actually, keeps us full for at least two days. The 18-inch large is almost three inches thick and weighs almost 20 pounds, loaded to the gills with toppings like the Western Round-Up -- mushrooms, pepperoni, salami, ham, peppers and onions under buckets of mozzarella. And there's plenty of other delish dishes from which to choose: souvlaki on a stick (savory pork in Greek herbs), fries and gravy, a half-dozen types of wings, spicy barbecued ribs, a flurry of filling salads and funky desserts (bowl of cookie, puffed wheat cake and such). Now, is it time for breakfast yet?