La Vida

We love the art that celebrates Das de los Muertos, or the Day of the Dead the enormous papier-mch skeletons, the smaller scenes that depict the dead doing everything from writing at the typewriter to performing surgery in the operating room. But damn, sometimes that art can be expensive! So when we want a quick, sweet (but warning not edible) Day of the Dead fix, we head to the Willow House, where we can find a beautiful (in its way) sugar skull, made deep in Mexico and decorated with the traditional brightly colored sugar frosting and shiny tinfoil, for $4. On a recent trip to Willow, we also found a lovely cardboard Jesus air freshener to hang in the car.

The members of the Border Film Project Rudy Adler, Victoria Criado and Brett Huneycutt were smart enough to hand thousands of disposable cameras to immigrants and Minutemen. Some of them were smart enough to send them back, and SMoCA was smart enough to incorporate the results into a full-blown exhibition. We commend them all for creating a much more realistic glimpse of the border than most of us will ever get.

In the Southwest, "authentic" Mexican furniture isn't hard to find. Even big-box stores have hacienda collections these days. But that little "hecho en Mexico" sticker doesn't always mean much when it comes to quality. Authentic (not "authentic") handmade furniture and imports are much harder to come by. Fortunately, Bellas Artes de Mexico lives up to its name, making it our pick for best Mexican imports store. Walking into this family-owned furniture shop feels a bit like walking into the home of a 16th-century conquistador. The place is filled with beautifully hand-carved tables, doors and wardrobes with details so intricate it feels like they must open up to reveal some south-of-the-border Narnia. Bellas Artes is owned by Cristina and Felipe Guzman, who import furniture from their family's well-known furniture shop in Guadalajara, Mexico. The family's woodworking ability is clearly the star of the show the mesquite tables are breathtaking, and one of our favorite pieces was a Last Supper scene carved from one giant piece of pine but the store is also good for hand-painted ceramic dishes, traditional tin mirrors, and random, brightly painted knickknacks.

You don't have to go south of the border to find great Mexican pottery at least not south of the U.S. border. Just south of Arizona Mills mall is a cozy little brick storefront overflowing with clay pots and colorful planters painted in shades of burnt orange and turquoise. Inside, shelves are brimming with imported goods from Mexico and Latin America. There are ceramic lizards to crawl down your garden walls and a selection of handmade pots that dwarfs those of the gardening departments at Home Depot and Lowe's. There's a bit of a language barrier for non-Spanish speakers, but there are usually a few young translators around to help bridge the gap. Besides, the only question you'll really need to ask is Cunto cuesta? (How much?), because once you find a Mata Ortiz pot for less than its manufactured equivalent, you won't even dream of going somewhere else for Mexican home decor.

From roughhewn pine benches to massive armoires covered in wrought-iron spikes that look more like torture devices than entertainment centers, this North Valley warehouse has everything to make su casa exude rustic charm. La Casona specializes in high-end custom rustic furniture, which is hard to find even in most so-called authentic Mexican stores. A custom dining table with mesquite legs and padded leather chairs can set you back $10K, but we think it's worth it for an heirloom piece tailor-made for your space. Don't worry if that's more than you paid for your car, you can still find something that won't break the bank. The affordable stretched leather equipal tables, along with colorful Talavera pottery, tin mirrors and hand-painted folk art, will make your home feel like a permanent fiesta.

El Paso Import Co. started out selling authentic vintage Mexican furniture, but soon mixed in some reproductions (always making sure the buyer was aware). That's fine with us; we can actually afford this stuff. We love it, and are considering moving to a larger house since we've filled our own to the limit with armoires, huge tables and small cabinets, all trimmed with wonderful details and painted in funky colors when the natural wood isn't left alone. A repro like this, we'll take anytime!

Tucked behind the Yucca Tap Room on the southwest corner of Mill and Southern avenues in Tempe, this relaxed and friendly community space is the place where Spanish-language champions and students can sharpen their Latin-seasoned tongues. The bright blue, green, red and orange walls shower The Place with a south-of-the-border warmth in two classrooms hosting a variety of beginning, intermediate and advanced instruction, including lunchtime and happy hour conversation, reading, grammar and pronunciation. The library stocks Spanish-language newspapers, magazines and books, while the lounge area has an inviting, hostel-type community-room warmth with a coffee station, comfy chairs, and a television that shows films from a Latin American country of choice on Movie Mondays. The best value is the $50 monthly pass; day passes are available for $15, and there's a free open house every First Friday. Our favorite part? All instructors possess firsthand experience in Spanish-speaking countries and can beef up the vulgar vocab during the dirty words and slang class, offered every Thursday afternoon.

Are you ready to get juiced? Try the aguas frescas at Phoenix Ranch Market. There always seems to be a long line of thirsty people waiting for a drink at this store's festive kiosk, where employees ladle ice-cold beverages out of enormous glass jars. We're partial to the jamaica (pronounced "ha-my-ka," not "Jamaica," mon), a sweet, tart red punch made from dried hibiscus flowers. It's one of almost a dozen different flavors, including pia (pineapple), fresa (strawberry), papaya, and sandia (watermelon). Since the aguas frescas counter is planted right next to a picnic-table-filled dining area, where families slurp down their fruity concoctions along with la carte burritos and tacos, it almost feels like you're at a real Mexican mercado.

When we're drinking a margarita, we'll pass on that name-brand $30 shot; what we really want is lime so tart it stings, salt that flakes on our lips, a blend of the hard stuff that's not too heavy on the orange liqueur. And after tasting hundreds of margaritas across the Valley, we found that very combination at Padre's Modern Mexican Cuisine, the cheerful bar and grill just west of the Biltmore on Camelback Road. The house margarita a mix of Sauza Gold, triple sec, and fresh lime and lemon juice in a tall glass over ice is just $5, and so damn good, we guarantee you'll beg for a pitcher.

Yes, it's a chain restaurant. But the margaritas are so tasty, we're betting even the folks at Arizona Chain Reaction have a hard time resisting happy hour here. Generously poured, perfectly blended, and with just the right tequila kick, these margaritas would convince even the most ardent food snob to give the blender a chance. Feeling adventurous? Try a flight, with a trio of excellent mini margaritas flavored with your pick of prickly pear, guava, or even Chambord.

Perhaps the only clue that this isn't your average Sunnyslope hole-in-the-wall is the cars in the parking lot: On one recent Sunday, we spotted an Audi, a Beamer, and a Lexus side by side. But there's nothing pretentious or upscale inside this homey Mexican restaurant and its smoky blue-tiled bar, just (very) low-key ambiance and a huge selection of tequila. Ask the bartender to suggest a shot or two; from the clean slickness of a blanco to the peatiest of anejo, these women know their stuff.

A craving for Mexican food and a craving for Barrio Cafe's memorable fare are two completely different things. It's almost as if chef Silvana Salcido Esparza intentionally set out to defy diners' expectations, combining her own dazzling ideas with traditional flavors found in southern Mexican cuisine. Looking for chips and salsa to land on your table? Instead, you'll get a basket of soft, fresh bread with garlicky homemade olive spread. Think quesadillas are all about chicken and melted jack cheese? Not at Barrio. Here, try them with garlic and tequila lobster with Oaxacan cheese and queso de cabra. Esparza also creates wonderfully rich black mole, tender and tangy cochinita pibil (Yucatn-style slow-roasted pork), and melt-in-your-mouth pato en tamarindo (seared duck breast with zesty tamarind and chipotle sauce). Huge, beautifully presented tortas are worthy of knife and fork (we're fans of the torta del Barrio, with a Oaxacan-cheese-stuffed roasted poblano), and ethereal desserts like the churros rellenos de cajeta de cabra warm, crisp fritters filled with gooey goat's milk caramel, paired with vanilla ice cream end things on a high note. Dinner at Barrio Cafe just might rock your world.

What better way to enjoy a margarita (or several), a basket of chips and salsa (or several) and maybe even more, than on the twinkly patio at the Old Town Tortilla Factory? This longtime favorite is a little ritzier than your average Mexican dive, but a little less plastic than some of the neighboring Scottsdale joints. We love to kick back on the patio weather permitting and sample the bar's extensive tequila menu.

We still think Maricopa County Supervisor Mary Rose Wilcox should leave office to do the public service she does best running one of the best Mexican restaurants in town but we've gotta admit, the lady does a pretty good job of multitasking. You'll often see Wilcox along with members of her family, and a rotating selection of politicians, lobbyists and other government types hanging out in the large booths in the corner of this casual restaurant just south of downtown. They're here for the political gossip, but also for the machaca, which is even hotter than the news of the latest mishap at the Legislature. We could make a meal out of the endless chips and hot salsa, but always try to save room for carne asada tacos.

Los Dos Molinos just might be the king of all neighborhood Mexican joints. It's festive, with glossy blue walls, shiny red chile peppers hanging from the ceiling, and loud music; reasonably priced; and, of course, delicious. The menu covers basics like tacos, enchiladas, and tamales, and the house specialties are unforgettable: adovada pork ribs marinated in red chile; fall-apart-tender pork carnitas, slathered in melted cheese; and, if you feel like playing with fire, New Mexican red chile or Hatch Valley green chile plates. It's pretty much everything you'd want close to home, but what's so remarkable about this popular spot is how many people will go out of their way to eat here. From the looks of all the prominently displayed national magazine write-ups about Los Dos, folks don't just come here from all corners of the Valley, but all corners of the country, too. Talk about cravings!

It's amazing what can spring from a humble taco stand. Fifty years ago, Olivia and Julio Garcia started small, dishing up home cooking out of a tiny spot with only two picnic tables for seating. Over the years, the business took on new life as the Garcias opened more restaurants, expanding into a well-known chain. Eventually, the family sold their interest in it, but their legacy continues at the original Garcia's, a magnet for Mexican food fans in the West Valley. Portions here are generous, and prices are downright cheap. We're partial to the luscious green chile enchilada and spicy, roasted chile relleno, but the menu also boasts tostadas, tamales, tortas, and (on weekends) homemade menudo. The place is so popular that there can be a bit of a wait, but turnover's fast, thanks to several spacious dining areas. Decor is cute and cheerful, with mural paintings and framed pictures, and the main room resembles a tiny Mexican town square. Indeed, Garcia's has come a long way from two picnic tables.

Owner Mayela Vargas named El Peasco Mexican Kitchen after a tiny town in Chihuahua, Mexico, where her parents were born, and the hometown spirit shows. There's a village of miniature adobe homes on display in the middle of the room, murals of plants and pottery on the walls, and upbeat norteo on the stereo. Instead of chips, diners are presented with warm tortillas to scoop up a light, tangy green tomatillo salsa, flecked with soft bits of avocado and cheese. If you do order chips, though, try the slightly spicy red salsa, which is thick and tomatoey. (Both the red and green salsas took home second-place awards at the 2006 Southwest Salsa Challenge.) House specialties include carne asada del Peasco, coated in a complex blend of seasonings that evoke the fire of chorizo; shrimp enchiladas blanketed in a creamy sauce of green chile peppers and onion; and El Peasco burro, filled with moist white-meat chicken, lightly fried, and ladled with slightly spicy cream cheese sauce. And the family-style dinners, only available from the carry-out menu, are an irresistible bargain. ($16 to feed four? Sign us up!) It's enough to make the other neighborhoods jealous.

In Mexico, if you're hungry and looking for a lively gathering spot, you head to el zocalo, the bustling cultural epicenter of small towns and cities alike, where you can dine at an outdoor cafe and watch the world go by. In Chandler, if you're hungry and looking for a lively gathering spot, you head to this charming restaurant, situated on San Marcos Place, the city's own version of a town square. The atmosphere is stylish, service is friendly, and there's even outdoor seating on the romantic, plant-filled back patio. As for the menu, there's plenty to choose from casual eats like the generously sized carne asada torta, served on fresh, crisp bread, as well as dinner plates like the chicken mole, which is so luscious you'll be licking up every last drop with the help of hot, chewy tortillas. On Friday and Saturday nights, diners are treated to live music. No wonder there's often a line to get in.

Old Town Scottsdale isn't the first neighborhood that comes to mind for inspired Mexican food, which is why this unassuming, cheerful spot is such a pleasure to discover. Unlike glitzier restaurants a stone's throw away, where cocktails and cleavage compete with the eats, El Molino is all about the menu, full of scrumptious family recipes that've kept this place in business since 1937. There's a lot to choose from tacos, chimichangas, enchiladas and more. You can hardly go wrong. We like Nana Rosa's Special, a quesadilla roll of green chile, tender beef, and gooey cheese that melts in your mouth; and the El Molino Burro Supreme with machaca, a huge portion with a pleasingly spicy kick. El Molino's tamales (available in green corn or red beef) are wonderful, too, with sweet, delicate filling that's moist even without bitefuls of rich enchilada sauce. The best thing is, El Molino also sells tamales by the dozen and masa by the pound. That's right, they figured out we're hooked.

For years, college kids seeking a cheap meal and working professionals wanting a laid-back atmosphere for a break from business have been coming to this no-frills restaurant for irresistible Mexico City-style cuisine. There's no better time to come than Thursdays at lunch, where you can expect to find the joint filled with hungry folks chowing down on the $5.75 chicken mole, which comes with a white or dark meat chicken thigh served with an overflowing plate of Spanish rice, refried beans, two flour tortillas, and a side of lettuce and tomato. The peppy mole poblano sauce is a thick red blend with the perfect amount of zing containing a mixture of chile peppers, spices, and unsweetened chocolate that's not too tart or spicy. You can pig out on the complimentary basket of corn chips and mild salsa, but trust us you'll want to save room. The mole is worth the wait.

Good thing we love Sonoran cuisine, because it dominates the menu at so many Mexican joints around these parts. But sometimes, for variety's sake, it's a thrill to get a taste of what lies a lot farther south of the border. In the case of Asi Es La Vida, we're talking about specialties from Mexico's central and southern regions. Everything we've tried at this intimate, whimsically decorated spot is delicious (and live musicians make meals extra memorable), but the cochinita pibil slow-roasted pork done up Yucatn-style is outstanding. After one bite of this succulent dish, smothered in tangy, mildly spiced orange sauce, we decided we'll never settle for plain ol' carnitas again.

We tried no, make that really tried, just ask our editor to see if anyone in town could beat out Carolina's, the perennial winner of Best Tortillas. Surely, we thought, this sprawling metropolis has got to have a feisty new contender in this category. And indeed, there are some great homemade tortillas to be had around town. But nowhere else do they transform such seemingly simple food into something as sublime as what Carolina's cranks out by the hundreds. Stretched until they're huge and papery thin, these tortillas are served up hot and chewy, fresh off the griddle. Try them with a plate of creamy green chile or juicy machaca, and then grab a bag of warm ones to take home. Actually, better make that two bags. You'll be tearing into these babies before you leave the parking lot.

Tamales are tricky. We can whip up a taco, but when it comes to tamales, we have no idea how to get the corn base moist and tasty, or where to begin to make a filling as delicious as the inside of a pork tamale at Mucho Gusto. This Tempe haunt is a favorite far and wide, for innovative Mexican cuisine that reaches outside the box to tempt and challenge diners. The margarita menu is creative as well, and we are most happy with a thick, banana-leaf-wrapped tamale and a hibiscus marg.

You'll find all kinds of just-baked Mexican pastries on display at this sunny little nook, popular with the Chandler lunch crowd. But take one look at the menu, and it's pretty obvious what they do best at El Sol: burritos, which are the perfect showcase for El Sol's wonderful handmade tortillas. Start your morning with a cheap, hearty breakfast burrito, stuffed with potatoes and ham, bacon or chorizo, or drop by for a midday meal guaranteed to satisfy whatever kind of crazy burrito craving you've been having lately. We counted nine different fillings here: red or green chile, pollo or carne asada, shredded beef, shrimp, carnitas, and bean and cheese. Get any one of them fried or enchilada style, or go overboard with the Killer Burro, bursting with guacamole, sour cream, rice, and beans. It's sloppy good.

Bigger than a Dagwood. Taller than a New York deli sammy. Able to foot-punch Quiznos' patootie with one slice of bread tied behind its back. That's a Mexican-style torta from Tortas La Presa on North Seventh Street. Not for the weak of arteries, a La Presa torta is a mountain of mozzarella, sliced hot dogs, fried eggs, chorizo, breaded strips of beef called Milanesa, and at least half a dozen other items, including onions and avocados, all stuffed between a lightly grilled bun called a telera. It's the Godzilla of the sandwich world, a ginormous monstrosity that blows away all the pussyfoot panini in town. After downing one, you'll be so lightheaded from the carbs and protein, you'll want to curl up in the fetal position for a three-hour nap. Chase it with one of the freshly squeezed aguas frescas (Mexican fruit juices), and at least you'll feel better about all the grease you've just inhaled.

Maybe it's because we live deep in the middle of Cactus Country that we Phoenicians always seem to be craving seafood. Seems to explain the abundance of mariscos joints here in Sand Land, eh? Still, not all Mexican seafood establishments are created equal. So the one we always make a beeline for when that seafood craving overtakes us is Mariscos Playa Hermosa on 16th Street at Garfield. Here, the pulpo tostadas taste as fresh and the ceviches seem as zesty-lemony-limey as they should. And the camarnes culichi shrimp in tangy, green tomatillo sauce, drizzled over with melted manchego will make you sigh with ecstasy. Say you're hungrier than Rosie O'Donnell after a catfight with Star Jones? Order up one of Playa Hermosa's whole, fried mojarra (tilapia) and strip it clean, from head to tail, with your teeth. If that doesn't do the trick, we'll get you a one-way helicopter ticket to Puerto Peasco and have it drop your fat ass out over the Sea of Cortez into a school of mahi-mahi until you eat your fill like Flipper.

Nogales hot dogs are so very bad, and so very, very good. In fact, we like to think of these bacon-wrapped wieners drenched in mayo and topped with any number of condiments such as guacamole, cheese, pinto beans, onions, mushrooms, chopped tomatoes, and so on, along the same lines that we regard unprotected sex. It might not be the best thing to do in terms of your health, but damn if there isn't a sensory overload as a payoff. Usually, we down a Nogales hot dog on the way home from the tavern, when our judgment is seriously impaired by pitchers of beer and a series of Jger shots that would embalm a horse. We're hoping the fiber from the brew will help flush all of Nogales' vascular no-no's out of our arteries. Wishful thinking on our part, but what do you want us to do, stop eating the things?

We're chile relleno hunters, and we've spent years seeking the perfect specimen. In our culinary travels, we've encountered numerous wanna-bes, from rellenos that required a chain saw to those that collapsed in an indigestible heap, like a baking pie in an artillery range. Splat. The unassuming little restaurante named Rosita's has the best we've come across north of the border: firm, but not too firm, liberally coated though not slathered in cheese, fluffy as a freshly groomed Pomeranian, tender as love's first blush. Rosita doesn't skimp on the fixings, and her prices are delectably low. On a recent visit, three of us ordered full meals plus a round of bottomless iced teas and walked out a mere $23 in the red. Our hats are off and our belts are loosened.

The best tongue we've ever had was at Bikini Lounge on a First Friday from this artist chick named Summer who had a pierced nose and dreadlocks, though, of course, we couldn't really eat that tongue. Heh, not that we didn't try! Haven't seen Summer in many a month, but we think about her every time we bite into one of the lingua burritos over at Asadero Norte de Sonora, this little orange taco and burrito palace on 16th Street. The beef tongue is chopped up and grilled with onions, and it's so freakin' soft and savory we flash back to making out with Summer at the Bikini while drunken art lovers spill MGD on one another and get into bar fights. Ah, they are not long, the days of beer and tongue. But at least we'll always be able to relive them at Asadero, with a tall horchata and a tear in our eye.

Cruise south down Central Avenue and you're likely to pass Moreliana Fruit Bars, the birthplace of one of our favorite things about summer paletas, those sweet frozen bars hawked from little orange carts in the streets and avenues of Phoenix. For 21 years, Moreliana has been making a multitude of flavors at the moment, nine cream-based and nine water-based to cool us down even in our non-air-conditioned car. The company offers flavors that include vanilla, strawberry, and pineapple. For the adventurous, it also offers cucumber with chili, though we hear the boring gringos often just stick to chocolate. Hunt down one of the 30 carts Moreliana supplies around town soon it closes up shop in November when the weather cools off.

We have to wonder: If the cows are happier, does the meat taste better? Because that's the impression we get from Super Carniceria La Hereford, where blissful bovines populate the pasture on the store's colorful outside mural. Inside, you'll find upbeat accordion music, piatas hanging from the ceiling, and miniature aisles of snacks, produce, and seasonings that'll catch your eye on your way to the refrigerated meat cases in the back. There are more than a dozen offerings for your protein fix, including beef chuleta, steak milanesa, tripas, and lengua. And, of course, it wouldn't be on our radar without the spicy meats that make us crave Mexican cuisine, like longaniza, chorizo, and red-chile-marinated adobada. For folks hunting hot stuff of a different kind, La Hereford also has cooked, ready-to-eat meats such as carnitas and chicharrones. Grab some fresh masa, tortillas, and a few glass bottles of Mexican Coca-Cola, and you're good to go.

We used to think cherry slushies were the bomb, until we tried the raspado de tamarindo (tamarind-flavored Mexican shaved ice) at Frutti Sweets, a cheerful little shop that also sells soda, paletas, and ice cream. This sugar-rush-inducing concoction is a potent blend of chile powder, ice, tamarindo, a squeeze of fresh lemon, and a squirt of chamoy (fruity chile sauce), with a few saladitos (salted Mexican plums) thrown in. For extra kick, it comes with a chewy, chile-tamarindo candy-coated straw for simultaneous gnawing and slurping. The result is at once sweet and tangy, with slightly savory hints of spice an acquired taste, to be sure, but a welcome detour from one-dimensional fruit flavors. Consider this a brain freeze with a twist.

Does anyone in this town remember the Guggy's surprise cake? At this point, we're pretty sure we dreamed the whole thing up, but we have vivid memories of birthday cakes purchased at Guggy's coffee shop (there was one at Scottsdale Fashion Square, back in the day when that was still an outdoor mall) made of thick, rich layers of cake layered with sweet frosting and some sort of nutty, chocolaty filling the "surprise." Fantasy or not, we've fulfilled our longing with the Mexican version of the surprise cake tres leches cake at the bakery at La Tolteca. You can buy a whole chicken at the market at La Tolteca, or a great burrito at the takeout counter, but our favorite spot is the bakery, where the tres leches cake is sweet and rich, the cake itself almost creamy, layered not with chocolate and nuts but with vanilla icing and fresh strawberry or peach filling. Tres leches stands for "three milk," indicating the cake's key ingredients: condensed milk, evaporated milk and whole milk. We're sure Guggy's didn't pay quite as much attention to detail (what difference did our young palates know?), and we're happy as adults to celebrate our birthdays from here on with La Tolteca's specialty.

Everyone has a weakness. For some, it's gambling. Sex. Chocolate. For us, it's Azteca's glorious conchas swirled sweet rolls laced with a ribbon of sugary pastel icing. It's hard to go into this bakery and come out with less than a sackful of the light, flaky pastries. Founded by Bernardo Lopez in 1956, Azteca is now one of the largest local suppliers of baked goods. The shop has since been passed on to his children, and now employs dozens of bakers, but the high quality of its food has never changed. Regular offerings include fruit-filled empanadas (turnovers), cuernos (croissant-shaped rolls) and orajas (puff pastry). It's not unusual to find customers with their noses literally pressed against the glass display cases, ogling the bolillo rolls and butter cookies inside. Sure, the place serves fabulous cosido, a hearty beef soup with root vegetables and corn, but who can think about lunch when the sweet scent of pan dulce is wafting from the kitchen?

Whenever a fifth Sunday squeezes into the crowded calendar, Nancy Lewis and her crew of Spanish cultural champions fill their mouths with linguistics and their bellies with delectable Latin food. The group samples authentic Latin cuisine outside of the standard Sonora, Mexico, fare, including the centrally located Havana Cafe (Cuban) and Eliana's (Salvadoran), the West Valley's Mi Cocina (Ecuadorian), and Scottsdale's Pepin (Spanish). In the spring, a group of 35 hungry folks gathered at a recent favorite discovery, Mesa's tiny Restaurante Salvadoreo, chowing on healthy portions of pupusa (thick hand-made corn tortilla stuffed with cheese or meats), fried plantains, and succulent entrees for under $10, including pollo encebollado (chicken with onion) served with black beans and rice. The event is both Spanish- and English-language-friendly, and newcomers are always welcome. Buen provecho!

At Phoenix Ranch Market's new sit-down Mexican restaurant, there's always music. Sometimes it's piped in, but more often, it's performed by live musicians perhaps a band out on the courtyard stage, or a soloist singing romantic melodies from his vantage point behind a keyboard in the busy dining room. The spirited sounds make the festive atmosphere even more fun, and when Mariachi o Trio Alegria is working the crowd, it's an extra special treat to be serenaded at lunchtime. We're accustomed to seeing mariachis after dark, but these gentlemen were tableside on a recent Friday afternoon. Decked out in sharp traditional costumes, these three talented, smiling gents (two guitarists and a harpist) stroll from table to table, taking requests, singing triumphant folk songs, and causing outbreaks of applause at every stop. We're not sure if their performances actually enhance our appetite, or whether they just go well with frosty margaritas. Either way, "La Cucaracha" never sounded so good.

The worst thing a Mexican restaurant can do is hire a bad mariachi band. Imagine being tied to your table, waiting for the check, while the Mexican Hat Dance plays for the umpteenth time. Shudder. We've been there. Thankfully, you won't have that experience at La Casa del Mariachi. Sure, the interior is pure kitsch, with faux tile roofs, candy-colored walls and burro murals. The music is fabulous, though. On weekends, the Salon Guadalajara banquet facility adjoining the main restaurant transforms into a dance hall. Latin beauties in red skirts twirl around the floor as the band's crooner, in sparkling charro suit and sombrero, sings of love and loss. Even if you're a hardened mariachi-hater, you can't help but tap your toes after a few minutes of the lively beat.

Even before reggaeton became all the rage in the Valley, Club 95 was playing hot tracks by reggaeton artists like Daddy Yankee, Don Omar, and Ivy Queen. The station also sponsored various reggaeton nights around the Valley, adding even more muscle to the growing music scene. Club 95's DJs also spin Mexican regional and Spanish pop, but in the past year, the format has become more reggaeton. The "Latino Vibe" is still there, though, and the Phoenix flavor comes through in the Spanglish that saturates the frequency. Club 95 DJs like Mikey Fuentes, Jose El Cubanito, Diamond Boy Luis, and the stunning Jackie Morales are local celebrities in the Latino world, showing up at different station events and promotions, and fielding on-air phone calls from listeners and fans. So despite the fact that Club 95 plays very little (if any) mariachi and accordion music, the station is clearly a bridge between cultures in the Valley, and hands down the most popular station among the young, hip Latino/Latina crowd.

According to author Elijah Wald, there have been public cries to ban narcocorridos, or Mexican drug ballads, in Mexico since the '70s. Baja California jumped on the bandwagon with a voluntary ban in 2002. Even Arizona has considered a radio ban on narcos. Yeah, good luck with that. Often talked about as the cousin to gangsta rap, narcos hide on the shelves of most Latino stores, behind polica-friendly Shakira and Enrique Iglesias CDs. Discoteca de Joyas Musicales doesn't play that game. A glance at the rack offers hard-core narcos from two of the most popular players in the genre, Reynaldo Martinez and Los Tigres del Norte. If you don't speak espaol, you'd better learn some before you shop here. Basic phrases like "how much is this" and "where can I find" are pretty much all you need to know. But for heaven's sake, don't go asking for "Mexican drug music" unless you'd like to get up close and personal with a pistola.

What's a party without a piata? Boring, we say. And what better way to acquire your piata than with a one-stop party shop at Dulceria Pico Rico? This well-lighted, expansive shop on 16th Street, in the heart of what we've come to call Little Mexico, has a wide array of piatas, in all the probably-not-sanctioned characters of the day from the princesses to the Power Rangers and everything in between. We're hoping for a Shrek piata on our own birthday, along with a color-coordinated fete you can find all the purple and green tissue paper, tablecloths, plates and napkins you can imagine. And don't worry about making an extra stop for candy. Dulceria Pico Rico stocks enormous bags of mixed candy. Exciting!

The quinceaera was originally a religious coming-of-age ceremony that declared a young virgin eligible for marriage. Today, it's more like a Hispanic teenager's excuse to party. Yes, it's supposed to be about God, but what would a celebration of womanhood be without the perfect dress? Azteca Wedding Plaza specializes in quinceaera supplies, from frilly white dresses to wax-covered floral headpieces and bouquets. It's not exactly the place you go to be waited on. The staff is largely bilingual and will assist madre with a special-occasion dress, but the quinceaera is usually stuck hefting a pile of gowns to the dressing room herself. Still, we think the massive selection of formal gowns is well worth the extra effort. There are elegant silk sheaths for the damas (think bridesmaids), colorful ruffled A-lines for the modern quinceaera, and rows of white princess ball gowns that symbolize purity and virtue. As for that aforementioned virgin requirement, let's just say the staff at Azteca is smart enough to have a "don't ask, don't tell" policy.

There's a reason hordes of Hispanics have been heading for downtown Phoenix in recent months, and it isn't to stage another massive demonstration for immigrant rights. It's because Dodge Theatre has become something of a hot spot for superstar Latino acts over the past year. The topflight, 5,000-seat venue has been packed with Chicanos from across the Valley, who show up in force to peep norteo songsters like Juan Gabriel, Grammy winners Intocable, and Los Tigres del Norte, as well as the likes of gifted Guatemalan singer-songwriter Ricardo Arjona, ranchera star Vicente Fernndez, the Mexican pop duo Sin Bandera, and others. They're the kinda tunes you could enjoy every day on any of the myriad local Latino stations dotting your radio dial, if only you'd bother to learn a second language, ignoramus.

Andy Herrera, a.k.a. DJ Big Latin, has been spinning cumbia, bachata, merengue, and reggaeton around the Valley for the past four years, and the portly Dominican has always been one step ahead of the trends, helping to launch the Valley's first (and still most popular) reggaeton night at Jackson's on 3rd, networking with the Valley's Latin radio stations, and bringing national acts like Chosen Few and Ivy Queen into his shows. Though he no longer spins at Jackson's, he's filled his schedule with other caliente weeklies and can be found working the turntables at La Perla Cafe on Tuesdays and Wednesdays; Tilly's on Thursdays; Macayo's on Fridays; and CBNC on Saturdays. He makes some mean mix CDs, too, so if you like what he pulls out of his stacks o' wax when you're shakin' your booty on the dance floor, ask him nicely and he'll probably hook you up.

In its past incarnation as the Crowbar, Club Dwntwn was a hip-hop and Top 40 palace catering to gay clientele. Now, the club is one of downtown's top gay Latin hot spots, offering two dance floors with DJ-spun cumbia, salsa and Spanish-language rock. Despite the recent surge in popularity, Latin-Jamaican hybrid reggaeton (pronounced "reggae-tone") is only played at a handful of clubs, and it's why we flock to Dwntwn on Beat Lab Saturdays. DJ's Rubass, Joey and Ponk scratch wax until the wee hours of the morning, playing tunes like "Oye Mi Canto" and Daddy Yankee's mega-hit "Gasolina" as a sweaty throng of dancers grinds to the trademark Dem Bow beat. The only drawback is the dress code, which seems to have taken a cue from Dwntwn's posh neighbor, Amsterdam. No baggy pants, sneakers or sunglasses for guys, although chicas are allowed to wear anything they want as long as they look muy caliente!

No doubt about it now Karamba is purely a gay Latin club, even if it's best known for having hosted the hugely popular '80s/electro/glam night "Hot Pink!" on Fridays. Club owners recently replaced "Hot Pink!" with "Vertigo Fridays," a reggaeton and Latin dance night, complete with lithe, gyrating go-go boys. The rest of the week is filled with Latino/Latina drag shows and more dancing. So really, any night of the week here is a great gay Latin dance night. But "Kaliente Saturdays," now the club's longest-running weekly night, brings out the most buff and beautiful boys. "Kaliente" also kicks the most comprehensive and diverse of Latin jams, including salsa, merengue, cumbia, rock and pop en espaol, and high-energy Latin house, spun by DJs Tranz and Melo. Best of all, there's no cover before 10 p.m.

Although it might take you a few extra minutes to get through the long line outside this west-side Hispanic hangout, the wait will be well worth it, if for no other reason than to peep the outlandish fashions on display by the throng of Latino clubgoers who flock to the ultra-popular Club Macarena every weekend. Rancheros sport shiny new cowboy duds complete with roach-killing boots so pointy they look like they're straight from the mind of Salvador Dali while bootylicious barrio babes show off outfits so flattering to their posteriors they'd make J.Lo blush. Once you've gotten an eyeful, make your way into the crowded nightclub for an earful of sweet cumbia, norteo and reggaeton tracks spun by local DJs, or live mariachi music after 11 p.m. If you can somehow get a spot on the crowded dance floor, try busting some moves with plenty of cabrnes and mamacitas, or see if you can snag a roaming Polaroid photog to take your picture for only a five-spot. After all, you'll need something to help jog your memory after awakening from your drunken haze the next morning.