About 10 years ago, the City of Phoenix Parks and Recreation department noticed a town that was brown. "With Latinos poised to become the majority in Phoenix in the near future," says Carmela Ramirez, "we needed to be ready to help empower our community and stop others from taking advantage of us." Ramirez, along with co-founders Albert Santana and Diane Figueroa, accepted the city's challenge to create an organization that could help the Latino community boost knowledge about health, education, business, and arts.
Now, the Latino Institute's highly popular signature events routinely draw thousands of families — both newly arrived and natives. Every year, the Latino Institute offers a Teen Conference, a Back to School Fair and a large festival celebrating Dia de los Niños. The events are always non-alcoholic, non-threatening bilingual forums where Latinos can ask just about any question on their minds to the people who have all of the answers. Bankers, police officers, artists, teachers, business leaders and mortgage lenders are just a few of the panelists and speakers who show up with information at the Latino Institute events. At least five other cities in the country have modeled similar programs after the Phoenix Latino Institute. Nice!
On a sizzling afternoon, we've found a way to beat the heat that's even better than a slushie: a Mexican slushie. Made with fresh fruit chunks, flavored syrups, and scoops of shaved ice, they're called raspados and do they ever hit the spot when the heat's starting to make us a bit loco. La Reyna Michoacana, a cheerful sweet shop with shiny white tile floors, bright lemon-hued walls, and colorful fruit paintings along the counter, is our favorite pit stop for this south-of-the-border refreshment, offering raspados in flavors from strawberry and pineapple to rompope, a sweet almond concoction reminiscent of eggnog. Try one straight up, or order it diablito, with ground chile flakes to add a spicy twist. Sweetened condensed milk is another delicious addition, especially with La Reyna's fabulous tamarind raspado. No matter what flavor you go with, just remember — you gotta drink up to cool down.
When summertime arrives — you know, in early March — we start craving Mexican popsicles, known as paletas. This year, we started the hunt for the cantaloupe bars we recalled from last season, but it wasn't easy to find them. We remembered Moreliana's cute packaging (a boy and girl enjoying their paletas) but figured, hey, one paleta's as good as the next — so we bought a bag of another brand. Not so, amigas. Only Moreliana's — available in pushcarts through the summer, and at various small ice cream shops and bakeries (but not Phoenix Ranch Market) — packs their paletas with tons of fresh fruit, so (to paraphrase Willy Wonka) the cantaloupe really tastes like a cantaloupe and the watermelon really tastes like a watermelon. The mango with chile is also the real deal — so much so that three of us tried to eat one without our mouths going numb and our faces sweating, but had to give up. Still, we gave up smiling.
There's nothing like an ice cream sundae to satisfy a sweet tooth. Not just any sundae, mind you, but the kind of layered confection that's so good you'll forget there's such a thing as a love handle. With south-of-the-border Coke in glass bottles, nachos, and wicked chile tamarind raspados, too, this isn't your ordinary ice cream shop. Fruitti Sweets is a tiny little spot that scoops up lip-smacking flavors like boysenberry sorbet, and sugar-free caramel praline. Dreamy chocolate and fresh strawberry are among the sugary syrups we can't live without.
We can't skip the whipped cream, and the toppers include coconut so fresh we swear someone's grating them up in the back. They've got your maraschino cherry covered. Just when you thought it couldn't get any sweeter, pink and yellow sugar wafer cookies seal the deal. For less than three bucks, this sundae's so hot it's cool.
We have a very good friend who's a very good cook, and recently, she let on that she's been perfecting a recipe for tres leches cake. We put in an order for our birthday, but 'til then, we will continue to worship La Tolteca's version. Tres leches means "three milks," indicating the main ingredients: condensed, evaporated, and whole milk. All together, you've got one rich, delicious cake, so moist it's hard to tell where the icing leaves off and the cake begins. Dear friend, you have big shoes to fill! We can't wait to see if you're up to the task of matching the fine bakers at La Tolteca.
It doesn't matter if we feast on a platter of fabulous carne asada, or inhale a whole basket of chips with queso fundido or chunky homemade guacamole — we always have room for dessert at Los Sombreros, one of the best places in the Valley for gourmet Mexican food. In particular, we're fanatics of the flan, served up in a thick, generous slice. It's almost big enough to share, but we'd never want to, especially since it's paired with Almendrado tequila. What? Tequila with dessert? Oh, yes, indeed. It's a sweet, aged liqueur with an intense, deep almond flavor. Swirl it a little, inhale that seductive aroma, and then take a sip before you take a bite of silky, creamy flan. It's even better when you drizzle it right on top of the custard. And don't worry about getting funny looks from your waiter. He'll be cheering you on until your last delicious bite.
We can't tell you how happy we are that the Atkins diet trend has completely fizzled. For a while there, Mexican pastries were our naughty little secret, an indulgence that we couldn't sheepishly mention without getting dirty looks from our protein-obsessed friends. But now that everybody's back to embracing over-the-top carbs (how else to explain the cupcake phenomenon?), we'll tell anyone within earshot where to go for the most authentic Mexican treats around: Flores Bakery. Planted right in the heart of the Mexican/Native American community of Guadalupe, this small shop is as wonderful as it smells (you can catch a whiff of oven-fresh goodies before you even set foot in the place). And what a selection! We love the pan dulce, the pineapple-filled empanadas — it's all good. They also have crusty, golden bollilos (bread rolls), flaky orejas made from puff pastry, and plenty of those three-colored cookies known as golleta bandera. While we're there, we can stock up on basics like salsa, masa, and tortillas, too, but let's face it — we're there to satisfy our sweet tooth.
David Pham is a classically trained French pastry chef from Vietnam who runs a Phoenix bakery that caters mainly to Mexicans. Don't you just love America? (Okay, don't answer that. We're sick of you bigots out there!)
In any case, Pham has certainly added a dose of sugar to the local melting pot with the Bamboo Bakery. Initially, Pham focused on croissants and pastries, but as his reputation spreads, he's been making more cakes — specifically, brightly hued Mexican tres leches cake and fancy cakes in just about any shape, for quinceañera celebrations. (A favorite: a cake designed to look just like the guest of honor's fancy party dress.) Stop by the store, or check out the bakery's Web site, which will allow you to choose from more than 150 flavors of cakes and fillings. As for designs, the only limit is your imagination, and Pham will do you up right for any holiday.
Since those popsicle pushcarts are, literally, moving targets, when we get a taste for our favorite paletas, we head to this sweet little shop, where the freezer is always packed with cantaloupe, watermelon, and tamarind popsicles. Realeza Michoacana also sells a wide variety of ice cream and fresh fruit spiked with chile, as well as a bakery case full of fresh cookies and breads. But our favorite part of a stop here is the chance to admire the walls, which are painted our favorite shade of raspberry pink, adorned with large, kitschy paintings of the restaurant's offerings. We love the big ice cream cone and corn on the cob on the window, and the basket of the fruit on the front wall. We are particularly fond of the pile of baked goods under the word Panadera — it's good to have a visual, since, we're embarrassed to admit, we don't speak a word of Spanish. But the language barrier never stops us from walking out of Realeza Michoacana feeling just a little sweeter.
Why is there always a line at the grass-roofed hut next to the open dining area at Phoenix Ranch Market? Because all those hungry shoppers need something thirst-quenching to go with the burritos, tacos, and tortas they're getting at the hot foods counter, and these refreshing, cantina-style drinks (most made with fresh fruit juices) taste good with everything. Not to mention, the aguas frescas bar here has so many craveable flavors, from luscious papaya to tart jamaica (hibiscus) to sweet, milky horchata, which tastes kind of like rice pudding. Nearly a dozen of them are ladled out of big, barrel-shaped glass jars filled with ice, so they're cold enough to revive you from the withering heat outside. We recommend ordering the biggest size they have — you might look goofy holding that huge Styrofoam cup, but it's the only thing that'll last through lunch and a grocery shopping spree.
Hey, have you been to Christown Mall lately? That is one weird mall, dude. You walk
inside — and there's a Costco. And a Wal-Mart.
Luckily, in between the two, along with Famous Footwear and Claire's, is La Olla. It's a cubby of a coffee shop, and we would never have found it if a good friend with a taste for all things Latin hadn't mentioned it. The place bills itself as a "Euro Latino Espresso Café," and it was funny to see our lattes and cappuccinos translated into Spanish. We tried the house specialty, La Olla — sweetened espresso smothered in chocolate and accented with cinnamon. Delicious, not quite like any coffee drink we've had. And now we can't wait to go back to Christown.
Even though mole shows up on a lot of menus around town, it's usually the token Oaxacan entree in a sea of Sonoran specialties. But at Mini Mercado Oaxaca — located in the heart of Sunnyslope, where the burgeoning Oaxacan community has earned the 'hood the nickname "Little Oaxaca" — the mole isn't just a stand-alone regional item. Here, it's joined by excellent sopes, chilaquiles, tlayudas (pizza-sized tortillas with a variety of toppings), and other hard-to-find dishes.
In other words, this stuff is deliciously authentic, and worth seeking out. Whether you're in the mood for rich mole rojo, chock full of red chiles, or a deep, dark mole negro (a spicy, mysterious concoction made with unsweetened chocolate), they both taste great with the roasted chicken, a whole thigh and leg so plump with meat that you'll have a field day scooping up all that mole. And don't worry — even after you've picked every last bit of meat off the bones, you can clean your plate with warm, soft tortillas. Can't let a good mole go to waste!
We've given Carolina's "Best Tortillas" more times than we can count, but don't assume we're being lazy just because we're giving them the honor again. Seriously, we spend all year thinking about tortillas, comparing the offerings at every Mexican place we visit to the hot, homemade beauties we find here.
Indeed, there are lots of tasty tortillas in these parts, but Carolina's are still the gold standard. They're thin and stretchy and almost delicate, but big and firm enough to hold a gut-busting amount of machaca or chorizo and beans without exploding after one bite. Beyond that, they're irresistible on their own. While hundreds of Mexican joints in the Valley look for new ways to dress up their tortillas, Carolina's is doing just fine, thank you, selling them plain. When they're fresh off the griddle, you'll want to eat them by the bagful.
The first time we ordered a quesadilla at this downtown Tempe eatery, we had to do a double-take when it arrived with our meal — it was unlike any we'd ever seen. Usually, we have some kind of melted cheese-and-tortilla thing in mind.
But at Restaurant Mexico, where the menu focuses on Mexico City-style dishes, the kitchen has a lighter touch with everything. As for the quesadillas, they're made with fresh masa (corn dough) that's deep-fried and filled with spicy chorizo or beef picadillo, a far cry from the typical rendition you see in these parts.
Nowadays, Restaurant Mexico is the only place we can really get our quesadilla fix. Shame to think the place almost went under with all the development going on in Tempe. But earlier this year, it moved into new digs on Mill, its fourth location in more than 30 years of business. We couldn't be happier to see this institution stick around — and from the looks of all the hungry patrons chowing down there at lunchtime, we know we have plenty of company.
What makes the green corn tamales at El Bravo so addicting? Is it the moist, sweet masa, or the creamy, tangy green sauce? We're not sure, but we know that every time we visit this cheerful, family-run nook, we can't resist ordering one. The menu's filled with other temptations, too — like burros made with thin, homemade tortillas, and a unique, house-specialty machaca made with dried beef and eggs — but we can always save room for a tamale. And now that El Bravo has a second location in Sky Harbor's Terminal 4, we're psyched that we can stuff our faces before boarding our next flight.
Sooner or later, you're going to blow your diet, so you might as well come to Los Reyes de la Torta and enjoy every guilt-inducing bite of their gargantuan Mexican sandwiches. There's hardly anything here for vegetarians, but if you're a meat lover, you'll get a week's worth of protein (not to mention calories) stuffed into one big bun. Can't decide between breaded beef, pork sirloin, ham, or chorizo? Well, let the namesake torta del rey make things easy for you. The thing's layered with all that and more: refried beans, melted cheese, eggs, avocado, jalapeño, tomato, and onion. It sounds like a lot to bite into — and it is — but what's shocking is how easily you can sink your teeth into one. The lightly grilled bread is fluffy and moist, and the thinly sliced meats are remarkably tender. You'll scoff at how big these tortas are, until you find yourself polishing one off, slurping on some pineapple juice, and rubbing your belly like one happy Buddha — or the Latin equivalent.
Okay, we know what you're thinking. "How much can a restaurant improve on the time-honored taco, enchilada, and chile relleno platter?" Our answer: When it doesn't include any of the above.
We're used to getting variety at Mexican restaurants, but Mi Cocina Mi Pais has won us over by sheer novelty, with a tasty culinary repertoire that ventures much farther south of the border, to Ecuador, Peru, and Colombia. In particular, we're enthralled with La Bandeja Paisa, a combination plate with more variety than anywhere in town, aside from all-you-can-eat buffets. This incredible combo includes marinated steak, chorizo, a fried pork rib chicharron, a pile of patacones (unripened plantain fritters), fried plantains, arepas (fluffy corn cakes), rice, warm pepper relish, red beans, avocado, and a fried egg. No wonder it's unofficially considered the national dish of Colombia — La Bandeja Paisa is the kind of homey, filling meal that could lull an entire country into a sweet, patriotic food coma. We pledge our allegiance to Mi Cocina Mi Pais.
Close your eyes, pretend the sound of cars passing by on McDowell is actually waves crashing on the shore of the Sea of Cortez, and let your taste buds take a beach vacation at San Carlos Bay, where you'll find the finest Sonoran-style seafood in town. Perfectly cooked shrimp dishes are plentiful here. No matter what you're craving, the menu has something for every mood, from tangy culichi-style shrimp, to fiery endiablados shrimp, to shrimp sautéed with octopus, onions, celery, and jalapeños in a light garlic sauce, served on a bed of French fries. (It sounds strange, but boy, is it tasty.) For something dramatic, try the snapper Veracruz, a whole fried fish blanketed in a chunky sauce of tomatoes, peppers, onions, and olives. And on a hot day, nothing will cool you down like San Carlos Bay's famous seven seas cocktail, with plump oysters, clams, squid, shrimp, and octopus in a chilled, cilantro-flecked tomato broth. It's the next best thing to seaside dining.
A downside of most Mexican restaurants in the Valley is menu fatigue. We love classic Sonoran dishes, but sometimes a break from tradition is just what we're craving. At times like those, we head to Padre's, where Mexican food comes with a twist.
For starters, we're hooked on the lobster thermidor quesadilla, and lately we can't resist the cilantro mousse with chips, which makes an addicting accompaniment to one of Padre's top-notch margaritas. As for entrees, duck breast tacos with tomatillo salsa are a fine alternative to ubiquitous carne asada tacos (of course, they have those, too), and the pollo relleno — chicken breast stuffed with poblanos, goat cheese, caramelized onions and corn, and slathered in poblano cream sauce — is a guilty pleasure. Well, maybe not that guilty — we've ordered it too many times to count.
A lot's been written about chef-owner Silvana Salcido Esparza's creative, contemporary Mexican fare, from the fresh guacamole with pomegranate seeds, prepared tableside, to her hauntingly delicious
cochinita pibil, fork-tender pork that's been slow-cooked for 12 hours.
Indeed, we still think Barrio Café is worthy of every "Best of" we've given it. But brunch here is still — 'til now, anyway — an unsung pleasure, with distinctive dishes you won't find anywhere else in town.
The crepa de chorizo is a dreamy concoction, with spinach, spicy sausage, and queso fresco rolled up in a hollandaise-covered crepe, while the pastel de calabazas con queso, a veggie-stuffed omelet slathered in spicy tomatillo sauce, will wake your taste buds right up. And if that's not enough of a morning boost, try Barrio Café's tequila-soaked version of the bloody Mary, the sangrita. Now that's our kind of eye-opener.
When you need to please the kids and the grandparents alike, head to Tradiciones. Heck, you might as well invite your extended family while you're at it, because the colorful dining room has abundant seating for large groups. Ordering appetizers is a snap, thanks to the generous sampler plate, and "La Parillada," the house-specialty platter heaped high with sizzling grilled meat, is perfect for sharing. Besides the accessible Sonoran cuisine, grownups will go for the stiff margaritas, while little ones will love the festive atmosphere — when the restaurant's decorated with bunches of colorful balloons and the singing mariachis stroll past your table, it feels like one big party.
We couldn't dream up a better neighborhood Mexican joint than Rosita's Place. It's got that been-there-forever charm — with rustic décor, and a bubbling water fountain that flows into a tiny fish pond — along with welcoming service from waitresses decked out in ruffled dresses. The prices are old school, too. This is the kind of restaurant where you can feast for less than 10 bucks, and feed yourself well for around five.
As for the food itself, Rosita's Sonoran specialties always hit the spot. The salsas here are great, and definitely worth the extra buck it'll cost you for chips. Machaca is memorable, too, and you can eat it any which way — in a burro or taco, on a chimichanga, or straight-up, with a pile of warm tortillas. Enchiladas topped with red or green chili sauce, top-notch albondigas, mouth-watering mole, and fluffy, cheesy chile rellenos are just a few of the dishes that've kept us coming back here time and time again. The thick, creamy flan is reason enough to stop by, and the place does a fine Mexican-style breakfast as well. Every neighborhood should be lucky enough to have an old faithful like Rosita's Place.
The Sanchez family's South Central eatery has been around nearly 40 years, thanks to tasty Sonoran cuisine and a welcoming atmosphere fit for families — the sprawling dining rooms here go on and on, each one painted a more colorful hue than the last.
Comedor Guadalajara's menu is pretty extensive, too, with burritos, tacos, chimichangas, and a nice selection of combination plates. Try the shrimp enchiladas, draped in a creamy sauce of green chile and tomatillo, or the steak picado, with chopped beef, onions, tomatoes, and jalapeños slathered in tangy red sauce. Parrilladas (heaping platters of grilled meats meant to be shared) are the specialty here; the seafood version, piled with fresh shrimp, lobster tail, mussels, squid, calamari, and a whole tilapia, is an impressive spread. It helps to take a friend or two to help you eat it all, but don't feel guilty if you'd rather stuff yourself silly.
From the looks of its plain, brick exterior, it's hard to tell how hoppin' it is inside Pedro's, but once you snag a table and dig in to dinner here, you'll immediately get why this place has become a west-side institution.
The Sonoran-style eats are homey and flavorful, and portions are downright grande — the burros, in particular, are quite a mouthful. We like the spicy homemade chorizo and bean version. Pedro's enchiladas have kick, too, but it's not all hot stuff. The chicken dishes are cooked in a mild sauce of tomatoes, chiles, and onions. And if you're a machaca lover, don't miss the stuffed quesadilla, a house specialty. An oversized flour tortilla filled with shredded beef, cheese, chiles and tomatoes, this grilled beauty will melt in your mouth. With so much food, you might take home leftovers, but we guarantee they won't stay in your fridge for long.
Who knew that a couple of tacos and some cerveza is all it takes to feel like you're on vacation? The beachy vibe at Guedo's is so true to the laid-back spirit of Baja that the only thing missing is the smell of the ocean breeze. Outside, the patio is decked out with palapas, palm trees, and plenty of misters. Walk through the front door, and you're in a happy wonderland of kitsch — there are photos everywhere, colorful painted parrots and bunches of chiles hanging in the front dining room, and Mexican beer signs on the walls.
It's all enough to make you smile, but the food will make you downright giddy. The tortillas here are delicious, the tomatillo and red chile salsas are mouth-watering, and the meat fillings for the huge selection of tacos, burritos, tostadas and cheese crisps are completely addicting. As you'd expect from such a seaside-inspired spot, Guedo's does a great fish taco. A less obvious hit is the chicken taco, with moist chunks of meat in a spicy red sauce. Next time you're antsy for a south-of-the-border road trip, Guedo's will help tide you over.
Tucked into the corner of a strip mall where Fry's is the main attraction, Casa Reynoso doesn't look like much from the parking lot. Inside, though, it's cozy, with lots of archways, wrought iron, hanging plants, and pottery. Grab one of the booths and take your time with the menu, which showcases recipes handed down through generations of the Reynoso family, based in Globe. Roasted green chiles are the foundation of several star dishes here; go for the green chile enchiladas, a gooey, eggy chile relleno, or the gollo burro, filled with green chile, pork, beans, cheese, and onions. The awesome house salsa is hot but addicting, and the homemade tortillas are prepared daily. Dinner at Casa Reynoso is also easy on the wallet, so go ahead and order another margarita — you can justify this one.
Los Olivos' original Scottsdale location has been around for decades, and it's one of the funkiest Mexican restaurants in the Valley. The quirky blue room, just a step past the lobby, looks like a psychedelic underwater scene, with a big fish tank and a cluster of bubble-shaped skylights that cast a cool glow on tables full of diners. Meanwhile, the main dining room feels more traditional, with the exception of oversized sculptures and planters that add a surreal touch.
If the atmosphere puts you in a whimsical mood, try the Mexican Flag, an eye-catching trio of enchiladas topped with red chile sauce, sour cream, and green chile. Fajitas are another house specialty, served with a heap of colorful vegetables, guacamole, beans, and sour cream. And instead of the usual side of refried beans, go with the frijoles charros — spicy pinto beans flecked with cilantro. At Los Olivos, primo Mexican comfort food plus a fun vibe equals a neighborhood favorite that Scottsdale can be proud of.
A good friend led us to Costa Vida because it's become her favorite lunch spot, not only because of the salads on a tortilla (not
in a tortilla — these aren't fried; instead, they're layered with beans, your choice of meat, veggies, and cheese) but also because of the free cheese crisps for kids 5 and under. Very tasty — we loved the shredded chicken with black beans. We told the guy at the counter how good it was and that we'd be back, and he said, "Oh, well, we'd be happy to deliver lunch to you at work any time. Just call.
"Um, we work in downtown Phoenix, we told him.
"Oh, is that far?"
Turns out the guy had just hit town, fresh from Utah, where Costa Vida is HQ'd. Here's hoping Costa Vida expands its vision in metro Phoenix, and that someday soon we can take that nice guy up on his offer!
There's nothing fancy about 3 Margaritas, a lesser-known, smaller chain than the big guns in town. We stumbled upon it only recently, and were so happy to find it. From the chips to the fajitas, everything was fresh and tasty, with no big surprises, except that we hadn't discovered it earlier. It's a great family restaurant with enough fire on the menu to satisfy a hot-sauce hound, and enough milder items to tempt the toddlers.
Living so close to the border, we don't have much trouble finding a run-of-the-mill piñata. Even gringo-friendly markets like Safeway carry piñatas shaped like SpongeBob and Disney princesses. But if you want the real deal, not just some assembly-line rip-off, Sanchez and Sons is the place to go. Each piñata here is handmade, and owner Amador Sanchez says his crew can make one in any shape — just give them four days' notice.
The shop used to import their piñatas from Mexico until the Border Patrol became worried about drugs and started busting them open looking for a kind of sugar not usually found at children's birthday parties. Like so many other south-of-the-border traditions, a real piñata is a mix of both secular tradition (hence, the plethora of papier-mâché Minnie Mice and ninjas for sale at Sanchez) and Catholic symbolism.
The seven-pointed star piñata, Sanchez's specialty, is actually a part of the Mexi-Catholic Christmas celebration. The points on the star represent the devil and the seven deadly sins, the goodies inside are blessings El Diablo is hiding, and busting it open releases them. Not into Catholic guilt? Here's another tradition we can all get behind here in the desert: The Aztecs used to fill clay piñatas with water.
You'd think, here in Phoenix, a really good piñata would be easy to come by. Think again. It took us months to land our "Best Piñata" winner, and at that, the kind gentleman who sold us our red, blue and orange burro admitted he doesn't carry the "pull piñata" model. The pull piñata is popular among the toddler set — kids old enough to enjoy the pleasures of the piñata, but not big enough to wield a bat or even the sturdy wooden sticks most piñatas come with.
We must have been looking in the wrong places, because not long ago, at a joint birthday party for sisters, ages 4 and 6, we spied a super-cute pull piñata out the window, and asked the hostess (a collector of all things vintage, as well as some amazing Day of the Dead art) where she landed the pastel-trimmed piñata, complete with several telltale magenta strings hanging from the bottom.
"Party City," came the blunt reply. "Duh," we thought to ourselves. No need to traipse through Guadalupe when a perfectly good (although not particularly ethnic) pull piñata is right there — in a variety of shapes, sizes and characters — at one of the Valley's largest party store chains.
"Yeah," said the hostess, laughing, as confetti and candy rained down on the kids, who immediately began brawling over the gummy bears. "They call these the non-aggressive piñatas."
At least no one got whacked in the head with a baseball bat.
In Latin American culture, a young girl's quinceañera (her 15th birthday) marks her movement from child to woman. The first thing that delighted us about this dress shop was the coincidental (and, yes, alternately spelled) name Ofelia, which brings to mind one of Shakespeare's most tragic teenagers — Ophelia, who drowned herself for love before she was even allowed to properly date. Of course, the quinceañera is a much happier event, and Bridals by Ofelia specializes in helping teenagers make their coming-out day special.
The shop has row after row of dresses to choose from, ranging in color from the traditional pink quince dress, to bright blues, to white, another common choice. A seamstress is on-site to provide alterations in case your dream dress doesn't fit exactly how you want it to. And if you're on a budget, layaway is available. The shop can also provide help with floral arrangements and invitations. Bridals by Ofelia also provides tuxedos and less-fancy dresses to make sure all the damas and chambelanes in your quince party look (almost) as good as you do.
Planning a quinceañera is as complicated and stressful as planning a wedding. You need the dress, the venue, the flowers, the photographer — the list goes on. Fortunately for young Latinas planning their sweet 15, there's Quince Girl magazine, a sort of one-stop advice shop to guide the girls, and their stressed-out moms, through the planning process. Once a year, the mag sponsors Quince Girl Expo, where for $5, you can gain access to 75 vendors peddling gowns, tuxedos, invitations, and even pillows to help plan the perfect party. Consultants — like wedding planners for the teen girl population — are on hand to offer advice to make sure the ceremony is put together perfectly. Even more helpful, all presentations and events, including the annual fashion shows, are presented in both Spanish and English.
Ch.A.L.E. stands for Chicanos Achieving Latino Equality, and founder Leticia Almezaga certainly gets the point across with the sloganized T-shirts and accessories for sale on her Web site. The online clothing shop based in Phoenix was born around the same time as Almezaga's daughter, when she needed a way to support herself. The shop is bursting with pride
por la raza — one shirt reads "Planet of the Aztecs" (in
Planet of the Apes lettering) and another simply says "Decolonize." Other slogans are a little more light-hearted, like: "powered by frijoles." There's a special section for the Chicana mama and her
mijos — for $14, your "little brown babes" can show their pride in a "Latina" romper or a "chula" bib.
But Ch.A.L.E. is more than just an online retailer. An entire community of Phoenix Latinos has sprung up around it — especially women. The site's message boards are full of dichos (advice, gringos, advice) for new Chicana mothers, and the small company sponsors events in support of the Mexican and Mexican-American community. Almezaga is one mujer revolucionaria, and we love it.
Sorry for the unoriginal award title, but we figured the name of this fashion outpost says it all. Chicano Style comes highly recommended by none other than our own "¡Ask A Mexican!," Gustavo Arellano. "The Mexican" hails from Orange County, and, as it turns out, so do the Chicano Style peeps, who've set up their first shop outside California at our own Metrocenter. From low-rider brim hats to "Brown is Beautiful" T's to Cheech and Chong bobbleheads for the less discerning customer, you can find it in style at Chicano Style.
We stumbled across this spot while trying to avoid rush-hour traffic (Guadalupe has a speed limit of 25 miles per hour, but it's better than sitting bumper to bumper with Arizona Mills patrons.) And lucky us, because it is literally room after colorful room of imported Mexican treasure. Narrow aisles hold hundreds of glass margarita pitchers, Talavera (that brightly colored floral painting) pots and dishes of all shapes and sizes. We haven't seen a collection of imports this good since the last time we were actually in Mexico.
The Mercado's side yard also holds hundreds of outdoor necessities, from tin fountains to terra cotta planters. Our favorite details are always the small ones, though, which is why we were excited to find a collection of tiny Dia de los Muertos skeletons next to a bin of child-size maracas, and a great selection of those tiny bobblehead turtles that little kids sell on the street in Nogales.
Real treasure-hunters will be excited about the selection of tree bark paintings and authentically painted Casas Grandes pottery, which originated thousands of years ago in the northern Mexico region of Paquime.
The best thing about carved Mexican furniture is the unfinished style of the truly authentic pieces. The look has become so popular in the Southwest that every furniture store, from Sears to Levitz, offers an imitation. But the replicas are too shiny, too polished.
Not so at El Pueblito. You can run your hands over the huge pine and mahogany tables here and still feel the grainy imperfection that comes from a piece of furniture that's been carved by hand and shipped over hundreds of miles from Guadalajara to Phoenix. You can find similarly rustic Caballero trunks and unfinished clay pots here, where the pieces reflect the rich mix of Aztec and Spanish craftsmanship that defines Mexican furniture-making. The store is small but literally packed with some of the best and most authentic furniture, not to mention accessories — what casa is complete without a carved pine cross to hang over the fireplace? Owners Cesar Serrano and Mario Joya are also willing to accommodate special orders and have the connections south of the border to bring you exactly what you want.
We'll say it right now and get it out of the way: Mother knows best.
Okay, happy now, Mom?
True story: We were out and about in Scottsdale, doing deep undercover research for this year's "Best of." (Hey, it's a nasty job, but someone's gotta do it.) And we wanted to round out the "La Vida" section with a place that offers Mexican-style furnishings at affordable prices. We racked our brain and listened to that voice in our head: "Go to Razmataz." For years, Mom had been saying it. For years, we'd said, "Yeah, yeah." It's not that Mom doesn't have great taste and a well-appointed home (two, in fact), but — well, you know, she's Mom. So we tend to not listen so well. Bad habit carried over from childhood.
But we're trying to be better, in our middle age, so we called the old gal up (she'll love that line) and asked her on a date to her favorite spot. She practically glided through the aisles, gloating all the way, and we had to admit she's right. We managed to leave without anything but a long list of items we'd like for our birthday, Christmas, and Hanukkah — like the adorable, rustic, pale green bins, the red dining-room chairs (only $69 each on sale!), the huge black armoire and the gorgeous wrought-iron chandelier. You'd better get over there before Mom goes back and buys us the lot — she's that happy to have been proved right.
Actually, as she pointed out, there are several Razmataz outposts throughout the Valley, which makes the bargain-hunting that much more fun. Every store has different inventory, so you can take yourself on a scavenger hunt all over town. And when we're finally done with our "Best of" research, that's just what we intend to do. With Mom in tow.
We'd like to be jet-setting hipsters with unlimited travel budgets. Sadly, we're just working stiffs with tiny bank accounts. When we're ready for some out-of-town fun without the TSA screening, we head to Phoenix Ranch Market on Sunday for some parking lot people-watching. Enormous grills cook up delectable eats while fantastically loud local radio stations with promotional booths tempt you with contests and prizes. Furniture stores spill onto the street with couches and love seats galore, and portrait studios are all ready to take your picture. Jewelers with their wares are ready to make you sparkle, and a steady stream of families provides the best people-watching around. And that's before we're inside.
Grab some agua fresca and carne asada for sustenance before heading back to the parking lot. Cowboy hats, boots, and colorful clothes abound in an ever-changing sea of people that will make you forget you've never left AZ. Pick up a piñata for a souvenir, and no one will believe you didn't day-trip south of the border.
We knew we'd found the best Mexican neighborhood in town when we heard that Silvana Salcido Esparza lives there. After all, Chef Silvana, as she's known to fans of her Barrio Café, runs one of the best Mexican restaurants in town, on one of our most-traveled paths, 16th Street.
We asked her to share some Mexican favorites in Phoenix, and among her suggestions was this one, for "Best Mexican Neighborhood."
"All you have to do is look around to see that this little corner of Phoenix is a mecca of Mexico City and Oaxaca transplants," Silvana tells us. She points to Mini Mercado Oaxaca, and Los Reyes de la Torta as great stops for authentic Oaxacan specialties and Mexican sandwiches, respectively, and also points to the local Food City's tortilla factory and bakery as must-dos. Beyond that, parts of Sunnyslope (particularly Hatcher) are, indeed, a mini-Mexico, featuring strip malls packed with doctors, dentists, discotecas, and botas de vaquero.
Another of Silvana's Sunnyslope favorites is the Mexican hot dog vendors situated most evenings at Cave Creek and Mountain View, and also at Dunlap and Second Street.
"Forget south Central," she says. "For a greater sense of community, head towards the Slope. The meth-head zombies are gone and replaced by the little Oaxacans on bikes."
This upscale boutique in central Phoenix takes the prize in this category because it offers items we simply have never seen anywhere else. Sure, there's the expected mix of
loteria games, Frida Kahlo replicas and Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) figurines. But resting on a high shelf is a collection of true treasures — wood statues of some of Latin America's most-revered
santos, hand-carved and painted circa 1930. San Juan and Santa Catarina stand next to each other, 80-year-old paint barely flaking off their faces, sad eyes carved into the wood by some highly skilled hand south of the border. Nearby, the greatest find at all, a large wooden statue of the Virgen de Guadalupe completed in the early '40s, stands guard over a table of sweet-smelling candles. The statues, like everything else in the store, are priced to reflect their value, but they won't empty your wallet. Nothing's more than $300.
The little shop is also packed with clothing — everything from basic floral embroidered linen to floor-length silk skirts, including hard-to-find brands like CP Shades, Flax, and the amazing Krista Larson. Another favorite find was the skull-themed jewelry — all silver worked in Mexico and imported to the store.
Frida Kahlo remains an important Latina cultural and feminist icon for many artists (even after that awful movie they made about her a few years ago), so it makes sense that she's the namesake for this local women's artist collective. The Phoenix Fridas, as you might guess, focus their work around Mexican folk-art traditions, though they go about it in very different ways. The group works with diverse mediums — some women paint, others are jewelers or clothing designers, another works mostly on crafts like scrapbooks and knick-knacks — but they all love Frida and they identify themselves as feminists... whatever that word means these days.
These chicks love Frida to the point that they've even given each other nicknames: Smoker Frida, Tia Frida, Dead Frida, Crafty Frida, Beader Frida, Paper Frida, Frida Bill and, well, you get the point. Like a Latin-flavored sewing circle, the women share ideas, support each other and promote their art. They show occasionally at Paper Heart and their works can also be purchased through their MySpace page. In spite of the slightly misleading title, you don't have to be a Latina to join. You just have to love art and, of course, all things Frida.
The competition for Best Bigot was fierce. With the debate over illegal immigration raging, there were so many nominees: Sheriff Joe Arpaio, County Attorney Andy Thomas, Governor Janet Napolitano, State Representative Russell Pearce, white supremacist J.T. Ready. It was hard to ignore Arpaio's illegal immigrant hotline. Who can forget Thomas' novel idea of charging illegals with "conspiring" to smuggle themselves into the country (prosecutions be damned)? And Pearce has had a hard-on for Mexicans from way back. He's the one always drumming up legislation to try to keep them out, like the bill that his political ally Napolitano actually signed to prosecute businesses for hiring undocumented workers. Never mind that it won't work and, in the off chance it could, would cripple the economy of the state.
But the guy who gets the nod this year is Rusty Childress, Kia dealer and coddler of neo-Nazis like Ready. Childress hosted Ready at one of his Thursday-night hate confabs at his Kia dealership, when people who would have been attracted to the KKK in another era show up to blather about how much they hate Mexicans. And the political extremists at the meetings didn't end with Ready. Besides J.T., all but Thomas and Napolitano on the aforementioned list have showed up to entertain the rednecks at Childress Kia. It's Childress who's been the behind-the-scenes puppet-master of the anti-illegal-immigration movement here. And... he didn't have to do it to curry the political favor of the Gomers in the electorate, either. He did it because he's dedicated, apparently, to bigotry. He didn't even let the fact that he has no problem selling automobiles to Mexicans get in the way of his dedication to the cause. We say Rusty Childress is the bigot's bigot for 2007.
While it's moved away from its mostly reggaeton format in the past year, Latino Vibe still airs NYC DJ Kazzanova's reggaeton mix in a prime Saturday spot (8 to 10 p.m.), and its own on-air talent — like the lovely Jackie Morales on weekdays and Raul RocDaHouse on weekends — still sometimes spin songs by the genre's breakout stars like Daddy Yankee, Tego Calderon, Pitbull, and Don Omar. "Club 95" has just been including more palatable pop and Top 40 hip-hop in its play lists lately — Nelly Furtado, Shakira, Eminem — and that's not a bad thing, even when we get to a Ricky Martin and Fat Joe collaboration. Because this is a station that's got spicy personality and isn't afraid to play the new Akon song right before some Kumbia All-Stars. They go with what works, but they also try new things —like DJ Ruben S. hosting Latin Ladies Night at Scorch Bar every Thursday, or posting an online community calendar directing listeners to stuff like Spanish tours of the Pueblo Grande Museum and the International Hispanic Games. At 95.1, the Vibe is bilingual and bicultural, but most importantly, it's fun and frisky.
They have big brown muscles, big brown mouths and big brown boobs. But most importantly, they have big brains and huge hearts. The hot, hipster crew from "El Break" is the best shot in the arm of political activism for the local Latino community since Chicanos por la Causa. This is a modern day crop of activistas who have their own rough-around-the edges/cutting-edge AM radio show on Sundays at La Buena Onda 1190. Luis Avila, Nuvia Enriquez, Laura Suarez, Obed Hurtado and others aren't afraid to launch a hunger strike to support the DREAM Act one week, and then throw a blow-out rock en español bash the next, with free-flowing spiked horchata. You can catch their show on Sundays. "El Break" is mainly in Spanish, but even if you are español-challenged, you'll get the vibe and drift from this smart, smart band of radio bandidos.
Albert Lineses III, better known as DJ AL3, has been dedicated to building a better Latin nightclub community since he began spinning mixes around the Valley in the early '90s. With the establishment of Ritmo Latino Entertainment in 2005, AL3 created an enterprise "for Latinos, by Latinos," which has grown to include the hottest weekend Latin dance nights in town. There's Caliente Chica (Fridays) at El Matador and Ritmo Saturdays at Coach & Willie's (both hosted by AL3). The latter night touts itself as a Rocky Point-style party, and with around 800 hot chicas and macho men packing the place, it's hard to argue against that. There's also Climax Sundays at Baby Dolls, where DJ Ruhkas takes over the boards while beautiful babes shake their buns. And while the Ritmo Latino DJs (including AL3) lay the Latin music on heavy, they don't stick to just one style; they're as likely to drop some old school Madonna or a new Sean Paul track as they are Gloria Estefan and reggaeton. But one of the coolest aspects of RLE is its Web site, which offers a slew of downloadable mixes in genres from hip-hop to R&B to house and, of course, Latin.
Her cousin Linda ain't got nothing on her. Marisa Ronstadt is making a name for herself in the music world. After spending years touring locally in Phoenix with different groups including Los Amigos, Pazport, and Straight Up, Ronstadt is starting to get recognized in La-La Land. The South Mountain High graduate grew up rooted by the rock and mariachi sounds of the music in her famous family, while being influenced by '80s pop, old school, and R&B.
She can sing it all. And she's really purty, too. The wildly popular band Quetzal took notice of this homegirl's big pipes and hooked her up with the group Monte Carlo 76, where Ronstadt now sings lead. Monte Carlo 76 will release their new album, Marisela, early next year and then, Ronstadt says, they'll hit the road for a tour.
And we might as well start the rumor mill early. The chisme from Marisa is that the Ronstadt family, led by Linda, could/maybe/might begin work on a project together soon and very soon. We just hope Marisa and the fam call it Brown Bayou. Or Canciones de mi Food City.
Mariachis at a Mexican food restaurant? Typical, right? The crooners at Garcia's Las Avenidas are anything but. Walk into this old-school Mexican restaurant on a Saturday night and you will hear the bittersweet harmonies of a live mariachi band wafting through the building. Starting at 6 p.m., the band makes the rounds, serenading tables that make requests. The family-owned restaurant serves some of the best Mexican food in town with a friendly, casual atmosphere. Pick your favorite dish — no matter what it is, you'll be satisfied — and enjoy the sweet sounds. Just like the food, the band is always amazing. Their perfectly tuned violins, guitars, viheula, and guitarrón pair with the beautifully harmonized voices to belt romantic Spanish lyrics of love and loss. Despite our best efforts to keep cool, we've definitely felt our skin prickle with chills on a number of occasions. And while it's possible to enjoy them from afar, it's definitely worth it to flag them to your table. They don't just churn and burn the tunes, it's an up-close, impassioned serenade. The repertoire is vast and we've never seen a request turned down. Whether it's the classic heartbreaker "El Son de la Negra" or the gringo favorite "La Bamba," there's no need to worry about repetition — we've never heard the same song twice. With the killer mariachi music, authentic food, stellar service and cozy atmosphere, you'll be ay-ay-aying before you know it.
To paraphrase the moniker of the great James Brown, Andy Herrera (a.k.a. Big Latin) is the hardest-working DJ in the Valley's Latin music scene. When he isn't busy handling promotions for locally owned label Nastyboy Records or bringing big name acts like DJ Kane to town, the stout spinster has spent the past five years working the wheels of steel at dope danceterias all around the PHX. Every Thursday, you can find Herrera over at Henry Jack's Place in Avondale dropping hip-hop and reggaeton, while on Fridays, he's working the turntables at Macayo's on Central, spinning Latin and hip-hop. To top it off, the Hispanic mixmaster serves up plenty of merengue, bachata, and reggaeton at Fuego Bar & Grill in Tolleson. Don't believe our hype? Peep Big Latin's MySpace page for proof of his work ethic, as well as pics of him posing with Def Jam impresario Russell Simmons and even Governor Janet Napolitano (we hear the guv's a big reggaeton fan).
Daddy Yankee gets some serious play on Friday nights at Henry Jack's Place, as does Don Omar, Pitbull, N.O.R.E., and Hector El Father. No, playa-hater, we ain't firing off a list of Latin Lotharios who've been hooking up at this Avondale nightspot. It's a rockin' rundown of the superstar reggaeton artists whose hits are getting spun on the turntables of resident DJ 2Swift. While the weekly dance fiesta usually starts off with the spinster warming up a throng of twentysomething barrio boys and babes with a combination of cumbias and old-school hip-hop, it only whets their appetites for a main course of reggaeton, as 2Swift slings up two straight hours of the popular Puerto Rican-born hybrid of reggae and dancehall with Latin hip-hop, from midnight until the joint closes. Occasionally, he's joined on the decks by fellow reggaeton mixmasters Luis Boy and DJ Ray, who help work the packed crowd into a frenetic fervor as they shake their moneymakers to jams like Ivy Queen's "Libertad" until last call.
Though the dilapidated exterior of Paco Paco makes it look as if it's fit for demolition, inside is a fiery Latin disco-dive that lures in P-Town peeps from across the GLBT spectrum every Friday because of its hot beats, stiff drinks, and unpretentious atmosphere. Bare-chested boys, luscious lesbians, transgender types, and other members of the swishy set reign supreme on a dance floor drenched in multicolored lights while DJ spins circuit music, as well as high-energy Latin house, electro, trance, cumbias, and other dance hits en español. Drag artist Sandra performs her fabbo lip-synched renditions of pop hits, and both ladies and trannies can get in free before 11 p.m. So don't bother waiting in line to get into that other gay Latin joint, when you can always work the scene at Paco Paco.
Don't try ordering an apple-tini here. It's a gay bar, but not that kind. No fancy drinks, electronica or twinky go-go boys. At Club Zarape, the standard swill is a can of Tecate beer with a lime wedge and salt packet on top. The place, which looks like the piñata aisle at Food City with all the colored paper and Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling, fills up on the weekends with norteño-style vaqueros who look like they are more ready to rope a steer than each other. But these men, and some leather-booted women, are here to dance the night away to salsa and rock en español and, of course, norteño, vaquero cowboy music. Big belt buckle to big belt buckle. Gaycowboycentral.com even lists the joint. Put on your boots and spurs and don't be surprised if you run into your tio or tata making the dance-floor rounds with a caballero named Miguel.
It's not necessarily a cholo bar, but it may as well be with all the tank tops, spiky crew cuts and sagging-pantalones vaqueros at this joint. The Cash Inn is one of the best va-queer-o/a friendly bars in town. It's country, but to be cool, you don't have to be. While some girls who like girls can be spotted two-stepping in a little Saba's Western wear, others come dressed in their finest GAP or Buffalo Exchange haberdashery. The DJ spins a fun mix of Top 40, old school and country. The amazing thing is that the music is loud, but you can still carry on a conversation on and off the dance floor. No bar in the world has managed to accomplish that feat until now. The gals at the bar always make sure your designated driver gets extra cherries in his/her Diet Coke. And when all is said and done, if you aren't getting extra cherries at a fab lezzie hang-out . . . well, you know. But do Cash Inn on this one.
While the perpetual chaos of light-rail construction has snarled downtown Phoenix, you'll definitely want to brave the bulldozers and barricades choking Copper Square to get a heaping helping of Hispanic hotness and Latin luxury at the Sky Lounge.
This bilevel beat emporium is like a Baskin-Robbins of Latin dance music, with multiple flavors of sweet and sultry sounds blasting from both floors nearly every night of the week. Thursdays feature DJ Tsunami spinning the latest in Latin-laced hip-hop, pop, and dance. If you're more in the mood to shake your rump on Fridays, there's a dope doubleheader of salsa, merengue, and bachata on the ground floor, with pop and rock en español upstairs, as well as buxom, bikini-wearing go-go dancers throughout the joint.
Weekends bring reggaeton, R&B, and hip-hop on Saturdays, while Sundays offer DJs Kyko and Daffy. Be sure to bring some water, because you're sure to sweat up a storm.
Everything about Rain is cool. Whether it's the front door surrounded in electric-blue lighting, a pair of cerulean-colored bubble columns near the dance floor, monsoon-themed video projections on the walls, or a couple of twisted metal dance cages that shoot jets of fog every 15 minutes, this new Scottsdale nightspot in the Papago Plaza showers us with swank. In fact, the place seems like a complete departure in both style and substance from the former CBNC that used to occupy its space, and has been a hit with Hispanic hipsters on the weekends. While R&B dominates on Thursdays and the hip-hop flows on Friday night, Saturdays belong to the Latino crowd as turntablist DJ Duran will spin plenty of hits en español on the ones and twos, including cumbias, reggaeton, merengue, bachata, and salsa, while hundreds of barrio babes and boys who make up a majority of the crowd shake their rumps. The club has also presented a number of concerts by blockbuster Latino musicians, including Ely Guerra and Motel y Lu. So if you're rocking the bilingual vibe here in P-Town, your forecast might call for a little Rain.
This upscale nightclub caters to a mostly Latino/a clientele, but everyone's welcome. Formerly the Rockin' Horse Saloon, Club Tropicana is a complete departure from the biker/cowboy vibe of RHS. The music is mostly a mash-up of salsa and merengue, whether the tunes are coming from a live band like the Pan Americana Salsa & Merengue Orchestra, or DJs like Pooya, Roberto, and Shy. The club's busiest nights are Fridays and Saturdays, when lines wind down the street and the parking lot is packed with low-riders and caballeros. Newbies may be nervous about going in, but the atmosphere is friendly — someone is probably going to ask you to dance, and if you don't know how to dance, someone will probably teach you.
This ain't no Hyundai, baby. The Cadillac is a monstrous witch's brew that rivals a properly constructed Long Island iced tea for pure liver-pummeling power. It's also — quite shockingly — as good as or better than anything we've come across in the countless Mexican cantinas we've frequented over the years. And it's made by... the British? Except when it comes to giving up property — India, Northern Ireland — the English are a generous lot, and the barkeeps at this venerable Brit pub don't skimp on the Grand Marnier or the tequila (it's house, but you can upgrade for a pound or two). But beware: Combine the British munificence with the thing's sublime taste and you might end up kissin' some concrete by last call.
We used to sneer at those amateurs who insisted on making this tequila-and-lime confection take a pass through the blender. The best margaritas, we'd insist, are always on the rocks. Then we were introduced to the Sixth Street Margarita at the cavernous, comfortably dim Tempe franchise of this laid-back chain. Okay, so they're talking about the Sixth Street in Austin, not Tempe, but we don't care. Z'Tejas started in Texas, but is now headquartered in Scottsdale, and in any case, there's no topping the ice-smooth agave taste — and the wallop that leaves us no choice but to call a cab. And once we've decided not to drive, well, why not have another? Oh, hey, and make ours the one spiked with Chambord.
As we began to see hibiscus pop up as a trendy ingredient in hot spots from San Francisco to New York City, we were reminded of where we saw it first: Mucho Gusto. This cute Tempe cafe has consistently great specialty margaritas, none of them better than one infused with hibiscus. We especially like it in the drink's frozen incarnation. The flower's tropical lushness is good on ice, but heaven in a blend.
Sitting in the patio of this gorgeous old hacienda, surrounded by twinkling lights and leafy trees, feels something like visiting the home of an old friend with excellent taste — and a huge collection of premium tequilas. The restaurant's bar, or "margaritas tequileria," features 100 agave distillations, and trust us: We have yet to try one that doesn't go down with a blissful shudder. Not into shots? Try the margarita with herradura blanco. Now that's a kick.
