Shopping & Services

Chocoholics, take note: The shop just moved from Scottsdale to Phoenix, where it reopens in early October.

At first, you try to be rational. (There are new gelato places cropping up all over town. I can find gelato a lot closer to home.)

Then, some healthy skepticism kicks in. (What's all the fuss? How can it really be that good?)

Pretty soon, you admit that you're curious. (Man, my friends won't shut up about Arlecchino. I think I need to try it.)

You educate yourself. (Wow. Arlecchino's owner trained with a gelato master in Italy, and he makes every pan of gelato from scratch...) Next, you do some soul-searching. (Chocolate, pistachio, or strawberry?

Finally, you take a leap of faith, and dig in. Within a bite or two, the potent flavors and dense, creamy texture overwhelm your taste buds. You've never tasted gelato this good anywhere, ever. It's so delicious, it's almost hard to explain the sensation. Like fireworks, or ecstasy, or... (Heaven!)

A friend we trust to the ends of the earth (as far as food and fashion are concerned, at least) told us about this place, which serves the closest thing to Pinkberry yogurt this side of Santa Monica. What? You haven't heard of Pinkberry? Where have you been, darling? Apparently, frozen yogurt — that sweet, allegedly low/no-fat staple of the '80s — is alive and well and thriving in L.A., in the form of a chain that takes a Korean brand of frozen yogurt and tops it with piles of fresh fruit.

When our friend told us Seven Sisters was selling a competing Korean brand (Red Mango), we got in the car and drove for-ever to get us some. And let us tell you, it's worth it, sister. This is not your high school pal's yogurt. It's tangy and sweet, with the flavor of really good plain yogurt. (They were out of the green tea variety the day we visited.) And it's so thick we'd swear it was full-fat, but the lady behind the counter swears: "fat-free."

Seven Sisters also sells a variety of hand-dipped chocolates, including some yummy-looking chocolate-dipped Rice Krispies treats, but we weren't even tempted. Just give us a vat of that yogurt, and we'll die happy.

Thankfully, Sweet Pea recently introduced a lunch menu, including healthy, seasonal salads (no matter what they're fixing, the owners make it fresh and natural) so we won't feel so guilty about that flourless chocolate cake for dessert. One s'mores tart and we promise, we're heading back to the gym.

Ah, but we digress. This is all about the rugelach, the mondel bread, the doughy hamantaschen with thick, sweet poppyseed filling. Karsh's has it all, along with challah and bagels. The place is even kosher — blessed-by-a-rabbi-kosher — so you can indulge without Jewish guilt. The day we were there, we didn't notice chocolate babka, but oy vey, we're in Phoenix. You can't have everything.

Now, we love the look of fondant, and there are some local cake purveyors who do it so well, they put M.S. to shame. But have you ever tried to bite into a hunk of the stuff? Gross. It tastes like grout. (Well, we imagine it does. We've never actually tasted construction supplies.)

Give us Cathy's cake any time. The frosting is whipped and sweet, and you don't have to get a shot of rum in the cake — although we highly recommend it. (The amaretto version's not bad, either, and you teetotalers can get it alcohol-free.) Festooned with shimmery ribbons, we'd put Cathy's cakes up against Martha's any old day. Just let us eat cake!

You don't want to eat. After nine months, you want to drink. In lieu of a big bottle of Three Olives vodka (grape flavor, please), we'll take one of those "cakes" they make at Babycakes of Scottsdale. These smart folks obviously understand the challenges of new mothers: All you really need, to go with your cocktail, is a crapload of blankets, onesies and socks, since Junior will go through a basket of laundry faster than you can say, "Make mine a double!" And because you'll be weepy (after catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror), your own personal "babycake" will distract you, constructed of useful baby accessories but covered with flowers and jewels, festooned to look just like that cake you wouldn't dare touch a bite of. Ah, but a girl can dream. And a good visual never hurts.

No, really, we mean it. Have you been to the mall lately, walked by a certain shop that offers your 6-year-old the chance to romp like Christina and Britney, complete with long wig, platforms and micro-mini? And the makeup? Oh, it's enough to make us want to home school. (Well, not quite.)

But we don't want to push Annabelle toward a nunnery, either. If we've learned one thing, it's that as soon as you forbid your kid another M&M, you've created a chocoholic.

What's a mom to do? Head to Lollilocks, our favorite new kiddy salon. The kid haircut concept is nothing new, and those other spots are cute, sure. The kids can watch videos so their bangs won't come out too crooked, but we needed a little pizzazz. That's where the "Spa Buddies" package comes in. For just a little too much money, Annabelle and Kate got an afternoon of pampering — a seat in a teeny-tiny hot pink spa chair, feet soaked, toes painted, flower decal applied. Same for the fingers. The girls were delighted, and we all loved the candy-themed décor, the yummy line of marshmallow- and orange-scented lotions and bath products, the cute hair accessories.

The girls felt like princesses, we were out of there for under $50, and no one looked like a streetwalker.

But before you beat feet to the closest pet store and purchase your own tiny tail-wagger, we recommend perusing the bundles of spastic joy available through Arizona Puppies. Unlike many of the so-called "puppy mills" stationed in malls throughout the Valley, this cooperative of "ethical toy dog breeders" ensures the AKC-certified Chihuahuas they're selling are completely disease free and are bred in a humane manner. Their selection is also quite staggering, offering a variety of different Chihuahua breeds and sizes, including longhairs, shorthairs, deer types, appleheads, and teacups. (A sister site, www.aztoydogs.com, offers such other breeds as Pomeranians, Shih Tzus, and Papillons).

Pricing is a little steep, starting at $500 and going as high as $1,650. But, hey, no one said living the sweet life was gonna be cheap.

Dizon, daughter of a Filipino tailor, moved to Phoenix with her family when she was 5. After graduating from Phoenix College's fashion-design program, it's been nothing but award after award for Dizon, culminating in 2006 with a couple of fashionista biggies: Designer of the Year honors from both the Arizona Fashion Foundation and LabelHorde. While Jenny's still something of a regional phenomenon, don't be shocked when you see her beguiling creations bust a move onto the national scene. We think you'll be delightfully surprised. Well, most of you.

On one wall of the 10,000-square-foot orange-and-cream themed erotic emporium read the store's motto, "Relax... it's only sex." And while Flynt signed books and body parts, it was clear that the reason folks were so enthused was that Flynt had brought a touch of Hollywood decadence to Sand Land, and made that decadence as uncontroversial as an ice cream parlor, though no less titillating in the process. Even more than the magazines and the books that Flynt's Hustler empire mass-produces, the Hustler Hollywood stores are his ultimate triumph over America's prudes. Somewhere, Jerry Falwell's 300-pound corpse is rolling over. Of this, you can be sure.

But think twice before putting that thing in your pocket. You wouldn't want to risk a misfire.

Yeah, yeah, we've been on that Target high, too. And so have you, and you, and you, and you — and we know that because last week on the playground, six little girls were all wearing the same Circo dress. Nothing wrong with that, but sometimes — like on The First Day of School, or Picture Day, or a major national holiday — we like to break away and dress our kid in something that didn't cost less than $5.99. And for those occasions, you can find us in our version of hog heaven, This Little Piggy Wore Cotton.

The shop features all the high-end regulars, like Baby Lulu, but our favorite items come from the Piggy's own collection: Comfy cotton items in everything from dresses to itty-bitty boxer shorts (they even make those in adult sizes), printed with patterns that change seasonally. Our current favorite is the crazy-looking Chinese dragon on a bright turquoise background. We're also partial to the pink toile (not sure that pattern comes in boxers).

You can also find a wonderful variety of accessories, books and other must-haves — all stuff that they don't sell at Target, not even in a knock-off. Not yet, anyway.

These are just some of the items you'll find at the Collectively Operated Local Artists Boutique (C.O.L.A.B.). More than a dozen artists communally run the space dedicated to serving the community with handmade fashions and accessories for men, women and children. Approximately 95 percent of the hippie-dippy goods are handmade by local designers such as Sticker Club Girl Fashions and Spraygraphic Apparel. Since there's no middle man or woman, those earrings, lingerie and hats are sold to the public at very affordable prices. The space also features monthly First Friday exhibits with an emphasis on textile design.

Not that anyone's going to be looking around your house, with the rear view you'll be offering.

Suede soles and heel height seem to be the most important factors for the serious dancer, and if you mean business, you're in luck here. From casual "social dancers" to the most competitive of the ballroom crowd, folks are heading to this Tempe store for their extensive selection.

We've gotta warn you, this place isn't easy to find. After more than three years at this location, Great American still doesn't have a sign over its door (evidently, it doesn't need one). Sandwiched between a nail salon and a wedding shop in this nondescript (formerly Michael's) plaza, you will find only a small sign on the door as a welcome.

Inside, you'll know you're in the right place: There are walls of men's and women's styles to choose from — from the sensible black "practice shoe" to full on blinged-out sandals. Anything you don't find can be special-ordered. You'd better really wanna swing and salsa, though, as the average price runs $140 a pair (they do have some clearance styles). Totally worth the price tag, the die-hards tell us.

Owner Emily Blanche has hit on several keys to success in the resale world: location, inventory and price. Unlike some other vintage shops we were really rooting for (rest in peace, La Dolce Vintage), Gold Lion's actually got a good, accessible location in central Phoenix. And on top of that, once you get into the place, it's tough to leave. The selection is just that good. It's a relatively small space, but it's easy to waste an hour or so in the store playing dress- up with the hundreds of sundresses, heels, belts and purses, as well as the random kitsch floating around, like a brass unicorn statue we spotted recently. The inventory leans mostly toward '60s, '70s and '80s (yes, some '80s items are vintage now... even though we can remember them from the first time around), and best of all, Blanche has done an awesome job at making sure the store is stocked with a variety of sizes, not an easy thing to do in the vintage biz. The shop turns a year old in January — here's hoping Blanche makes it.

Our only disappointment is that Small Change refuses all clothing from Target. Old Navy, too. And even the good stuff we had, they gave back — too worn. That's okay, we don't blame them. We know we're not worthy. Just let us keep shopping there, okay?

The idea behind the do-it-yourself workshops comes from artist Wendy Tremayne, who wants communities to explore the reuse of recycled clothing and stop textile waste.

It's like the Build-A-Bear workshop fucked a Mongolian BBQ grill and then inbred with a Christmas Cookie Party and a White Elephant gift exchange — then spawned all-fabric offspring. And we love it.

Then we scurry out the door and, heading north, stop off at Brandeis University Bookstore (3343 North Seventh Avenue), where we always find at least one slim volume to add to our personal library. Continuing up the street, we crash our favorite thrift shop, Flo's on 7th (4116 North Seventh Avenue), just north of Indian School, where we load up on housewares (last time, our big score was a dozen Mikasa crystal goblets and a set of Norleans china, for which we paid next to nothing; thank you, Flo!). A mad dash into Rust and Roses (4200 North Seventh Avenue) and Retro Redux (4303 North Seventh Avenue) to make sure they don't have that elusive teacart we've been searching for since the 1980s (and maybe, like last time, to add to our collection of tiki vases) precedes a leisurely stroll through Home Again, where we're bound to find some big honking piece of gorgeousness that will necessitate our shifting every stick of furniture back home to make room for it.

Then we pop in to Hollywood Regency (right around the corner at 708 West Montecito), because owner Heidi Owens has the exact same taste that we do, and we always end up maxing out our credit card there because, well, we want to own everything in her store. A quick peek into Qcumberz (4429 North Seventh Avenue) and Figs (4501 North Seventh Avenue), where we get our shabby-chic fix for the day, and we wind up our afternoon exhausted but happy at White Dove Thrift (5035 North Seventh Avenue), where we always score something (most recently, a giant punch bowl set for $18 and a box of funky silver napkin rings for five bucks). Who needs Tanqueray when there's a whole stretch of city filled with so many intoxicating, happy-making bargains?

Of course, digging and frequent scouting trips are mandatory. Or maybe that's our Hobby Lobby addiction talking. The folks at Hobby Lobby must understand the depth of this illness, and have done their part by providing impossibly small shopping carts in which to haul your plunder. Despite this minor obstacle, you can decorate entire rooms of your house for less than the cost of a tank of gas and, if you are old enough to remember Pic-N-Save, you might just think you've died and gone to bargain heaven.

We weren't disappointed. Crammed floor to ceiling with amazing tchotchkes, Curiouser and Curiouser turned out to be like Grandma's attic, if Grandma were a super-hip connoisseur of cool junk and went thrift-shopping every day in search of it. Among this mother lode of marvelous fun, we spotted a Fab '50s turquoise ice crusher, a tidy lineup of old soda bottles, and enough vintage barware to open up four swanky saloons. Everything here is organized based on where it might live once you get it home, so all the kitchen stuff (like the Vernonware highball set we knew we had to have) is displayed in one spot, while all the old toys are wedged into a sort of clever nursery display in a room off to the side. Who needs an Internet auction when one can visit such cool stuff in person? We don't, not now that we've gotten Curiouser and Curiouser.

The new, improved Antique Market has brought together your favorite vendors from Central Antiques and Antique Gallery and combined them with nearly all of the booths and sellers from Market's former location in a 10,000-square foot colossus of antiquing pleasure. Row upon row of gleaming glass cases are augmented by a separate high-end furniture gallery, a "shabby chic room" full of gently distressed décor, and more than 100 dealers offering neat old clocks and lamps and tables and every conceivable item we admired at each of our former favorite shopping havens. This place is a one-stop shop of the Valley's best antique malls, all wrapped up in one great location!

Located in one of those cool strips that used to house a bank or something, just a block or so north of one of our long-gone favorite Scottsdale hangs, the Safari Resort, you have to drive 'round back to enter Haus. The first time we stopped by, we were struck by how spacious and airy the store is, even though it's jam-packed with modern design, most notably by Jonathan Adler, the darling of the midcent set. Adler himself actually made an appearance at this Haus, not long ago. We're sure the crowds went so wild they had to partake from one of his signature striped ceramic jars, whimsically marked PROZAC. (Adler's actually penned a book called My Prescription for Anti-Depressive Living.)

For us, a trip to Haus is as good a mood elevator as any, 'til we get our credit card bill.

Apologies to Kermit, but truer words were never spoken. (Ribbeted?) We look around the house and think, "Where to begin?" We can barely keep up with the laundry, much less the movement that tells us to use all natural products and rid our lives of plastic bottles. (As if.) That's why we're so glad we found a.k.a. green, a place where, if so inclined (and financially endowed), we could retrofit our house with enviro-friendly flooring, tile and other green products, and get all sorts of advice on how to do it. We think at this point we'd need to raze our 1940s home to truly fit the latest trend — starting from scratch, at the pesticide-laced foundation. (Those damn termites.) And if we ever do that, we'll know where to go.

We found Jacuzzi tubs for less than $500, laminate flooring for 88 cents a foot and all kinds of beautiful floor tile that's nearly being given away if you hunt and peck through the selection stacked up in the parking lot. Some of the items are regular stock and the deals on that merchandise were only so-so, but this is the first place we'd venture out to if needing a new door or front porch light fixture.

Check out the clearance tables; inventory shifts from day to day. The store is well-organized and clean, and the staff is very helpful, not only in answering questions but with loading your car with your purchase.

Watch out, though — upgrading your home can become addictive and with the prices here, you could walk in wanting a new faucet and end up with a whole new bathroom. Now if they just offered cheap labor to take home with the supplies, we'd be happier than Bob Vila at a World of Screwdrivers convention.

This north Phoenix skin-schlepping emporium, which has operated at various Valley locations since the late '40s, has also transformed many a member of the family Ursidae into lifelike trophies over the years, including grizzlies, brown bears, and Kodiaks.

One example of their artistry was a particularly fearsome-looking Arizona black bear that became a terrifying hunter's trophy placed on a makeshift rock setting. It's so lifelike we're a little scared it could come back alive at any moment and take a swipe at us like some psychotic version of Gentle Ben.

It's located in the Strip Mall Time Forgot — probably not for long, given the hipster encroachment from the north (Postino, et al.) and east (The Vig). There's a drugstore a friend refers to as That Scary Drugstore and Secret Post Office (it's true, there's a post office in the back, very old-school) and a coffee shop actually called The Coffee Lady, who got pushed out at 40th and Campbell when La Grande Orange set up shop.

Okay, back to dolls and bears — and surprises. We had come to love this shop even before the aforementioned 5-year-old happened last Christmas to ask the mall Santa for "a bear with a suitcase with clothes from other countries." (Don't ever let your kid see a toy catalogue, unless you intend to earmark and save it.)

We were completely stumped. No amount of Internet research yielded an answer. In a panic, we called Dolls Bears, and — of course — the proprietor, Mark Besler, had the answer. "Yes, that's Muffy Vander Bear," he said. "And that ensemble would run you several hundred dollars; it's from FAO Schwartz." He waited patiently for us to put ourselves back together, then said, simply, "Come in. I'll take care of you."

That he did. He sold us Muffy and several sets of clothing, for well under $100, advising that we find a little suitcase elsewhere. (We scored one at Cost Plus.) Our kindergartener was thrilled, and so were we.

Who knew? Those creepy dolls staring at us have the right to have an attitude. Dolls Bears & Surprises sells high end collectible dolls including Madame Alexander, Effanbee and Goetz, as well as our beloved Muffy. And, it turns out, Mark Besler's not just a salesman, he's an artist. There's a whole page on his Web site showcasing the glass eyes he puts in collectible dolls, and more than once we've watched him repair an antique teddy bear. We hope he's in business for a long time — Muffy is already looking a little the worse for wear.

On a recent visit, we noticed a sign in the window warning that no new repairs will be taken 'til 2008. Hang in there, Muffy.

In between numerous prototypes and double-sized display models of his company's toys hang different awards he's received from Wizard magazine and the Comic Buyer's Guide, as well as clippings from Variety about himself. McFarlane is also a fan of both rock and jocks, so photos of the Spawn creator with folks like Yankees slugger Jason Giambi and Kiss are mixed with sports memorabilia and signed guitars. McFarlane just opened a second store over in the Westgate City Center in Glendale, and while it'll be more of a retail-type deal, we're hoping he'll be showing off more of his personal goodies.

There's also a huge selection of outdoor toys like cool pirate-themed kites and a sit-on skateboard for ages 3-16. The best part? Kidstop's "toy specialists" are brimming with toy-buying advice for parents and grandparents, rather than pointing them towards Aisle 5's video games with a blank look like the pizza-faced teens do at the big box toy stores.

Too obvious? Oh, okay, party-pooper (hey, that's not a bad idea for a onesie message, either!), check out the wide variety of super-soft, super-luxurious (read: super-pricey; but hey, baby's worth it) chenille blankets (our favorite brand is Little Giraffe), or a set of custom burp cloths in trendy chocolate brown. A few years ago, our favorite baby gift to give was a set of multi-hued socks, all decked out to look like little Mary Janes. We still love 'em, but we noticed Petite Chateau sells the next big thing, a set designed to look like itty-bitty tennies. Almost as cute as baby herself!

We're just saying, it's cool to stay yourself — yeah, you may have to give up the Marlboro Lights and the G&Ts, but there's no reason to relinquish your style to Captain Kangaroo. If a rocking horse won't knock her socks off, try the version offered at Garage: a pink and purple motorcycle. From the vintage-looking Bomb Pop T to the rhinestoned pacifiers to the candy-filled kaleidoscopes, every item in the shop is creative and irresistible and just a little edgy, with clothing lines including Diaper Dude, Space Baby, Nolita Pocket, and Marc Jacobs' line, "Little Marc." We loved the service, too.

When we admired some tiny socks, and asked if they made them for our kindergartener, owner Katie Wilson said she didn't carry them, but then insisted on calling another kiddy boutique to see if they did. We were in love.

This little boutique has clothes and gifts so stylish, you'll be wishing they made them in your size — and maybe you'll even consider popping a kid out yourself, just for the schwag.

Avoid the birthday blues with Learning Express. Yes, it's a big national chain, which is exactly why we're recommending it. Do you really want to drive across town to buy your fifth birthday gift of the month, or would you rather shop at one of Learning Express' four convenient Valley locations?

We're never disappointed here: The selection includes Groovy Girls dolls, Klutz art books and those elusive Webkins. Per the name, there are plenty of science experiments and other IQ-building projects, but we've found plenty of guilty pleasures, like a cute pink poodle in a purse and those charms you poke through the holes in the kids' Crocs.

You'll still have to deal with the post-party sugar rush, but at least with Learning Express, the gift is in the bag.

Too bad for them that the gnarliest place around these parts ain't even on Mill Avenue at all, but rather an unpretentious strip mall at Ash Avenue and University Drive.

This countercultural complex of cool boasts an array of independently owned alt-friendly business offering satisfaction for all your senses. Pick up the latest issues of X-Men and Spider-Man at Ash Avenue Comics & Books, followed by a search through the bins of Eastside Records for used vinyl, or a hunt for secondhand chic at the Buffalo Exchange. If you're hungry, Otto's Pizza has plenty of fresh slices and subs for noshing, and El Pollo Supremo serves up inexpensive dishes of delicious mesquite charbroiled chicken and sirloin strips with warm corn tortillas. Wet Paint Art Supply has plenty of pigment for artistic types, while the Headquarters has all your... er, tobacco-smoking supplies, HTC has a piercing studio on the premises, and Cowtown Skateboard features equipment fit for tricking.

To quote Wet Paint owner Jesika Jordan, "Fuck Mill Avenue, Ash Avenue's where it's at." Word.

Unless you forget to return your items on time, the price is right. So forget the old Chevy Chase flick or Animal House for the umpteenth time, and give La Dolce Vita or The Rules of the Game a gander, courtesy of one of our greatest institutions, the public library.

Prices range from $3 to $10 on most single discs from a full range of musical styles. We snagged a CD reissue of Dean Martin's Christmas with Dino, the new Skinny Puppy, and a collection of Sesame Street songs covered by rock singers, all for less than $20. Listening stations make for no-risk shopping, and free Wi-Fi access means that, while we're scouting out that B-52's box set, we won't have to miss a single incoming e-mail.

We usually sneak over to the DVD and special-purchase collectible music sections while we're at Bookmans, because they, too, are overflowing with amazing finds at incredible prices. Probably, we should take advantage of Bookmans' generous trade-in policy by swapping some of our less-favorite CDs, but with prices like these, we'd just as soon hand over a handful of dimes for a lot of cool music.

Looking for a quadraphonic, 180-gram vinyl pressing of Johnny Cash Sings Hank Williams for your cowboy cousin? It's here. Gotta get that double-LP picture-disc import of Iron Maiden's Matter of Life and Death for your metalhead man? They've got it.

Need a copy of ex-model Twiggy's 1971 LP The Boy Friend for, uh, some reason? They've got that, too.

Memory Lane's stock is 100,000 records strong, encompassing every genre, including sports and punk (big cred for carrying an Italian import picture-disc of influential U.K. hardcore punks Discharge's 1981 Never Again EP). But discerning collectors will really appreciate the store's grading system, which is informed and accurate, unlike many sellers on eBay.

Memory Lane's grade scale for the condition of its records ranges from G ("Good," which means there is audible damage to the record) to M ("Mint," which means the record is still factory-sealed), and the grades are honest — if there's a tear or a promo stamp on the cover, they say so.

And the prices can be criminally low ($14 for a mint condition, German import of Led Zeppelin's In Through the Out Door; $15 for a mint condition, red vinyl Italian import of garage greats the 13th Floor Elevators' Easter Everywhere).

With its comprehensive stock, detailed grading system, and bargain prices, it's no wonder Memory Lane's been in business more than 22 years.

The significantly larger space boasts an expanded inventory of vinyl goodness, including rock, pop, jazz, blues, collectibles and a section devoted to local music.

A number of Rockaway's familiar faces are happy to help you navigate the stacks of used CDs, DVDs, and video games, and when you buy any used CD, a staff member will run the disc through an industrial-strength cleaner that removes all dust and most scratches, thus guaranteeing a skip-free ride home.

Our favorite day to shop at Rock Zone? Sunday.

Vinyl Sundays features 15 percent off any record as well as $1 records slashed to a measly 75 cents.

About time, we say. Now the rest of the world knows what we've known for years.

Besides offering the best in new and used titles, our favorite bookstore has created an entire community around authors, booksellers, and readers that truly feeds the souls of those of us who care about good writing and good reading. Besides the many cozy nooks for getting to know a book before you buy it, Changing Hands offers book groups, writer's workshops, and readings from authors both local and national. Groovy gift items like candles, stationery, and book lights and the adjacent Wildflower Bread Company are two more in a long list of reasons why we're glad to keep "visit Changing Hands" on our "to do" list.

Our only complaint — again: When're you opening your downtown Phoenix location? Huh? Huh?

Did your neighbor move to Fresno with your favorite bathroom trivia book? There's probably a copy here. Do you have an in-law with an esoteric hobby or pursuit? Grab a year's worth of gifts for that weirdo — yes, the books are sorted by subject. Ooh, a Little Golden Book for the kids. (Yeah, right, the kids.) And while your selections are rung up at the counter, try to resist that rare collectible tree ornament. Just try.

Other choice collectibles include a Frank Sinatra photo signed by Ol' Blue Eyes himself during "a bleak time in his career" and a pristine dust jacket from the Photoplay film mag spotlighting Lillian Gish. There are plenty of affordable first printings and rarities available, so plop down in a comfy chair and thumb through some rare and unusual tomes.

Whew! That ought to keep us busy for a couple of months. Agreka also offers a varied line of non-polygamy fare, and it's a good bet you won't find these titles at your neighborhood Borders, either: Sleeping With Angels: A Veterinarian's Sacred Bond of Animal Companionship; Liberalitis: A Thinking Disorder Destroying America; The Blood Axe: A Story of Viking Kings; Help! There's a Tigress in the House: When a Husband Retires & Other Diversions; and Art Puzzles by Number: From Easy to Mind Bending.

The building is small and quaint and, we confess, we've never been inside. But we've driven through dozens of times, and thus have been able to focus on the quality of the coffee rather than the interior decorating. And that quality is superb. We never grow tired of our regular order — a medium cappuccino with about three-quarters of a packet of Sugar in the Raw. Vietor seems to really care that he or his worker gets the right amount of sugar — no more, no less — into our cup. That's good service.

Sportsman's, you've come a long way, baby! Of course, the place has long since gone upscale, and in recent years, its empire has expanded to three more locations. Boasting the state's biggest selection of bottles — with an astounding variety of vintages from both the world's most established Old World wine producers, as well as up-and-comers like New Zealand, Israel, and South Africa — Sportsman's can hook you up with whatever you're looking for. And don't worry if you have no clue what you're looking for — the salespeople here are more than happy to share their insights, make recommendations, and guide you to the perfect bottle. Take a seat at the bar for some tastings, and they'll be happy to get you tipsy, too.

That's changed — at least at this unexpected little find on the border of Phoenix and Scottsdale. Whoever "Pam" (of wine rack fame) is, she offers a small, but impressive selection of white and red vinos ranging from about $8 to $30, and you can't miss seeing them when you walk into the store. We recently found a nice Pinot Noir from Napa Valley for an eminently reasonable $15 that Miles — the memorable Paul Giamatti character from Sideways — would have adored. The store also sells wine "accessories," such as corkscrews, glasses, bottle plugs, and other extras. Next thing you know, this joint will be offering sushi along with the pork rinds.

Plus, there's the name of this gas-and-grub joint: It makes us chuckle every time we drop by to, err . . . pump and munch (heh). Our gutter brains go into overdrive with all manner of double-entendre as our inner 13-year-old gets in a good giggle or two. It's almost as fun as visiting Rapid In-and-Out Gas in downtown Phoenix (snicker).

First of all, the inventory is divided by regions and countries, so things are easy to find. The refrigerated section has a sizable selection of cold ones, and the list of kegs is impressive, too. And then there are the obscure brews — harder-to-find stuff like Dogfish Head 120-Minute IPA — that get the beer geeks riled up. But just because enthusiasts love Tops doesn't mean it's a pretentious place to buy brewski.

In truth, it's so laid-back here that the staff can seem indifferent at times, so you're on your own, buddy. Still, if you know what you're looking for (or are adventurous enough to take a chance on some unusual suds), Tops is the place to come.

But those days are long gone, especially now that Queen Creek Olive Mill's on the scene. Known for its extra-virgin olive oil, made from Spanish and Italian varieties grown in its own groves, the Mill also sells the best variety of olives around — plump green ones filled with garlic and soaked in vermouth, marinated in balsamic vinegar and Tuscan spices, or stuffed with different kinds of cheese, including Maytag blue, feta, and Asiago. We're especially keen on the mesquite-smoked, almond-filled olives, which we couldn't get enough of when we visited Queen Creek Olive Mill's facilities. There, visitors can sample everything that's for sale in the on-site retail shop.

If a trip to the far reaches of Maricopa County isn't in the cards for you, don't stress. You can get your fix online, or from gourmet retailers around the Valley.

That's pretty poor representation for the culinary traditions of an entire continent, dontcha think? Yeah, we do, too. Which is why we head to Lee Lee when we're in the mood to cook something more exotic than a no-brainer stir-fry.

Who knew there were so many kinds of tofu, so many varieties of noodles? And better yet, a seafood department that looks like an aquarium, with fish so fresh they're still swimming? We're not sure what's more appealing about Lee Lee — the novelty (quirky candies, snacks, and drinks), or the sheer variety of goods from Vietnam, China, Japan, Korea, India, and beyond. The à la carte foods aisle is a feast of sights and smells, while the produce section is a gorgeous sea of green, with heaps of leafy greens, sprouts, peppers, and unusual vegetables that you definitely won't find at your corner market.

Baiz has everything we need — aisle after aisle of grains, nuts, exotic spices, and an incredible selection of imported olive oil that fills a section from floor to ceiling. In the back, there's a small produce section, an impressive deli featuring halal meats and a variety of cheeses and olives, and a dazzling case full of cookies, pastries, and an assortment of goods from the in-house bakery.

By the time we circle around to the housewares and cooking utensil aisles on the far side of the room, our cart is overflowing and we're ready to empty our wallets. But if we'll make room for anything, it'll be one of the fancy-schmancy hookahs on display.

Surprise! There's a weekly farmers market in Surprise. And one in Florence. And several across the East Valley, including three in Mesa. Talk about acting locally.

It worked! A very friendly and knowledgeable lady sidled up to us, grilled us about what we had in mind, and then took over, telling us exactly what we could do for as little as $100. Sure enough, we walked out with all kinds of cool, mixed-media materials, and were even able to use them. The store also offers gift boxes, traveling cases and a variety of silver and gold chains, fairly priced. But what delighted us most was the service, which was worth its weight in gold.

The staff is happy to help you determine the sturdiest paper for origami or locate the perfect antiqued keyhole knob for your family album. See what's possible with paper in the shop's small art gallery or do-it-yourself at classes on bookbinding, paper-making or letterpress. Maybe you won't come out a master artist, but at least you'll go home with something fridge-worthy.

Scrap Happy Sisters is more than just a great place to buy the coolest scrapbooking supplies (although it's certainly that, too); it's a way of life, one involving pretty paper both hand- and machine-made; miles of swell stickers and trim; boxfuls of memory-enhancing page templates, and row upon row of beautifully bound books to paste them into. We met several kindred spirits on our first visit there — people who know the importance of finding the perfect photo corner, who warned us against using anything but the most acid-free paper for mounting old playbills, who didn't laugh when we asked for those little wax envelopes for pressing flowers in.

We're looking forward to attending one of Scrap Happy's one-hour digital scrapbooking classes, and we're counting the days 'til the next "Late, Late Nighter," the store's Friday-night bash where scrapbookers hang until the wee hours (some of the parties go 'til 2 a.m., and everything in the store is 15 percent off!), nibbling complimentary snacks and comparing glue sticks. Frankly, we're glad to have become Scrap Happy.

Others prefer an off-the-beaten-path locale where we can get a little work done in our own weird way. In this case, we mean setting up shop (and laptop) in a corner of a popular north Phoenix restaurant that's one part coffee shop, one part health cafe — observing the world of pretty people in spandex, business types in suits, young mothers with their little ones, and the occasional big-time athlete hanging out.

The friendly folks who work the spacious room at Soma don't give a hoot if you take up space for hours on end, sipping on an iced tea as you "craft" another masterpiece at the keyboard (or just try to get the damn thing done). In fact, Soma's staffers embrace the restaurant's regulars, both figuratively and (if you're lucky) literally. And here's another thing we've seen for ourselves: We'd bet as many deals of all kinds get brokered at this eatery as anywhere around.

We burned rubber, getting in line. And it was there we learned all about Dutch Bros. Coffee, a chain of coffee shops based in the Pacific Northwest. Sound familiar? Not quite — these folks are from Oregon (well, they're actually Dutch, but they started the company in a tiny town called Grants Pass, Oregon) and they own almost a hundred shops, rather than almost a gazillion. The coffee was cheaper than the other guy's (even on a day when you have to pay) and tasted great, with specialty flavors like Almond Joy and Milky Way. We even loved the cute cups, decorated with a windmill and a bunch of tulips.

The D.B.'s motto is "All roads lead to Dutch Bros." Not quite — at least, not yet, here in Arizona. But if you're in Tempe, we recommend you stop by; syrups and whipped cream are always free, and even the tall, er, we mean small drink comes with an automatic double shot. Truth be told, it's more of a drive-thru than a house, but such is the way of our coffee culture these days.

They have a piano. Each employee has a business card with e-mail and a phone number. Yeah, they make coffee, too, and you'll appreciate that after you've basically moved in. Apparently, "unlimited" means there's nothing they can't do.

We love the not-too-sweet iced mochas, the perky iced teas and the cappuccinos, which contain the proper ratio of milk foam to espresso. Food offerings are minimal, but we appreciate the more healthful choices they do, like the breakfast of nuts and strawberries.

The ambiance is as good as it gets for a Valley coffee shop. There's free wireless Internet access and plenty of electrical outlets. The place is airy with high ceilings, and natural light falls everywhere but the old bank vault, which is an excellent place to plug in a laptop and get to work. The main area is similar to a nice hotel lobby, and the shop is often crowded, even on weekdays, with groups of people engaged in brainstorming and solitary computer users working on their next unpublishable novel. If Xtreme Bean had beds and cable TV, we'd move in.

We can't wait to get into The Mix.