On one hand, it could be said that chef Doug Robson's Otro Cafe is a complement to his first restaurant, Gallo Blanco, in the way of very good and deftly prepared Mexican cuisine. In another sense, it's a more elevated companion that can hold its own. You'll find outstanding, bulked-out tacos here, as well as the Spanish-style tapas called El Español, an Inca salad made with nearly a dozen ingredients, and the satisfying tocino con rajas torta, a kind of BLT run through a Mexico City kitchen. For dessert, you'll want the postre de coco, a delicate creation of creamy coconut pudding topped with chocolate shavings that's reminiscent of a Mounds bar gone gourmet.
For the longest time, this 36-year-old neighborhood staple in Central Phoenix had pared down its menu to just its famous green chili and red chili burros. Not that anyone was complaining. When you serve essentially just two dishes (and a couple of variations on each) and the lines are still out the door, you're doing something right. Earlier this year, the family-run hole in the wall (truly, no signage or dining room to speak of) expanded its menu to include excellent beef and shredded chicken tacos, bean tostadas, cheese enchiladas, and cheese crisps. They now accept credit cards, too. And just like that, Rito's got even better.
Have you had the chicken burro at Asadero Norte De Sonora? Because if you haven't, you're missing out on a kind of chicken burro nirvana — a piece of wrapped paradise in the form of stellar shredded bits of mesquite chicken, frijoles, shredded cabbage, and creamy guacamole. It will make you feel happy. It will cause you to grin while you polish off your grande agua fresca. And most likely, it will see you in its modest little restaurant home again. This time, perhaps, with a few loaded tacos, a chicken dinner with all the fixin's, or a giant smoking grill of parrillada.
When Victoria Chavez started Los Dos Molinos nearly 40 years ago in Springerville, Arizona, she hardly could have imagined her New Mexican-style restaurant, named after two antique chile grinders, would be the fiery family business it is today. The original Phoenix location, housed in the adobe-style onetime home of Western silent movie actor Tom Mix, keeps the home fires burning with packed plates of meltingly tender adovada ribs marinated in a spicy red chile sauce, chunky chimichangas slathered in green chili, and potent margaritas enjoyed on the casita's courtyard patio.
There's nothing like a neighborhood restaurant that's actually, well, in a neighborhood. And this homey spot just off historic Glendale's main drag has been serving old-school Mexican eats since 1949. Originally Lily's Cafe, it became Fajardo's in 2009 when Alfredo Fajardo, the son of the original restaurant's cooks, reopened the place, keeping the old recipes intact. There's nothing over-the-top here, just good, hearty plates of crunchy beef chimichangas, cheese enchiladas, and oven-roasted pork chops (a Sunday special) with strips of green chile. Judging by the regulars who regularly pack the place, the neighborhood approves.
If you are a fan of mole, the dark, intricate sauce made with dozens of nuts, chiles, and spices, you could do worse than pay a visit to Elizabeth Hernandez's cheery Oaxacan restaurant in Sunnyslope. Available in red or black, the mole can be had spooned over chicken or chicken enchiladas. And the black, made with chocolate, is the star ingredient in what may be the best Oaxacan-style tamale in the Valley. There are tlayudas, too, covered in ropy and salty quesillo, al pastor, and tasajo; as well as quesadillas fritas and a spicy amarillo soup. The restaurant doubles as a Oaxacan marketplace, boasting deli cases and shelves filled with items from Hernandez's homeland.
Every year, chef Azucena Tovar travels back to her childhood home of San Miguel de Allende in central Mexico. And every year, we can't wait for her to return. That's when she adds new dishes to her already stellar menu of well-crafted Mexican food — the kind that have been bringing Scotts-dalians back to her charming brick home for almost 20 years. Perhaps you'll want luscious enchiladas filled with hibiscus, crab, or baked duck; classic chipotle pork; or grilled chicken breast stuffed with goat cheese and huitlacoche (corn smut). And speaking of huitlacoche, Tovar's huitlacoche crepas, served with blue and goat cheeses and pomegranate sauce, are the surest bets in Scottsdale.
El Tlacoyo may not serve up the escamoles (red ant eggs), chinicuiles (insect larvae), or zacahuiles (yard-long tamales) of Hidalgo, the eastern Mexican state the restaurant tips its sombrero to, but its listing of more than 100 dishes is still, like the rugged-terrain state, a nearly inexhaustible source of flavors. There are tlacoyos, oval-shaped fried masa cakes topped with cheese, chicken, and an excellent green sauce; tacos packed with sausage and cactus; and fried quesadillas filled with huitlacoche and pumpkin flower. Wait for the weekend and you'll get special items like heavenly, barbacoa de borrego (barbecued lamb) served with soup and tortillas and spicy tulancingueñas — a kind of ham and cheese sandwich by way of Hidalgo.
This unassuming restaurant in Mesa may look small from the outside, but through its doors await gigantic plates of boldly flavored and affordable Mexico City eats: long, scroll-like flautas packed with moist shredded chicken or beef; monstrous tortas gigantes layered with Mexican-style ham, chicken milanesa, and hot dog slices; and dinners of heady chilaquiles verdes and garlic-tinged carnitas piled high to please. If you've brought some hungry amigos along, you'll want the Casuela a la Mexicana, a feast of eight excellent dishes. Or for a refreshing meal of the liquid sort, try a Bomba served up in a giant martini glass.
Like an old friend, Así es la Vida, Spanish for "such is life," is the kind of restaurant that, no matter when we visit, never fails to remind us why it holds a place in our hearts. Since it began in 1993, closed in 1999, and resurrected itself again in 2003, the family-owned spot, more or less responsible for teaching the Valley much of what it now knows about the cuisine of central-southern Mexico, has experienced nearly as much love and rejection as the Mexico City-born artist Frida Kahlo (which may be why homages to her self-portraits grace the walls). The restaurant's outward appearance may be a bit more frayed, its now-purple exterior with flashing "open" signs hardly becoming of a place once lauded by the New York Times as one of Phoenix's most interesting dining destinations. But inside, tucked into its cozy rooms appointed with Mexican art, white tablecloths, and fresh flowers, the food — an Acapulco-style shrimp cocktail, a well-seasoned Carne Tampiqueña, and enormous butterflied garlicky shrimp you'll pick up and eat right out of their skins — is as thoughtful and as flavorful as ever.
Looking for a plate of morning machaca on the city's south side? Pop into this unassuming little strip-mall eatery at the corner of Central Avenue and Baseline Road, where you can get a very good version of the dried shredded beef — mixed with egg, tomato, jalapeños, and onions — on a plate with rice, beans, and tortillas or bulking out a giant burrito. There are excellent chilaquiles, too, made with El Mesquite's richly flavored enchilada sauce. And it's good to know that while waiting for your Mexican breakfast, you can munch on as many complimentary crispy chips with spicy salsa as you'll allow yourself to have.
The Carolina's tortilla, as just about everyone knows, is the closest thing to ideal in the Valley. Which is why when it comes to the breakfast burrito, your a.m. wake-up call should consist of this 40-year-old Mexican restaurant chain's fresh and delicate housemade tortilla wrapped around fillings like egg, beans, potato, spicy chorizo, and seasoned machaca. Add a little red or green chili and your morning step just got pepped.
When the lovesick duke in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night remarks, "If music be the food of love, play on," we'd like to imagine him at this late-night Mexican eatery inside Crescent Ballroom, downtown's most popular music venue, with burrito in hand. Loaded with ingredients like sweet al pastor marinated in achiote citrus, garlicky Angus beef braised with oregano, and tasty seasonal and local veggies, these massive beauties, wrapped in a thick, soft tortilla, will get you through your favorite band's riotous riff, bluesy ballad, or head-bobbin' jam — and with enough energy left for an encore.
True taco euphoria, it has been said, depends on the whims of the taco taster. And at this moment, ours can be found in this no-frills Mexican street-food joint in Central Phoenix that keeps them cheap, simple, and simply delectable. There is juicy grilled lengua, a spicy and luscious pineapple-marinated al pastor, and a beer-battered fish taco with lightly pickled red onions, shredded cabbage, and spicy Mexican crema on a griddled flour tortilla that's just about as good as it gets. It's an easy place to get happy.
Might the ultimate Mexican snack be the humble tamale? Quite possibly. The simple masa-based dish dates back to ancient Mexican and Latin Americans like the Aztecs and Mayans, who were gobbling them up back in 5000 BC. Seven thousand years later, they still are staples at Mexican restaurants, including this longtime family-owned eatery in Central Phoenix. Made in-house, the soft, perfectly steamed masa envelops long strips of flavorful green corn, chicken, or a delicious mixture of pork and beef. Order them à la carte or as part of a platter, on which they're smothered in La Piñata's richly zesty sauce. Just like the Mayans used to make.
Do you worship your hot dogs at the altar of Southwestern fast food? If so, there may not be a more perfect creation than the Sonoran. A beef frank with bacon, pinto beans, and condiments like onions, fresh tomatoes, jalapeño sauce, mayonnaise, and mustard, it's a dog whose whole is greater than the sum of its parts. El Exquisito, the family-run hot dog stand on the city's west side, makes a formidable Sonoran dog. Its version features thick bits of bacon and adds ketchup as one of the condiments, giving it a more pork-y flavor with just a touch of sweetness and with a big doughy hug thanks to a downy-soft bun. Open every night (except Tuesday) about 6:30 p.m. and closing between midnight and 1 a.m., El Exquisito serves up a Sonoran dog that is, as the name suggests, exquisite.
For those whose Mexican sandwich fantasies consist of ingredients like meat, avocado, tomato, pickled jalapeños, and mayo packed into torpedo-shaped bolillo or telera bread, this local chain's offerings are a tasty head trip. There's the namesake sandwich, which comes with tender, thinly sliced pork and mustard; the classic Cubano with shredded pork, ham, turkey, beans, and two kinds of cheese; and the mighty Torta Ahogado, featuring thick slices of pork, avocado, and refried beans drenched in a spicy and rich tomato-based chile sauce. Extra napkins? They've got as many as you'll probably need.
The carne asada from Ta' Carbon is pretty amazing. Grilled to perfection, lightly marinated, and with just the right amount of coarse salt, the beef is sizzled over a charcoal fire, a method most asada aficionados consider ideal. You hardly could be blamed for watching it cook behind the counter, its smoky, meaty aromas finding their way to your nose before you've even had a chance to fill up your plate with diced onions, cilantro, Mexican limes, sliced marinated carrots, and salsas from the condiment bar. When it's ready, it comes with a tortilla, atop tacos, or however you wish, really. Want an ice-cold Mexican soda to wash it down with? You bet you do.
For 10 bucks, you could do worse than the crazy-good grilled chicken meal served at this no-frills Mexican meat shop and market in Scottsdale. Served up hot 'n' ready from a giant outdoor charcoal grill, these boldly seasoned and deliciously smoky whole chickens get packed to-go with corn tortillas, a pint each of rice and hot dog-studded beans, and fresh, spicy salsa. The fowl-focused feast easily will feed more than one person, so if you're going solo, prepare for some tasty leftovers.
As Valley dwellers, we're lucky to never be too far from a place that serves zingy Mexican-style seafood cocktails, stews, and ocean-centric eats. Our hangout, at the moment, is San Carlos Bay — the little house in the shadow of State Route 51 that's been around for over 25 years. Here, you'll find plump shrimp baked with cheese in a deep green poblano cream sauce, a white fish fillet soaked in garlic, and a "super" cocktail loaded with delicacies like sea snails and baby clams. A lazy Susan loaded with sauces at each table makes it easy to give your seafood an extra kick.
Corn gnawed right off the cob is a delicious thing, but even better is a warm cup of grilled white corn kernels, bathed in butter, with just a hint of mayo, and topped with cotija and Valentina. All the taste of an elote, but none of the mess. Nestled in a relatively quiet spot at the very crowded Arizona Mills, Raspados Paradise's coctel de elote gives you a taste of Mexico City, allowing you to walk, eat, and avoid pushy mall vendors while engulfed in edible bliss.
For those without the good fortune of having pozole served up regularly at home, pop into this spartan eatery in Mesa for a soul-soothing bowl of what just might be the perfect Mexican comfort food. Served up as pozole rojo, Taquitos Jalisco's red chile-laced broth features bone-on chunks of beef, puffy, chewy pieces of hominy, and a plate loaded up with cilantro, white onion, shredded cabbage, and slices of lime to flavor your pozole as you please. Served up in a giant bowl, it will feed you today and, most likely, tomorrow, too.
The folks at La Sonorense realize that a thick and chewy flour tortilla is a terrible thing, so they make their tortillas, available from 5-inch taco all the way to 15-inch burro size, into delicate paper-thin and par-cooked disks, selling them out by the two-dozen pack in their tiny, friendly cash-only shop on Central. The best thing about par-cooked tortillas? Getting the thrill of seeing a tortilla poof up into a perfect pillow without all that rolling and flour dust everywhere.
La Sonorense's primary business is to supply local restaurants, and chances are if you've had a fantastic flour tortilla anywhere in town, it is one of theirs. Their corn tortillas are equally delicious, but it's even better to pick up their tortilla masa, sold still warm by the pound, and try your hand at making them at home.
For those who consider chips and salsa the dynamic duo of Mexican eats, we present Joyride Taco House. In downtown Gilbert, this energetic taquería (from the folks behind Federal Pizza, Windsor, and Postino) serves up a dazzling default fire-roasted salsa and bottomless basket of crunchy housemade tortilla chips, then ups the ante with specialty salsas of bright tomatillo, bold and smoky chile de arbol, slightly fruity guajillo pepita, and charred habanero available for a few extra bucks. Boozy housemade aguas frescas to wash 'em down with? They've got those, too. (And good news: Joyride is expected to open a location on Central Avenue north of Camelback Road in December.)
Purists may argue that on the subject of guacamole, less is more. But then, they've probably never had legendary Valley chef Silvana Salcido Esparza's Guacamole del Barrio. Bulked out with diced tomato, red onion, jalapeño, lime juice, cilantro, and juicy pomegranate seeds, this gourmet twist on a classic is nothing short of sublime – one whose flavorful enhancements might cause even the most hardened of purists to wonder why the avocado-based dip couldn't have just started out this way in the first place.
With the entirety of the Pro's Ranch Market produce department at their disposal, this oasis within the madness of this supermercado is built on the colorful contents of the now-ubiquitous beehive glass jugs. Not only do the friendly ladies behind the juice bar make a mean (sadly, virgin) piña colada, but there is something awe-inspiring in watching 30 gallons of horchata being made in one batch.
Are you a refreshment seeker of the unusual sort? Then you'll want to wrap your lips around the chamoy-coated straw of a bebida exotica at this cheery sweet shop in Mesa. Colorful, bold, and jam-packed with ingredients like fresh mango, tamarind candy, plum syrup, flavored shaved ice, and cinnamon, the 21-ounce liquid invigorators might be creamy and fruity (the Gloria), sour and nutty (the Chamoyada), or devilishly sweet and spicy (our favorite, the Diablito). One thing they never are, though, is forgettable.
With her kitschy logo and signature bite mark on every paleta (don't worry; it's a mold, not from her mouth), Betty stays at the top of the frozen-treat business in this town for two very good reasons: The insistence of using all-natural and fresh ingredients and the melding of traditional Mexican flavors with a modern twist.
With her roots in Michoacán, the ice cream- and paleta-churning state of Mexico, Betty Alatorre de Hong fills her paleta molds with a colorful array of the best seasonal offerings of the Valley's farmers, like dates, peaches, and sweet corn, accented with raisins.
One of our new favorites? The very adult-appropriate aged-rum-spiked piña colada. And one more reason to love Paletas Betty? The Perroleta, a dogs-only chicken popsicle!
If you've ever wished for a brick-and-mortar expanded version of an ice cream truck, wish no longer — Dulceria Arcoiris is here to fulfill your childhood summer dreams. The best part is that the fully-open-to-the-public warehouse sells its ice cream, popsicle, and candy wares at wholesale prices, so you can get an unreasonable amount of sweets, including gallon jugs of snow-cone syrup, for next to nothing. Boxes of a dozen paletas in almost any flavor, including cucumber, coconut, and guava, are only $5. Plus, they offer all of the classics like bomb pops, drumsticks, and those cartoon character ice cream pops with the gumball eyes. No matter what sweet treat you pick at Dulceria Arcoiris, it's going to be so cheap that the trip to the spot on 15th Street and Van Buren spot pretty much will pay for itself.
What this small retail storefront lacks in space and ambiance, it more than makes up for with its variety of Mexican candies sold in larger packages perfect for stuffing the star-shaped piñatas dangling from the ceiling. It carries the requisite salty treats, like Lucas, and the sugary goodness of De la Rosa Mazapan, a powdery peanut butter candy. And, once you've loaded up on candy to stuff the piñata, you have to stop at the ice cream counter and stuff yourself with a Pico de Gallo. It's a glass filled with long strips of fresh pineapple, cucumber, mango, and watermelon cut right in front of you, covered with a sprinkle of Tajin, a salty/spicy/sour topping, and chile cayena (cayenne pepper).
Friendly, helpful workers make this bright, fun store that much better. At this one-stop shop, you get everything you need to throw a fabulous party. You can pick up one of the piñatas it has in stock or, if you give them a week's notice, you can custom-order one. Need a water slide? They have it available for rent. Ditto for jukeboxes and karaoke machines, along with margarita, cotton candy, popcorn, snow cone, slush machines — and even a mini-hot dog cart you can haul away for the day. True to the name, Sueños y Recuerdos also carries delicate, frilly recuerdos (keepsakes) for weddings, baptisms, first communions, baby showers, and quinceañeras.
A flock of ceramic chickens greets you at Mercado Mexico. We could say it's almost like they're egging you on to explore — but that would be cheesy. And the chickens are only the beginning. Past the chickens are brightly colored turtles, frogs, lizards, and pigs — all keeping warm under blazing metal suns. There are candle holders, wrought-iron works of art, pieces twisted and flattened into flowers, potted-plant holders, and decorative wall pieces. And there are pots; oh, how there are pots — pots with lids, pots for planting, giant pots just for display, pots emblazoned with desert landscapes and Mexican or Indian villages. Don't be chicken; get shopping.
No matter what you want, this place has it. Rustic, leather-covered chaise lounges. A six-foot pine bar with built-in drawers and a wine rack. Decorative vases and pots that range from "Hey, let's plant a few herbs" to suitable for an indoor queen palm. Mexamigo gets its goods from a factory in Guadalajara, so it's as authentic Mexican craftsmanship as you can get. As packed as this place is, it is clean and organized, easy to maneuver. There are rows and rows — and stacks upon stacks — of crosses, wall art, paintings, mirrors, tiles, wood and ceramic statues, talavera pottery, fountains, wrought iron gates, doors, antiques . . . Well, like we said, no matter what you want, this place has it. If they don't have it, you can custom-order it and they'll create it.
We love the large supermercados in town, but when all we need is a cone or two of piloncillo or a package of chipotles, this tiny market in Mesa is just the thing to fill our shopping basket. With the same selection as the big stores (but edited), the shelves of this small shop (and the delicious bakery attached to it) burst with Mexican cleaning products, pickled jalepeños, every type of dried chile used in Latin cooking, and a quick-moving and well-priced produce section. The meat counter running the width of the store is packed full of house-cut meats, which are expertly seasoned and cooked for the small and affordable ready-to-eat food section, with a food coma-inducing $5 torta. Grab a Mexican Coke and enjoy every bite before even leaving the store, at one of the thoughtfully provided red laminate tables.
How did we know we'd likely stumbled upon a winner in the Best Margarita category? The name, silly. A high-class joint like Sierra Bonita Grill was hardly going to call a margarita special if it wasn't. And, oh, this one is. The not-so-secret ingredient that pushes it over the edge is brandy, but from top to bottom, this drink is all good: shaken orange juice, Cointreau, reposado tequila, and homemade sweet and sour. Be sure to bring your designated driver; this drink is a strong one.
It used to be a private, friends-and-family-only, small-batch tequila going back three generations in the town of Tequila, Jalisco. Today this smooth premium tequila is a gift resulting from the reunion of an estranged father and daughter, bringing an elegant tequila to the American market. Stone oven-cooked blue agave hearts are the foundation of a spirit that's double-distilled and shipped from Jalisco to Queen Creek, where Debbie Medina of Jalisco International Imports Inc. and her partner, Jonathan Gach, bottle the family secret. At $50 for the French white oak barrel-aged Reposado, it isn't a bargain, but this light amber liquid isn't a shooting tequila — it's a tequila for sipping neat while sharing your own family secrets.
Ever spend an hour trying to pick out a tequila from a list of 100 bottles? We don't like our tequila-sipping time being wasted by bottom-shelf tequila. We want to get to the good stuff and get to it fast. Give us a tequila list with an opinion and some editing or give us gin.
Hold the gin bottle, though; Blue Hound Kitchen & Cocktails has done the editing for us and put together a thoughtful list of fewer than 25 tequilas, all sip-worthy, no salt, lime, or sour mix required. Not being a Mexican restaurant may give the sleek Blue Hound a leg up in the tequila competition by allowing it to be more selective. If you still can't figure out what to sip, chat with Steph the bartender and let her help you decide.
According to Miguel Morales, he isn't much into twerking. And he felt that way long, long before Miley Cyrus made the notorious booty-shaking maneuver even more infamous (and earning worldwide scorn as a result) on the VMAs earlier this month. The 31-year-old, who's also known as DJ Kyko, says he leaves that to the ladies to handle. "I'm a dude," Morales quips. "And dudes shouldn't ever twerk."
He's happy to bring that about by dropping Latin songs with some serious tempo and bounce, like maybe "Wiggle Wiggle" by Fulanito, during his Friday night main room hip-hop and reggaeton set at Monarch Theatre or up at Q-Lounge when he's there on Tuesdays and Saturdays slinging more Latin sets filled with merengues. But only, he says, when the time is right. After DJing professionally for more than a decade, like any ace selector, Morales has learned to read a room properly and pick the perfect songs for the particular mood and crowd. "If it's a majority of ladies, they're gonna want more of a Latin feel," he says. "Dudes want more machismo so I go with reggaeton or hip-hop." Both sexes, however, really dig it when he cues up super-popular tracks like "Echa Pa'lla (Manos Pa'rriba)" by Pitbull, which has resulted in one giant sing-along at Monarch. "I can shut off the music and have 600 people at once singing an entire hook of a song by themselves, and I mean they'll go word for word," he says. "It's amazing." But not nearly as astounding as when he saw 15 girls twerking together in unison. "That was fun to watch," Morales says. It's just one of the many perks of being a DJ.
Latin dance fans who can't get their culos into Q-Lounge by midnight on a Saturday might as well stay at home. ¿Porqué? Because you missed out on the best moment of the weekly Sabados Latinos night, wey, and it's a quite a spectacle. Allow us to set the scene: Adjacent rooms inside the barbecue joint/dance club are packed to capacity with hundreds, each wielding balloons and glowsticks as uptempo Latin dance music blasts out. The high-energy soundtrack builds to a crescendo, confetti cannons fire away, the bouncing and dancing increases, and buxom beer girls hold aloft signs urging everyone to go even harder (as if that were possible). It's an epic conflagration of sound and movement that's truly a sight to behold. If only you could've been there. We suggest arriving earlier in order to enjoy the whole night, which includes R&B and Top 40 mixed in with reggaeton that echoes through the main room while salsa, cumbia, and bachata dominate next door. Both options require fast moves and quick feet, especially if wanna keep up with the chica next to you, cabrón.
When it comes down to it, getting into Sky Lounge on Friday and Saturday nights is pretty easy. You just dress nicely (read: no caps or sportswear), wait patiently, and don't be a dick to security. Really, it's getting out that's the hard part. And not just because it gets really busy on weekends. Sky Lounge features the enticing combination of cheap drinks (including the ever-popular Adios Motherfuckers for $3 until midnight) and two levels filled with hot sounds and even hotter women. However, most of the crowd that comes to this longtime downtown Phoenix discoteca (which has been around since 1992) come to dance. And the DJs are glad to oblige. One floor typically is the domain of Latin genres such as salsa and bachata, while the other is hip to the Top 40 and R&B tip. Another reason to stay inside Sky Lounge is its 3 a.m. closing time, which allows you to avoid the usual chaos of the Washington Street club scene that ensues when neighboring clubs kick their patrons out onto the sidewalk at closing time.
Since 2002, 14 ladies — gilded botonadura shining down the sides of their long charro skirts, hair and makeup perfectly in place — have been taking the stage throughout Arizona, bringing grace and delicacy to the classic mariachi songs of love, loss, betrayal, and revenge.
Female mariachi musicians are nothing new, but Mariachi Pasion is believed to be the first all-female mariachi in Arizona, with its members brought together by a shared musical passion while enrolled in non-musical studies at ASU. With a recent performance at Crescent Ballroom's Los Dias de la Crescent, there is nothing stopping these ladies from singing nothing but songs of joy.
Sweet Leaf is a labor of love for Fernando Moreno of Avondale. It wasn't his first Impala — the first one was stolen before he had a chance to turn it into the lowrider of his dreams — but this one is his sweet convertible ride. Moreno and Sweet Leaf are members of the Imperials Car Club, a local chapter affiliated with the Imperials of Los Angeles — a car club with a rich history and a blue Monte Carlo featured in the film Boulevard Nights. Moreno grew up in a family of lowrider enthusiasts, including cousins. And his dad taught him to work on cars when he was younger — it was a natural fit. Moreno gets Sweet Leaf on the road every chance he gets. But with fewer places ideal for cruising, he usually meets up with other lowrider owners in the parking lots of local restaurants. It's a blast for them, and an amazing impromptu car show for passersby.
Maritza Lizeth Felix won this award last year, but you gotta know Felix to understand that she doesn't just win awards for her reporting — she sweeps entire categories year after year. And that's exactly what happened during the Arizona Press Club's 2013 awards reception: She snagged just about all the awards among Spanish-language reporters. It's a recognition she's earned through her deep understanding of the immigration issues and Latino community she covers. But her work goes beyond reporting about the Latino vote or telling the stories of immigrants and their struggles. She covers local events and breaking news that would be relevant in any community but reports them in a way that matters to her Spanish-speaking audience.
Chandler resident Carmen Cornejo is steadfast in her support of the DREAMers, those kids brought to this country when they were young, through no fault of their own, and who have grown up, for all intents and purposes, as American citizens. All they lack is that little piece of paper. President Obama has given the DREAMers a path to near-normalcy with his Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program. But long before that, Cornejo was going to bat for these DREAMers, working with groups like CADENA and the Arizona DREAM Act Coalition, helping them when they got caught up in the legal system and trying to advance the idea of a national DREAM Act. Now that DACA's a reality, she's helping these teens and 20-somethings raise the funds to pay for the fees associated with application. She strives for justice for these intelligent young men and women, so they can stay with us and help fulfill the promise that America should offer to all.
Day of the Dead celebrations take place across the Valley at arts centers, city plazas, or at well-known spots like the Desert Botanical Garden. Most have individuals dressed in elaborate costumes and intricate altars, along with face painting, folkloric dancers, and mariachis. But many say that the day of remembrance that takes place at the Guadalupe Cemetery in Tempe is among the most authentic. People gather at the cemetery, established in about 1904 and lined with white crosses leaning in all directions. Families spend the day with their deceased loved ones, reminiscing. Some bring food and drinks — for themselves and for their interred relatives. Others hold graveside vigils and services. Some light up the night with candles outlining the graves. It's a colorful celebration honoring a day in Latin American culture laced with religious traditions that date back thousands of years.
Long before the Mexican Revolution (1910-1921), American turistas regularly invaded our neighbor to the south looking for exotic adventures and souvenirs they could drag home as proof of their traveling derring-do. Until the late 1960s, one of the mandatory stops on the Mexican vacation circuit was Tlaquepaque, a charming little town outside Guadalajara in the Mexican state of Jalisco that catered to the cravings of insatiable American consumer/collectors. The town was crammed with curio shops that carried handmade pottery made by artisans living in another nearby ceramics town, Tonalá.
Mexican ceramicists and shopkeepers quickly learned to pander to tourist tastes, and thus was born vintage Mexican tourist pottery, which has become wildly collectible. From the 1920s on, non-indigenous forms of utilitarian tableware, like formal tea sets, snack plates, divided lazy Susans, soup tureens, and other equally gringo forms of culinary presentation were schlepped back across the border and proudly displayed in the parlor.
Actual use of the low-fired decorated and glazed pottery pieces was problematic, since their glazes contained unhealthful amounts of lead. One of the very few places in the Valley that sells good vintage Mexican tourist pottery, as well as market and other Mexican folk art pottery — and for prices that don't involve the sale of newborns or second mortgages — is Bill Stolp's space at Antique Trove in Scottsdale. The owner, who also sells out of his house in Fountain Hills, has a good eye for vintage ware and prices it within the means of the average collector.
On our last trip to the Antique Trove, we spotted pieces done in the style of the famous Lucano family, wonderful soup tureens in the shape of a nesting chicken and a pokey turtle, and platters lavishly hand-decorated in what is called fantasía style. Stolp even had several noteworthy tree of life candelabra (arboles de la vida) from Metepec, another ceramics town in the state of Mexico famous for this particular form. Inventory changes frequently, so make sure to visit often. And take plenty of money.
In 1988, Phoenix's Public Art Program scored its first commission — a pair of murals by Mexico-trained artist Roberto Delgado. A lot has changed in that part of the city in the last 20-plus years, but the murals — combining elements of the city's ancient irrigation system with modern features from the neighborhood — have stood the test of time. In fact, we hear, they've barely been tagged, which is all but unheard of and a nice juxtaposition to what happened to the infamous pots commissioned by Phoenix not long after.
Lucky Phoenix: Delgado is a celebrated muralist and painter who lives in Los Angeles but spent a great deal of time in Chiapas and was a Fulbright fellow in Mexico City. His commissioned murals can be found in places including Alaska, Minnesota, and Nicaragua.