Best Upscale Breakfast 2002 | Cafe Ted | Food & Drink | Phoenix
Cafe Ted is one of the most beautiful restaurants we've ever seen. That has a lot to do with its tranquil setting, off a private garden in an office complex in the high Sonoran Desert. Rather than following signs, we hunt the place down by following the slinky aromas of freshly baked muffins, Italian coffees and homemade cinnamon coffee cake. And what a beautiful way to start the day. The menu here is a creative offering of upscale American favorites, Italian coffees and an endless number of flavored espressos.

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

We know we're getting older when it's a Saturday morning and our brain isn't pounding. We also know we're getting older when, if we do go out and drink, we're in a horrible world of hurt the next day. The kind that even hair of the dog won't heal.

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

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

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

We know Chandler is so far east that it feels like New Mexico, but if you actually know the difference between a bagel and a doughnut, and wouldn't eat a fruit bagel if someone pinned you and shoved it down your throat, it's worth the drive. Yeah, they have fruit bagels and fancy cream cheese, too, but they have real live New York bagels. Honest. Add a great deli with items like ambrosia salad, whitefish, black-and-white cookies and chubs, and you'll swear you were on the corner of Second and 10th, except that it's a lot bigger, a lot cleaner, and in a strip mall with parking. We recommend the "everything" bagel with cream cheese, but that's just us.
Pretzel carts are the first things we leap upon whenever we hit Manhattan; at a buck, pretzels are the only remaining bargain to be found in the big city.

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

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

We actually hate the term "comfort food." It's been used so much over the last year that it makes us think the world is full of babies needing their blankies. But the truth is, some dishes invite us to curl up and cuddle more than others. When we miss our grandma and grandpa, we head to Weather Vane, where we can always count on those down-home dishes that fit us as close as flannel PJs.

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

We're feeling awfully warm and cuddly.

We start thinking about lunch around, oh, 9 a.m., pretty much as soon as we've finished our breakfast bagel. On some days, our lunch escape is the only thing that makes slaving in an office bearable. Yet, in downtown Phoenix, it can be hard to find something quick, inexpensive and relaxed that's more interesting than just another sandwich.

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

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

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

If ever a restaurant looked like it was built for the noontime spirits and cigar set, it's Kincaid's. Sure, it's a chain, but a mighty fine one, and if it takes corporate money and vision to bring such a class act to our barren downtown dining scene, we're all for it. Rich cherry woods, acres of sparkling glass, gleaming brass fixtures, vintage scenes of Phoenix on the walls and servers decked out in authentic old-time steak-house whites all lend classic flair.

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

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

The folks at El Camino Cafe have a sense of humor. Here's how they tell us to find their restaurant: "Drive around aimlessly while parched and hungry and then call us up blabberin' about some road we've never heard of until we hang up on you."

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

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

Jamie Peachey
We love homemade treats, but who has the time? Martha Stewart's been one-upped once again, with the discovery of Arcadia Farms' granola. One of the Valley's best little cafes rolls oats, roasted pecans, dried apricots, pumpkin seeds and brown sugar to make the perfect breakfast cereal or anytime snack. You can buy the granola at Arcadia Farms, or call and order it ahead. It's also for sale at the Willo Baking Company in Phoenix -- enough to turn anyone into a serial granola eater.
No snack has fallen harder victim to the chauvinism of body-conscious health nuts than the potato chip. All that starch and fat, you know. But no one around here does them better than Jilly's. You can keep your fat-free pretzels and (unhh) veggie platters -- these chips are the phattest fattening snack you could hope for. Paper-thin, crisp as communion wafers and so generously salted and deeply cooked that no dip is required, or even offered. And to top it all off, a giant plate of them is only a buck. Take that, personal trainer.

Best Of Phoenix®

Best Of