They mince the pork and pound the curry paste. They add the other aromatic ingredients: makrut lime leaf, lemongrass, cilantro, turmeric. They shape the sausage, a northern Thai staple known as sai ua. At last, they grill links over hot charcoal and slice them on a bias. Alex and Yotaka Martin's sai ua is explosively flavorful. No surprise there. This is no different from the curries, noodle dishes, soups, laabs, and the rest of the regional Thai deep cuts they lovingly prepare at intimate popup dinners and for preorder takeout. Food geeks have been high on Lom Wong for a year or two now. This is Thai food from the heart, and the stories behind it are on another level.

We could go on for days praising Hearth '61 at Mountain Shadows. The pedigree of the chefs — a culinary trio that includes luminaries Charles Wiley, one of the great fixtures and masters of resort cooking in Arizona — is part of it. Then there's the kitchen's centerpiece, an impressive, wood stone hearth oven that imparts a rustic charm and nuanced smoky flavor to signature dishes like tender short ribs with crispy Brussels sprouts and pork chops dressed up with spicy peaches and beer mustard. Finally, the ambiance: The tight, U-shaped counter is paneled with sleek wood and edged by blue-upholstered chairs. And this being an Arizona resort restaurant, there is Midcentury Modern decor and floor-to-ceiling windows offering scenic views of Camelback Mountain.

Lovecraft's previous happy hour setup, in which prices rose as the hours wore on, used to be like a little devil on our shoulder: It encouraged us to bounce out of work as early as possible to get the best specials. (Not that we would ever do that.) They've switched it up, though, so now whatever time you get there between 3 and 6 p.m. Tuesday through Friday, you're going to get the same delicious eats at the same price as everyone else. The food specials are selections from Lovecraft's New Mexico-inspired menu; the broken chip queso dip (we add brisket) and the green chile stew with a tortilla are favorites. Drink specials cover craft beers, wine, and cocktails. We've often gotten started at Lovecraft before 6 p.m. and lingered into the night to enjoy the elegant interior, friendly staff, and jovial atmosphere.

Part informal breakfast spot with lighter plates, part bakery, part coffeehouse where you can eternally linger eating snacks and enjoying a slow caffeine drip, Ollie Vaughn's punches way above its weight when it comes to morning eating. The croissant creations, like an egg sandwich and a croissant pudding, simply don't miss. The breakfast sandwich with meat changes all the time and tends to feature banger after banger, like a buttermilk biscuit with ham, eggs, and pimento; or another biscuit sammy with Schreiner's sausage, green chiles, and eggs. Some of the best baked goods here are classics. Don't sleep on the workaday strawberry muffin with ample powdered sugar. At Ollie Vaughn's, the tea selection is just wide enough, and the coffee list covers all the essential bases admirably. 

If you want the full brunch experience, meaning the breakfast cocktails and sticky sweets and wide savory selection and good coffee and a scene, then Tucson-based Prep & Pastry is the spot. The pastry counter of the on-canal Scottsdale location has some circus skills, from a croissant with puff and shatter to passion fruit pavlova and praline eclair. The plated brunch dishes are just as creative. Highlights include a peanut-butter-and-jelly French toast on Japanese milk bread, breakfast poutine with pork belly, and a cast-iron duck confit with cherries and goat cheese that could masquerade as a dinner entree. Drinks are thoughtful riffs on brunch classics, and they tend to disappear fast in the pleasant blur of a meal that reaches everything that the idea of brunch promises, but almost never actually delivers.  

If we have one quibble with our fair metropolis, it's a shortage of late-night dining options that aren't a Berto's drive-thru or a chain diner. Thank goodness for Grand Avenue Pizza Company, then, which satisfies our craving for great food from a locally owned business well into the wee hours of the morning. Grand Avenue prides itself on its ingredients, like its all-natural pizza dough and house-made toppings and sauces. The result is pies a couple of notches above a lot of the pizzas in this town and pretty much anything else you can order at 2 in the morning. We love the Jimmy Legs, which comes topped with pesto, chicken, bacon, onion, broccoli, tomato, cheddar, and mozzarella, but sometimes we prefer to create a pie of our own. Fortunately, Grand Avenue lets us pick our toppings, and the offerings include fresh jalapenos, roasted garlic, and caramelized onions. Whatever time we sidle up to the pizzeria's order window, we know we're in for a treat.

Located on the grounds of the historic Hermosa Inn, Lon's at the Hermosa (and the adjacent Lon's Last Drop) puts the paradise in Paradise Valley. The white-tablecloth Southwestern resort restaurant is heavy with colorful umbrellas, turquoise and tile accents, and the clinks of silverware and wine glasses — all surrounding the large bubbling water fountain that's the patio's centerpiece. Nearby, but in the same courtyard, Lon's Last has cowboy energy — probably because it's named for the art on the wall, a Lon Megargee painting of a cowboy watering his horse from his Stetson hat. There are five outdoor fireplaces, lots of beer and whiskey, a wood-burning oven, and house cocktails like The Last Drop (Tucson's Whiskey Del Bac single malt whiskey, Luxardo apricot, sweet Cocchi Vermouth di Torino, and blood orange). But if you can catch this sprawling patio in the spring, specifically during that week of blooming yellow palo verde trees, expect courtyard-side flowers in just about every color of the rainbow.

You miss the good old days of Tempe. We get it; we miss that golden, grimy era, too. But something had to take over the space once occupied by Sail Inn, the legendary Tempe rock club. We didn't give The Lodge, a Sasquatch-themed sports bar that opened in 2015 in the location, much of a chance at first. But six years later, we must admit: It's a damn solid sports bar. The woodsy theme, sure, whatever, it's fine. The patio's nice and spacious too. But we go for the grub. We practically lived here during the Suns' playoff run, during which time we became big fans of the Nacho Mountain (absolutely huge), the chicken tenders (we are tender aficionados, and these are some of the best in town), and the green chile pork stew (endorsed by no less a personage than Guy Fieri on Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives). The staff's super-attentive, and you don't have to deal with the kind of undergrad nonsense you'll encounter a few blocks away on Mill Avenue. Change can be bittersweet. At The Lodge, at least it's also delicious.

Phillip Lewkowicz, vice president of operations for Monarch Hospitality Group, and his family own the high-end Scottsdale spot Café Monarch — an Old Town joint that has won multiple accolades for being the most romantic restaurant in town. Well, until now. Their spinoff, a venture called Reserve, has usurped its parent eatery. As with many luxury products, scarcity is baked into the concept: Reserve serves only 25 diners per night. Guests first pass through a lush, garden entrance, then an interior welcome area, where a cocktail hour with hors d'oeuvres commences. Then it's on to the courtyard, where dinner is served. A tasting menu of 12 courses is offered, with other bites in between. Three advanced sommeliers help with wine pairings. But the patio, the aforementioned courtyard, is a vision of soft lighting, chattering diners, clinking wine glasses, and romance. It's truly the best new date night spot in town.

People say you can get a really good porterhouse at any number of places around the Valley. But can you? Not according to us. So we swear by the steaks at this Phoenix perennial, which serves the finest corn-fed slabs of beef in town. The Stockyards' claim that it's "Arizona's Original Steakhouse" isn't hooey — the restaurant has been with us since 1947, offering entrees with an emphasis on hearty flavors and honking portions. There's no gourmet trickery here; no mushroom sauces or demiglace to detract from the filets and sirloins, the giant baked potatoes and fresh-steamed vegetables. And if you find yourself wanting to eat a little less food or spend a little less money, don't sleep on the restaurant's 1889 Saloon, a side room with turn-of-the-century appeal and a lighter menu of sliders, wings, and even calf fries. What we're saying is: Take your meat-and-potatoes ass to the Stockyards.