There are two times of the year I can’t get enough of alfresco eating: October-November and March-April. I’m not alone in this. I know there are others out there. Maybe you’re a year-round citizen like myself, just recovering from cabin fever. Or perhaps you’ve just returned from some lovely green…
I don’t just work on the Best of Phoenix section, I read it. When our annual special insert came out in September, I noticed that Sombrero Joe’s was voted Best New Mexican Restaurant by New Times readers. “Hmmmm,” I thought. “I ought to check this out. See what I’ve been…
Afternoon tea manages to sound civilized and superfluous at the same time. Let’s face it, sitting down to a pot of tea and some prissy little cucumber sandwiches sometime between lunch and dinner doesn’t quite jibe with the schedules of most Filofax-clutching Americans. “Tea” sounds like an archaic ritual preserved…
Before durum wheat noodles were called “pasta,” before we’d ever heard of “carbo loading,” there was an American family favorite called “spaghetti.” Spaghetti was spaghetti. There was only one thickness. You bought it at the supermarket in long boxes and dropped it into boiling water to cook. Then, you’d fish…
Here’s a mystery for you culinary detectives. Why is Thai food in Los Angeles so superior to what we have here in the Valley? Why, oh why? On a relative scale, we’re not that much farther from Bangkok than, say, Pasadena. So why the huge difference in quality and taste?…
The first day of fall has come and gone. As leaves pile up in other parts of the country, license plates in Arizona change color as well. Drawn like moths to a flame, visitors motor Southwest in droves. Depending on your point of view, their presence is a boon or…
October stands for a lot of things. Crisp apples. Peak foliage. Carved pumpkins. But most important to serious celebrants of food and drink, October signals Oktoberfest, that little-understood but much loved German holiday. In Munich, where Oktoberfest began as a royal wedding bash 180 years ago, the yearly festival runs…
Spa cuisine. Its origin is fairly obvious. It comes from spas, like La Costa or Canyon Ranch where rich and famous people go to shed unwanted pounds. Pounds acquired from living the good life one-day-at-a-time too many. You and I should have such problems. You and I should be so…
A couple of weeks ago, I was backtracking some of my old Judas Priest albums just for the hell of it, and, sure enough, I found a message. When I played “Pain and Pleasure” from Screaming for Vengeance in reverse, the lyrics, “The way you’re treating me, I feel I’ll…
For months, I’ve had Middle Eastern cuisine on my “to do” list. Ten weeks ago, I could have pulled off a simple restaurant review. Now, with Iraq’s annexation of Kuwait and thousands of American troops sweating it out in Saudi Arabia, I simply can’t. Everything has changed. It takes only…
It’s tough to review restaurants that represent everything you hate: the type of place that you, as a private citizen, would never frequent in a million years unless maybe some of the girls at work took you out as a surprise for your birthday, or you were shopping in a…
When I was sworn in last March as New Times restaurant critic, part of my oath of office was to share my restaurant findings with my readers. Sometimes, like this week, I do so reluctantly. At one time or another, all of you probably have “found” a little restaurant you…
Every now and then, the world around you shifts slightly and your personal universe expands. This is how I feel after discovering Bev’s Kitchen on South 16th Street. Finally! A down-home restaurant serving soul-tinged Southern cooking at inexpensive prices. It’s enough to make a Yankee start whistling “Dixie.” An anonymous…
You’ve just returned from a summer vacation spent visiting your in-laws in Nebraska. Your coffers are empty and so is your stomach. After two weeks in the heartland, you want–no, make that need–some Mexican food in a hurry. Have I got a place for you. Taco Cabana, Bazooka pink and…
Summer is never laid-back at New Times. Ever hard-core, during the hottest months of the year we leave the relative comfort of our offices to drive up, down and around the Valley. Our quest? To discover the Best of Phoenix–something you can judge as well (see Readers’ Poll, page ??)…
You’re busy. It’s hot. I won’t waste your time. Here’s a handy quiz to see if you should read Cafe this week. Please answer yes or no: 1) Do you, like the Thief in Peter Greenaway’s The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and Her Lover, have piles of money lying…
I’ve always been a fan of Raffaele’s in Mesa, so I was excited when I learned of Lauretta Melchiori and Raffaele Contacessi’s plans to open a second restaurant in Phoenix. The location of Raffaele’s at Concord Place is indisputably gorgeous. Nestled deep in the heart of the plush Concord Place…
You would think he’d be impervious by now. Christopher Gross, owner and chef of Christopher’s and the Bistro, is a smash hit. Local restaurant critics rave. National restaurant critics rave. Food and Wine, in 1989, named Gross one of the nation’s ten best new chefs. The accolades flow like wine…
It is 9:30 on a Wednesday evening in North Scottsdale. The parking lot is dotted with Range Rovers. Inside, our fellow diners seem unaware of the time. Fashionably dressed in expensive casual clothes, they chat unconcernedly, as if the evening had just begun. They wield wooden chopsticks with decided ease…
Most people think my ever-faithful dining accomplice Goat earned his nickname because he will eat anything. This is not true. For instance, on a recent pre-Fourth of July expedition in search of cowboy steak, Goat scorns the endorsements of James Garner, Cybill Shepherd, and Michael Cooper, and orders chicken. How,…
I’ve always liked East Indian food. The spiciest I’ve ever eaten was on a hiking trip through the British Isles. My boyfriend and I were in London and decided to forgo fish and chips for Indian food one night. Both of us were pretty macho about spicy food, whatever its…
It could be any Saturday night. The maitre d’ at Trader Vic’s leads us to a small table near the restaurant’s fire doors. It is a miserable location, one I would like to change. “Is this the nonsmoking section?” I query. Wordlessly, our host swoops our menus off the rejected…
