Carilee Fox
Audio By Carbonatix
Before he donned a chef’s coat and launched Valley restaurants Hush Public House and Fire at Will, Dom Ruggiero experienced food through his four years as a U.S. Marine.
While serving his country, Ruggiero experienced the food culture in Japan, the Philippines, Thailand, Kuwait and Iraq, where Ruggiero completed one tour of duty in the wake of the Sept. 11 attacks.
When Ruggiero returned home in 2006, he brought these culinary influences with him. Today, diners can get a taste of flavorful ingredients like small-but-potent chiles and warming spices that Ruggiero was served abroad.
“If you look at the menus at Hush and Fire at Will, there’s a lot of Asian and definitely Middle Eastern influences,” Ruggiero says.
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For example, there are bacon-wrapped dates with goat cheese, pomegranate seeds and muhammara, a red pepper walnut dip from the Middle East. Crispy Brussels sprouts are paired with roasted peanuts, sesame, Asian pear and nuoc cham, a citrusy Vietnamese fish sauce.
There are also zhuzhed-up versions of mess hall grub. When he opened Hush, Ruggiero’s Italian Beef sandwich was his sophisticated spin on the famous military mainstay, Shit on a Shingle, which features chopped, dried beef simmered in cream gravy and served on toast.
“It looked like a fancy SOS,” Ruggiero says of his rendition, currently composed of braised oxtail, smoked provolone, brioche and housemade giardinaria, one of the many ingredients he incorporates as a nod to his Italian roots. “It’s something I’ll go back to and make a nicer, fancier version and put my spin on it.”
Sourcing local ingredients and keeping menus seasonal are other practices that Ruggiero incorporates from the international eateries he frequented.
“The street food on every corner, common everyday eating. All those things left a lasting impression,” Ruggiero says.

Carilee Fox
Powered eggs, MREs, low ceilings
Ruggiero was a freshman playing football for Glendale Community College in 2001. Then came the terrorist attacks on the morning of Sept. 11.
He finished the football season and first semester, and in 2002, enlisted in the Marine Corps, where he would spend the next four years.
“I felt compelled to serve my country,” says Ruggiero, whose grandfathers served in the Navy and Army.
He talks about his first meal abroad as a Marine. It was yakisoba — a classic Japanese noodle dish — served by a street vendor. Although it was a simple introduction to global fare, he embraced not only the flavors and aromas but also the sights and sounds that accompanied that bowl.
“I was 19- or 20-years-old, so I was not nearly as into food like I am now. And it was what I could afford. No extravagant meals back then,” Ruggiero recalls. “Just to experience the culture, the vendors on the streets, it was totally different.”
At the base, it was another story. Less craveable options abounded. Powdered eggs that were mixed with water, scrambled to look like the real fluffy deal, were among the most memorable. And not in a good way.
“It’s like instant boxed mashed potatoes but with eggs,” says Ruggiero, who heavily seasoned his with salt and pepper. “But back then, you were so hungry you didn’t really care.”
The idea of MREs is often far from appetizing. But Ruggiero’s memories of the portable, shelf-stable Meals Ready to Eat are more forgiving.
Everyone got a pack of 10 MREs to last them a few days, he explains. The wrapping didn’t bear labels or menu-like descriptions, and you got what you got. The mystery was solved when the wrap was torn open. Some meals were good. Others were awful. Discovering his favorite green chile mac always made Ruggiero happy.
But this mealtime ritual also provided a special kind of bonding experience among his colleagues, who got creative with MREs and other goodies they cherished.
“We’d trade with each other. Cheese for peanut butter, Skittles for this or that…” Ruggiero says. “We’d be out in the field, sitting around and creating our own meals.”
When Ruggiero was in Okinawa, he was invited to the home of a fellow Marine and his wife, who was from the Japanese island. He has fond memories of sharing a hot pot meal.
Taking off his shoes upon entering the home, sitting on the floor around a low dining table and having to duck in and out of every room because the low ceilings did not accommodate his 6-foot-5-inch frame are treasured memories of his first international meal at someone’s home.
“You always saw something new and exciting. It was always good to break bread with the locals and share a meal with them and get to know them,” Ruggiero says. “That’s one thing I miss.”

Carilee Fox
Ethics and integrity in the kitchen
When Ruggiero returned home, he entered the mortgage industry. His offices were in the same Scottsdale building as the former Le Cordon Bleu College of Culinary Arts.
“I’d pop my head in and think, ‘Man that looks like so much fun,’” Ruggiero says.
He quit his job and enrolled. After graduating, he began his new career helming kitchens and, eventually, his own restaurants.
One of Ruggiero’s assignments while at Le Cordon Bleu was to write about his most memorable meal. It came at the end of boot camp after what’s called the Crucible, a three-day gauntlet of demanding challenges and exercises designed to test recruits’ physical and mental limits to determine if they have what it takes to be a Marine.
Ruggiero was sent into the field to survive the elements with just two MREs and his training at Camp Pendleton. When he and his team made it through, they were welcomed by bagpipers playing the Marines’ Hymn on the other side of the hill, plus an all-you-can-eat buffet in the chow hall loaded with every kind of classic and favorite breakfast dish known to man. Ruggiero made three trips to the buffet that morning.
“You’re sleep deprived, dehydrated and hungry. By then, you felt like you really earned it,” says Ruggiero, who recalled it being the best breakfast he’d ever had. “I didn’t even care that those were still powdered eggs.”
Ruggiero is a celebrated chef with lauded restaurants. But his military career, his experiences, and what his service taught him remain active components in his life. The name of his restaurant Fire at Will combines both worlds. It is a command used in the military regarding firearms and in kitchens, referencing dishes.
“The way I operate and run kitchens, I’ve been told I can be a little militant,” Ruggiero says with a chuckle. “But the ethics and integrity that I learned in the Marines is what I pass on to my cooks.”
Offering military personnel and veterans 15% off their bill at Hush Public House and Fire at Will is Ruggiero’s way of honoring and thanking those who serve and have served.
“It’s a brotherhood… something I did and am able to share with fellow veteran brothers and sisters,” Ruggiero says. “It’s something I’m always a part of that can’t be taken away.”