Category Archives: Restaurants

16th Street

09 Sunday Oct 2016

Posted by in Art in Arizona, Eating out in Arizona, Food, Mexican food, Restaurants, Uncategorized

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Faithful readers of this blog (thank you!) know that Speedy and I don’t go out to eat very often. Speedy’s skill at stove and oven makes almost everything else seem pedestrian at best and second-rate at worst. A visit from a dear Swiss friend was the impetus for us to break our usual practice and venture forth for a meal, in this case lunch.

Our friend needed to be at the airport at 3, so we decided to look for a place near Sky Harbor (I love that name for an airport – don’t you? So friendly, but somehow exciting too). Speedy did his research and came up with La Santisima on 16th Street in Phoenix. It is well-reviewed on Yelp, somewhere north of four stars. Not many places do that well, so we felt pretty optimistic.

santisima-restaurant-exteriorIsn’t that a beautiful door? And a mighty fine bench, too. My purse fits right in with the color scheme. Bellas Artes de Mexico has provided all the furnishings and decorations of this pocket-sized eatery.

Our meals certainly exceeded our expectations. I had two house specialty veggie tacos, and they were sublime. Clearly the veg were all fresh and had been sauteed just before being generously heaped on two soft double tacos. I chose the plate, so my tacos were accompanied by a 1/3 sized cup of rice – just the right amount – and a splash of refried beans with Mexican cheese melted on top. My plate was hot, though the food on it was tepid – but it was so delicious I didn’t mind. Our friend had the same taco I had; here are poor photos of our two plates (this was actually a photo of the two of us, I’ve deleted us and enlarged the food):

ellys-taco my-tacos

Clearly I wasn’t thinking about taking good foodie pics. But I’m sharing them for two reasons – one, to show you how intelligent the portions are and how truly beautiful the tacos are; and two, to show you just a couple of the salsas from the restaurant’s salsa bar. In addition to the usual pico di gallo, salsa cruda, salsa chipotle, etc., there were salsa di guacamole (top photo on left), salsa di cilantro, and salsa di fresa (strawberry, top photo on right), as well as others I don’t remember.

Speedy ate a pork and beans burrito and reports that it was “very good.” That’s high praise. Our friend declared her taco, “the best taco I have ever eaten in my whole life.” This is a woman with a fair amount of travel, not to mention tacos, under her belt, so you can take her word for it. This was delicious food, and we saw some enticing plates being delivered to nearby tables (very nearby – it’s a small restaurant and they don’t waste space).

Our host, who flew around non-stop, was very kind when we asked him to turn down the music a tad – he immediately complied, which meant we could actually have a delightful conversation with our long not-seen friend.

But I’m not here to write only about the restaurant, as you may guess from the quality of the food photos. I’m here to write about the neighborhood. We’re definitely returning to this top notch restaurant, and I’ll write more about it when we do.

16th Street north of McDowell is on the edge of a largely Hispanic neighborhood (interesting article on cultural diversity of Phoenix here. It includes a map giving percentages of various ethnicities and where they reside). It is not the most elegant neighborhood in Phoenix, but it is surely one of the most artistically interesting that we’ve visited.

art-on-outside-of-shopAfter lunch we took a short stroll – it was in the mid-90’s, too hot to enjoy much of the post-prandial thing. The building above (the sign says Thai Body Healing/TaSen Buddha) houses a little shop that carries woo-woo items, used clothing, and some fun toys for kids. In addition there is a small coffee shop, an art gallery and, in back (beyond the small elevated stage which was surrounded by children’s toys) what might be a sculpture garden or, perhaps, just a place to dump stuff. There was also a bathroom, of which I was in great need at that very moment.

sign-in-the-toilet-stallThis was hanging over the toilet. I’m ashamed to say I did not comply with the upper command. Maybe I was in the wrong room?

Over the sink was this anatomically vague figure, carefully labeled with such diseases as wrenched ankle, broken heart, water on the knee. I don’t know if it’s art or a children’s game. Note the Scrabble tile holders and a basket of tiles; I couldn’t find all the letters I wanted, so my message read “T_AN_  U. I hope it was clear enough.

1008161353other-bathroom-artI’m not sure what this signifies, but I stared at it for a while.

Outside we continued our stroll, and came upon several more wonderful murals. I got good photos of only one of them. I’m sorry to say I don’t know who the artist is – research needed!

ellie-and-louis-in-front-of-muralSpeedy and our friend give scale to the left side of this mural. The rest of it is below. (I know, there is such a thing as a ‘landscape setting,’ but I neglected to use it (not my best photo day, I guess).

rest-of-that-muralThis area definitely demands a return visit to seek out more of the graffiti and mural art. It is not the only part of Phoenix that sports such excellent examples. Katrina Montgomery has documented her 40 favorites in the New Times. I can’t wait to go hunt for some of them. A picture is fine, but to see such a large piece of art in person is really much more fun.

Goin’ to Ghana

20 Monday Jun 2016

Posted by in Eating out in Arizona, Food, Restaurants, Uncategorized

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No, not really – I’m pulling your leg. We’re not going to Ghana.

But not too long ago we felt as if we’d been magically transported to that far-away country. Fufu and Jolof rice and Banku – these are just some of the delicacies on the menu at Max’s Mukhaase Restaurant in Mesa. ‘Mukhaase’ means ‘kitchen’ in Akan, a language spoken in much of the southern half of Ghana. While English is the ‘official’ language of Ghana (population 25.9 million), Akan is the language most widely spoken of the 80+ indigenous languages. If you visit Max’s you are more than a little likely to hear a good bit of it.

Map of Ghana

Max came to the U.S. some fifteen years ago and, he told us, since acquiring a cat, fortune has smiled on him. Being cat-lovers ourselves we are perfectly willing to believe that his feline companion has something to do with his luck.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. How did we even find Max’s Mukaase Restaurant? Through one of those irritating restaurant card promotions, that’s how. In this case, though, it worked out really well. Somehow we came to have a restaurant card that gives 50% off at selected restaurants if you order a certain amount. A doctor’s appointment took us to Mesa, and Speedy researched what restaurants from the card were nearby – and there it was: Max’s! Who could resist? Surely not us.

The menu is not enormous, but it’s varied enough for all tastes, from adventurous (fufu with goat) to cautious (hot dog or beef burger). Isn’t ‘fufu’ a great word? It’s almost as fun as ‘wolof’ (the language of Senegal). Fufu, a staple of Ghanan cuisine, is made from cassava or plantain flour. There are several methods of making it; a common one is to boil the cassava or plantain, and then pound it into a dough-like consistency. Peanuts are another staple on the Ghanan menu; a good peanut soup is hard to beat, and is often eaten with balls of fufu.

I had the Peanut Soup with Rice Balls (and lots of veggies) – scrumptious and very, very filling.

goat and rice balls in peanut soup

Louis opted for the Goat Stew, Waakye, Gari & Salad (Goat meat, Rice, Black Eye Beans, Veggies and Gari; Gari is a kind of pud made from cassava), which he declared divine. In fact, he liked it so much he ordered a second helping to bring home. It did not suffer, he reported, by either its short journey or its wait of a day or two.

goat and rice balls in peanut soup-001

The food would certainly have been enough to draw us back for another visit some day, but even more than the food, the atmosphere was delightful. A pair of young men occupied another table, rapidly speaking a patois that, I assume, was a combination of Akan and English. One of them kept leaping up and running outside to conduct important business on his cell phone, to the bemused patience of his friend. At one point Speedy said to him, “You should be paid for providing entertainment,” and he shouted back to the kitchen, “Hey Max! I eat for free from now on!” Great laughs all around.

Not long after we arrived a young woman in a health-provider uniform arrived and sat at another table. Soon a lively conversation began, mostly in English, on the desirability of legalizing marijuana.  The young woman it turned out, is a pharmacist, and she declared that having seen what marijuana can do, she could never countenance it becoming legal in any way, shape or form. This was a discussion we followed with great interest but in which we sagely decided not to participate.

Overseeing it all, the activity in the kitchen, the spirited conversation, was Max, who is as friendly and accessible as his delicious food. When I asked for a photo with him he disappeared in back and returned wearing his chef’s coat and a toque. I prefer the photo of him hatless, so that is what I share with you, along with a recommendation to visit Max’s Mukhaase Kitchen if you find yourself near Guadalupe and Alma School Roads in Mesa.

Max and Louise-001

McDonalds? Really??

10 Friday May 2013

Posted by in English food, Restaurants, Uncategorized

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English towns, fields and highway

Weren’t we lucky? The sun was shining and we could see the ground when we landed at London’s Heathrow Airport. What a treat to see the tapestry of Merrie Olde England spread out beneath us. It gives one a very clear visual understanding of their Greenbelt philosophy.

We spent the night in London before making the rest of the trip back to Italy.  It’s hard to resist the siren call of good British Beer, consumed by Speedy in this photo at the Wheatsheaf Pub in Harlington, adjacent to the airport.  That man behind him?  Turned out to be very friendly, a sort of Harlington Ambassador.

Louis drinks Doombar in pub

(By the way – a very useful aside – if you find yourself in London and are overstaying at an airport hotel, you do NOT have to take the confiscatory Hoppa buses to your hotel. Free local transport – red doubledecker buses – make the run down Bath Road where many of the airport hotels are. You won’t be dropped at the door, but you will save L 7 for the round-trip.)

London airport hotels are mingy in two ways – 1) you have to pay for the wifi that we’ve all come to depend upon and 2) breakfast may not be included.  It wasn’t in our case, and we didn’t have a lot of options nearby.  However, a little bird whispered in our ears that the McDonalds down the street offered free wifi, and, with a bit of an arcane registration ordeal, it proved to be true.  We decided to kill two birds with one stone (though we spared the kind whisperer) and to take our breakfast at McDonalds in addition to making use of their wifi.

egg mcmuffin

Egg McMuffin! Though they are now called something completely different, I don’t remember what. I have always loved them. The ‘English Muffin’ is but a squishy hint of the real article, and the egg was probably laid by an unhappy hen; but the bacon was delicious! And here’s why:

McD mat

What a shock!  McDonald’s has gone all socially-conscious and responsible on us.  I would never have imagined.  Speedy found the Egg McMuffin odious, but I loved mine (could have done with a bit of mayo, perhaps), but then I have always been a gustatory philistine.  So, the bacon was delish because it came from happy pigs.  And guess what else McD’s is serving:

mcD organic milk

Genuine organic milk!  I note they say nothing about the milk coming from cows who have not been treated with antibiotics and so forth, but oh well.  ‘Organic’ is a start.

But what’s it a start of?  It makes it all so confusing when the companies we, as card-carrying liberals,  are meant to hate (McDonalds, Walmart, etc.) start engaging in behavior we approve of (even Walmart is up to some good, it seems).  I guess all we can do is applaud the steps they are taking, hope for ever more advances (especially for the employees), and enjoy the bacon.

My Visit to Jamaica!

01 Tuesday May 2012

Posted by in Restaurants, Travel, Uncategorized

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No, not the gorgeous Caribbean island, alas.  Speedy and I made our way to Italy via JFK.  We hadn’t been to that airport in years.  And what did we see when we exited the American Airlines terminal?

What a pleasure it was to see the famous terminal designed by Eero Saarinen and completed in 1962 (it’s been closed since 2001).   Readers who know Speedy personally will know that this was his ‘office’ for many years.  It was rather emotional to see the old sign lit up (TWA ceased operations on Dec. 1, 2001, and its assets were acquired by American Airlines which, in an odd twist of fate, is now in reorganization/ bankruptcy.)

After taking a night flight from Arizona and the bus that deposited us at Federal Circle (JFK’s public transportation hub) at 5 a.m. we wanted to sleep for a few hours, but we wanted to stay close to the airport.  Do you know what you can’t do on any of the automated travel services?  You can’t book a day room!  We were so surprised, and not in a good way, because we wanted to check in at about 6 a.m. and check out again at about 3 p.m.  The only way to do it was to call hotels one by one and request a very late check-in from the night before as well as a late check-out.  Many were not willing to accommodate us – the latest check-out they would allow was 2 p.m. – too early for us, as we needed rest before our evening flight to Europe.

The Sleep Inn in Jamaica came to the rescue.

I’ll be honest with you. Jamaica is not exactly the garden capital of greater New  York City.  In fact, it could be described as rather gritty.  But we had a marvelous time there.

First off, the staff at the Sleep Inn were incredibly helpful and friendly.  They sent a carry-van for us as soon as we arrived at Federal Circle, and the same van carried us to the airport on our own schedule that afternoon.  We awoke from our morning nap starving, so we inquired about nearby restaurants.  There’s nothing 4-star in the vicinity, or probably even 1-star, but we ate a delicious breakfast at the Jamao Restaurant, a joint with true island influence. The proprietress is from Domenica, and in addition to normal American breakfasts, she cooks up and serves a large selection of hearty Latin dishes.  Speedy couldn’t resist- after his breakfast sandwich he had a nice helping of lechon.  He didn’t think it was an appropriate breakfast, but it looked so fantastic he had to have a bit of early lunch.  It didn’t disappoint; it was as flavorful and succulent as it looked.

We took our stroll on streets that are mostly commercial, but there are large residential areas.  Jamaica (which has nothing to do with the Caribbean isle of the same name, other than the fact that lots of people from the island live there) was settled by the Dutch in 1656.  Today it is home to some 200,000 people of widely diverse backgrounds.  The ‘white flight’ that took place in the 1970’s is in the process of reversal as some neighborhoods become ‘gentrified.’ Where did the name come from?  The Lenape tribe gave the area their name for ‘beaver,’ which sounded like ‘Jameco’ to the English colonists who took over in 1664, according to Wikipedia.

Our visit centered on Liberty Avenue, which runs parallel to Jamaica Avenue, the main artery of the city.  Here are some ‘postcards’ from our visit to Jamaica:

The walls of the cement plant are the canvas for a block-long painting of what goes on at a cement plant – very colorful and engaging.

If you need anything at all for your car you can buy it on Liberty Avenue.  We must have seen six different auto parts stores.

And if your car is beyond repair, perhaps it will end up at this patriotic establishment.  Nearby there was a large plant for processing ordinary household recyclables.

If you want to learn to be an automobile mechanic you might want to attend the New York Automotive and Diesel Institute, as this group of young men are doing.  To tell you the truth, they gave us quite a start when we walked by.  One of them said, in what seemed to be an aggressive voice, “Where are you going?!”

Gulp.  “Nowhere,” we replied, “we’re just going back to our hotel.”

“Oh, okay,” he said. “I thought maybe you were lost and needed help.”  Well, isn’t that just like Jamaica?  A class act in work clothes.

As we continued we had the pleasure of meeting Shaheem “The Dream” and one of his pals who were getting ready for a spirited handball practice in Detective Keith L. Williams Park (also known as Liberty Park), home of handball courts, tennis courts, basketball courts and, we suspect, a baseball diamond, though we didn’t see that.

They had organized and were preparing for the Park’s first ever Opposites Tournament, designed for men and women to play together (but the men must use their non-dominant hands).  We spent a pleasant ten minutes learning about Shaheem’s prowess on the handball court, and continued on towards the Sleep Inn to prepare for the next leg of our journey. (That’s Shaheem in back wearing gray sweats, a cross and a huge smile.)

The Sleep Inn’s service did not end with our departure.  One of us left our toiletries kit hanging on the back of the bathroom door.  They are mailing it back to us.

In conclusion, while some might look at Jamaica and think this:

we would have to disagree.  Our visit was short, but it was packed with interest and with people who were kind and helpful.  Anytime people offer unsolicited help and conversation in the space of three blocks, you know you have found a real community.  And where else will you find an existential auto?

So if you find yourself needing a quick night’s sleep near JFK and you don’t want to spend a king’s ransom, we recommend the newly built (2010) Sleep Inn.  The rooms are well-appointed, the staff is superb, and the beds are very comfortable.  No, it’s not a five-star hotel, but the service rivals that which you will find at any other hotel.

Two of My Favorite Things: Bookstores and Food

12 Monday Mar 2012

Posted by in Arizona, Books, Food, Restaurants, Uncategorized

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Our friend Mrs. H. recently found a terrific website about restaurants near the stops of the Phoenix Light Rail system.  David Bickford writes generously, entertainingly and cogently about the various eateries, reviewing both food and general ambiance.

While Mam was still here Mrs. H. had the brilliant idea of reading up on some of the stops of the rail and then making a lunchtime field trip. I liked this idea a lot as it combined two activities I really like: riding the light rail, and eating.  Bickford indexes his reviews by restaurant type and by location, so Mam and I spent considerable time poring over the restaurants from the Sycamore Street station to Mill and the ASU campus.

Logo courtesy of Yelp.com

It was our considered opinion that we should visit the MedFresh Grill on Mill Street, because it is the only Turkish restaurant in the Valley, according to both Bickford and the proprietors of the eatery.  Three falafal and chicken kabab plates later we knew we had made the right choice.  It was delicious food, freshly prepared and humbly served.  The falafals were crispy-crisp on the outside, tender on the inside and hot. What I remember most vividly is the very creamy garlic sauce on the side of my plate – it was mostly smushed garlic, but somehow it was made creamy, perhaps by the addition of… cream?  some kind of light, fresh cheese?

Before settling in to overeat we strolled down and then back up Mill Street, the commercial street at the heart of the ASU campus.  There you can find the usual assortment of collegy stores – headshops, music shops, outfitters, and so forth. But you also find what is becoming rarer and rarer these days: a bookstore!

Old Town Books (the proprietors of which can be seen in the top photo above) has been in this location for about twenty years, and outlived Borders, the mega-bookstore that used to be down the street (now Urban Outfitters).  Mrs. H. noticed a copy of a very important book on golf that Speedy didn’t have yet; I was able to pick it up for $4, and he swears it has added 20 yards to his drive!  Mrs. H. found a lovely book of photographs of houses along the James River.  Oddly enough, Mam had grown up along that very river, and was able to tell Mrs. H. odd scraps of news about some of the homes pictured.

So.  Independent Booksellers.  What are the odds they’ll survive?  My guess is the odds are good, at least for the foreseeable future.  Many of them sell both new and used books, sometimes side by side, as in this bookstore that we visited on our way home.

Some serve niche subjects, religion or mysteries, for example.   All are owned and/or operated by people who are passionate about books and who seem always to have the time to interrupt whatever they’re doing and talk about them.

Amazon and Googlebooks are challenging the big box bookstores such as Borders (now in bankruptcy) and Barnes and Noble (rumored to be for sale).  But the smaller indies have stock that is not always readily available online, and have devoted patrons who want to keep their neighborhood bookstores afloat.  The Book-Buyer’s Guide to New, Used and Antiquarian Bookstores in the Phoenix Valley lists no fewer than 36 stores.  Some are open by chance or by appointment (Machine Age); some have large staffs and come close to looking like a big box store (Changing Hands).

Then there are the hybrids, the stores we access online but which seem to be independents.  You can find them at thriftbooks.com (free shipping!) or abebooks.com.  Both sites list the book I bought Speedy for pretty much what I paid for it.  The thriftbooks site is more forgiving of bad spelling (is it Pinnick or Penick??) than abebooks.  And of course all the local indies have web-sites, though they don’t list all their book stock.

The bottom line?  There’s nothing more pleasurable then setting out to find some good food and coming across a good bookstore at the same time.  And if you go to your local bookstore rather than sitting at home with your computer  you may well have an adventure.  We did (we always do when we ride the Light Rail).  We met a well-groomed and neatly turned out woman carrying a cat in a handsome carrier.  I engaged her in conversation about her pet, a gleaming black puss with yellow eyes.

“He’s a leopard,” she told me.

“Really?!” I replied, thinking surely she meant ‘panther.’

We bantered back and forth, me asking questions and she answering them. By  the time we parted I had learned that she had found her kitty in the desert, the runt of a litter, and that scientists had dumped the kittens out in the desert after creating them by hybridizing a leopard with a schnauser, a pig and some other animal none of us can remember!   To say we were amazed to learn about this scientific accomplishment is an understatement.  We will never have such an animal because they cost $10,000 if you buy them, if you can find them.  Our new friend counted herself extremely lucky to have found hers in the wild.

But I digress, as usual.  Bookstores and restaurants – you’re almost sure to be entertained and satisfied if you visit ones you’ve never been to before.  Just watch out for the panthers.

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia