A Less Blue Christmas

Okay, okay, I’m starting to feel a little more jolly.

After a 14-day ultrahardcore zero-contact quarantine (with a tremendous thank you to Dr. Doux’s colleagues for springing her long enough to make that possible), we shuttled on over to see some family for Christmas. Even if it weren’t for the decorations, and even if it weren’t Grandma and Grandpa, just being around some other people for the first time since March is tough not to feel good about.

Hardcore cynicism softened, at least for the moment. I’m building towards some straight talk where Phoenix food media is concerned, both to vent and also because I hope to hear what you think. But we’ll save that for next year.

Right now, it’s New Year’s Eve... and you know what that means...

A very special super-listy edition of Something to Doux!!!

The Deliciousness of 2020

Back in early September, as I watched all of my Gannett IT credentials wink out one by one, I knew there would be many things I would miss, and at least one thing I would not. To wit: I said that I’d be happy if I never wrote another food list again for the rest of my life.

I meant that. Mmmmmmostly. I like doing food lists in the sense that I derive satisfaction from doing something I think I’m pretty good at. But I hate doing food lists for... well, a shitton of reasons that I’ll save for the previously foreshadowed ranty rant yet to come.

That said, there’s no way in hell I’m ditching this tradition. (And one other... read on.)

Grilled Mackerel

Shimogamo

I swear, total chance that random.org’s first pick might also be my favorite food photo of the year. But appearances aside, there’s nothing fancy going on here. It’s a trimmed and filleted mackerel, seasoned and grilled with a sliver of lemon and a dab of grated daikon and soy. And it was done...... just...... so. Delicate flesh and crisp, smoky skin with that heady mackerel flavor, but meticulously tamed — not drifting into funky. Absolute bare bones accompaniment, not a damn thing to distract from the fish. I plated, shot and ate this in the back of my car and it was cussing glorious.

Chicken Katsu Taco

Loco Style Grindz

This was technically last December, but newspaper deadlines being what they are, there are always a few weeks that end up getting lumped in with the next year. Fear not, thusly freed from professional media constraints, the line has been properly redrawn on December 31st. But damnit, the tacos from Loco Style Grindz belong on this list, and just because I ate them on December 17, 2019, I am NOT leaving them off. I know this looks like a godawful mess, and you’re not wrong, it is, but believe me... that’s a feature, not a bug. Oh my god, was this good. The plate lunch is the thing, I know, and it should be, but the Taco Tuesdays... you guys, these are almost too much joy to handle. Sizzled up cheesy tortillas, some fresh veg and a tart tomatillo salsa, a hefty drizzle of spicy aioli, and there, at the core, the audible crunch of steaming, crisp chicken katsu. No-holds-barred, overindulgent and stupid good. At the end of the meal, to quote my son, “I am sad that there is no longer any room inside of me for more tacos.”

Salad of Roasted Honeynut Squash

FnB

Classic, classic Charleen. Stupid good produce, unfussy presentation, manipulated juuuuuuust enough to make it interesting without getting in the way of the ingredients’ essential nature. Plus, it sure doesn’t hurt that I’m a sucker for pears (Asian, in this case). Man, did I love this — salt against sweet, a little splash of vinegar, tender squash set against those cool, crunchy pears, crackling pancetta crisps and just a little zip of fresh jalapeño. What I love is that a dish like this seems kind of simple and obvious and effortless. But if it were really that easy, why doesn’t everybody do it? So much thought and wisdom goes into those “simple” dishes — knowing what to pair with what, getting the balance just right, figuring which little accent is going to light the whole dish up. This was fabulous.

Jhol Momo

Sherpa Kitchen

Urrrgh, sometimes the year’s deliciousness is a bittersweet affair. I think the last time I celebrated a fantastic new opening and mourned its untimely passing in the same year-end list was Zaidi’s Grill back in 2012, and I’m still feeling the hurt of losing that one. Thankfully, the Yadavs are still around cooking take-and-make, but damnit, this restaurant deserved a better shake. So much good stuff on the menu, but the jhol momo is the one I keep coming back to. It’s a clumsy analogue, but I kind of think of these beauties as reverse soup dumplings... you cut them open and the delicate filling sucks up a torrent of broth, saturating them with a rich, round and deeply comforting flavor. This is soul food right here. Here’s hoping it makes a comeback.

Pasta e Fagioli

Pane Bianco Van Buren

Speaking of restaurants that opened and closed in the same year. Oy. I suppose this one technically doesn’t count, since the original location remains. But PBVB was its own unique animal, and I was so stinkin’ excited to see where it would go. Maybe that menu comes back some day, and if it does, I hope the pasta e fagioli does too. This was like the Italian dish’s chonky cousin (and let’s be honest, pasta e fagioli was already pretty chonky). Sub in rigatoni corti for ditalini, fortify those cannellini with some tepary and pinto beans, add a shot of Sonoran chiltepín and you’ve got a Southwestern bruiser of a take on the dish. Damn, this was good.

Green Chile Burrito

Little Miss BBQ Sunnyslope

If you’ve been following since Vol. I, you probably saw this one coming. Yes, it took me until August 2020 to try Scott Holmes’ green chile burro. And yes, I regret every fucking month I didn’t get one before then. It’s almost a little unfair, how good this is. I mean, there are some great green chile burros around town, and places that have painstakingly built reputations and loyal fanbases around those green chile burros. And here comes some cheery, impossible to dislike barbecue dude who thinks to himself, “Hey, maybe I’ll throw a burrito on the menu just for shits and giggles,” and it’s like the blessed apotheosis of the form descended from the heavens and crash landed in Sunnyslope. If you’ve been putting it off, don’t be me. Just eat this thing already. (P.S. If anybody figures out a way to get an attractive shot of a soupy burrito, plz advise.)

Jerk Chicken

The Breadfruit & Rum Bar

If it were just the chicken, that would be enough — scented with habanero, allspice, thyme and cloves, thick with pimento smoke and as beautifully balanced as it is brash. But honestly, what took Danielle Leoni’s jerk chicken over the top for me was the veg. I just freaking loved that madcap, chaotic jumble of roasted delights, a mix of roots and tubers and alliums and greens, simply seasoned and gorgeously charred. Put together, the dish just had a kind of IDGAF charm, completely unconcerned with putting on airs, content to be kind of irreverent and disheveled, and yet brimming with total confidence because it absolutely knew it could deliver where it counts — big, bold, beautiful flavor that wants for nothing more than a bottle of ginger beer.

Yam Sai Bai

Lom Wong

No joke, I could fill this entire list with stuff I picked up from Lom Wong this year if I didn’t make it a rule to spread the love around. I have desperately missed Thai food like this since moving to Phoenix, and suddenly there it is, every Friday, a five-minute drive from home. Picking one dish is agonizing, but I’m going to go with the Yam Sai Bai, a recipe Yotaka and Alex learned from the Moklen, a community of indigenous ethnic minorities in Southern Thailand. This dish is SO not what people in Phoenix expect of Thai food, and that is precisely the point. It’s a seaweed salad, spiced with prik kaeng, tossed with shallots, cilantro, toasted coconut shavings and tiny, crispy little anchovies. The vibrant and varied flavors, the wild, contrasting textures, the fact that it is so delicious and so unlike anything else you can get in this town... that Yotaka and Alex are only just getting started on this journey is, for me, the most exciting thing to happen in the Phoenix food scene in 2020, and it isn’t close.

Cornish Hen Kabob

Kabob Grill 'n Go

Okay, Phoenix, I’m a little mad at you for this one. Not because you’ve packed the place since I wrote about it, making it harder to get their food. That doesn’t bother me. I believe in sharing. Open source dining 4eva. (And people as sweet as the Chilingaryans deserve it.) I’m mad that they had to take my favorite freaking kabob off the menu because apparently people were complaining about bones. Why on earth would you complain about this?!? You guys, succulent juicy Cornish hen, marinated just so, grilled to a complex, smoky char over live mesquite coals, sizzling and sweet with a pair of zippy sauces and damnit I will track down every last one of you who made this an issue....... *sigh*....... The upshot is that every freaking kabob on the menu is almost as good. Still, here’s hoping for the triumphant return of the Cornish hen.

Korokke Curry

Umami Tokyo Curry

I know, I know, it’s a curry delivery joint housed in a sketchy Tempe ghost kitchen, and I DON’T CARE. There was already a serious conversation to be had about how the ways we find and acquire stellar food are changing, and that conversation has suddenly taken on added urgency, and, I mean... Exhibit A right here, yo. Yes, kare raisu is low-brow comfort food, but fuck if it isn’t something truly special when somebody puts serious care into it. I have no idea what all is going on in Nobu Kobayashi’s brew — certainly some kombu, shiitake and bonito, maybe some fruit (Apple? Banana?), the usual complement of spices — but whatever it is, man, is it good. Add some crisp and smooshy korokke, a sprinkling of fukujinzuke and pickled baby leek bulbs that I could snack on all day and man, I just adore this place.

Oh, What The Hell

Here's ten more:

Inasal Manok

A tag team effort that produced gorgeously tender grilled chicken with a killer lacquer and a punchy vinegar-shallot sauce.

Shengjianbao

Sorry, it’s in Vegas. But next time you’re there, you need these fried pork buns. We tried — literally — the very first plate the restaurant sold, and if that’s their warmup... holy shit.

Linguiça and Peekytoe Crab Skiaccia

Ho hum, another fresh bread and seafood stunner from Claudio Urciuoli. But this one was extra special, its sizzling-crisp Arcadia Meat Market sausage tamed by cool, sweet Nelson’s peekytoe crab.

Foie Gras and Onions

Liver and onions. Get it? Man, I dug Ryan Swanson’s foie, taking a smart and thoughtful savory angle rather than the standard issue fat + sweet formula.

TFC Bun

I mean, we’ve long established that I’m basically a sucker for fried chicken in sweet, syrupy fish sauce, so this was kind of predictable. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t objectively outstanding.

Roasted Pork Belly

On his way out of town, Cullen Campbell slung a few dishes on the DL for those closely watching his Facebook account, and damned if this luscious cut with crackling skin, soft polenta and wild mint vin wasn’t a helluva bittersweet farewell.

Lemon-Basil Rhino Croissant

Sweet Jesus, does Nathas Kraus know what he’s doing. Gorgeous crisp pastry with just a tiny sliver of sweet citrus own the middle that sings like a coloratura hammering high A.

Jin Toop

It was a close call between this and the Moklen seaweed salad. The beef is lovely, but the flavor I can’t shake is that brilliantly fragrant dusting of crisp dried galangal and chiles. Wow.

Orange Loukaniko Sandwich

Sneaky, these guys. Tucked into a joint that looks like every other gyro shop in town is some juicy fresh pork sausage with a smoky scent and a killer snap. Leek? Orange? I’m leaning orange.

Bun Cha Ha Noi

More fish sauce, if a little less punk rock. The herbs are lush, the skewers are fabulous, but those meatballs, man... so succulent and juicy with a little hint of smoky char.

Even during a year like this one... so much wonderful stuff out there, if you care to look.

Naming The Band

And finally, before I put lists to bed for a year (fingers crossed), here’s the only year-end list that ever *really* matters.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the top ten band names taken from actual phrases uttered in the course of discussing food and restaurants in 2020:

Number Ten:

Extra Kefta

Number Nine:

H Mart Bureau

Number Eight:

Liquid Pig

Number Seven:

Units of Lunch

Number Six:

Throwing Soup

Number Five:

So Many Tacos

Number Four:

Lil' Noodle Nub

Number Three:

Churroscuro

Number Two:

Chonky Pickle

Yesterday's Sandwich

“Thank you, Phoenix! We are Yesterday’s Sandwich! Good night!”

Can We End This Year Already?

A thought.

Even for the most fortunate — and it would be criminally oblivious not to count myself among them — this year has been equal parts exhausting and bizarre. And that’s on its veryveryvery best days. How so many people are (or aren’t) getting by, I just have no idea, and I won’t pretend to.

This is me working through the guilt I feel for the support I’ve received. Bottom line is that I left a big, fancy, high-profile job because it just didn’t feel right anymore. For a whole lot of reasons. And I had that luxury. (See: guilt, above.)

But lo and behold, there are still people out there who feel that my work has enough value — even in this rough-hewn, discombobulated, navel-gazing format — to let me invade their inbox. Multiple times, even!

TL;DR: Thank you. Still no idea what the hell I’m going to do with myself. But so long as anybody cares, for the time being at least, I’ll keep doing this.