Well, Poop

We were supposed to spend the last two weeks in Japan, but — stop me if you’ve heard this one — COVID had other plans for us.

Now, I could’ve cursed my misfortune and spent my vacation complaining about all the ways this town takes a chainsaw to Japanese food culture. And that’s exactly what I did. A lot.

But after spending months amping up for an orgiastic cavalcade of sushi, soba, oden, donburi and the like, that energy had to go somewhere other than griping. So once I got over my bitterness, the kids and I found ourselves trying to make the best of the situation by cramming an unusual amount of local Japanese favorites into a two-week window.

Contain your shock: Phoenix is not Japan. But the truth — which I manage to see in my less cranky moments — is that for all of the truly godawful Japanese restaurants in this town, there’s also some excellent stuff to be found these days if you know where to look.

2022’s Cold Noodle Summer meant ten zaru udon at Sushi Sen at least once a week, but it turns out their nabemono — hot soups and stews for colder months — are also a strength. It seems we’re the only Sushi Sen regulars who want to have dinner on the patio in December, but a little chill in the air just feels right along with a kettle of kani zosui. It’s a restorative stew loaded with rice and snow crab, flowing ribbons of egg and a tangle of wakame. It’s light, delicate, and like so many great Japanese dishes, a beautiful expression of the sea.

More indulgent is the wagyu sukiyaki. It’s a bit of a splurge. Even domestic wagyu doesn’t come cheap these days. But it’s such a comforting hotpot — silky beef, tofu and cabbage gently simmered in a sweet soy broth. The squishy-firm texture of revived shiitakes makes them the kind of prized morsels you save for just the right moment. And then a tangle of shirataki noodles sneaks up from the depths, with a little body and crunch.

Ramen progress tends to come in fits and starts, and I feel as though we’ve recently leveled up again. Origami Ramen has become a regular stop, and much as I try to explore the menu I keep coming back to the Origami Red — their take on tantanmen — fiery and sweet with a thick, creamy broth, topped with misofied pork soboro and a crapton of crunchy toasted peanuts. Meanwhile, the black sesame ramen at downtown’s Kaisen (NOT Kaizen) is no fricking joke. It’s as deep and intense as it looks. And my change of pace dish there is a damn fine tonkatsu curry with a swirl of barely-set egg on top.

red ramen (tantanmen) at Origami Ramen     |     black sesame ramen at Kaisen                     

I’m going to cheat a little, since I didn’t place my order for Hana Japanese Eatery’s osechi-ryōri in time this year. If you want to get technical about it, this box isn’t bento, it’s jūbako. But the premise is the same — a compartmentalized presentation of little bits and nibbles that are traditional for the new year. Simmered bamboo, carrots, konnyaku and lotus root. Shrimp, kamaboko and marinated kombu. Tender fish, chewy little dried sardines, marinated black soybeans... they’re all deep with enough tradition and symbolism to fill the entire newsletter.

osechi-ryōri from Hana Japanese Eatery

Apache Junction is decidedly NOT where I had planned to spend my holiday, but damned if there isn’t a decent Japanese restaurant in the last place you expect. Momo no Hana is a scrappy little joint, hidden in a big, dusty strip mall with no signage of any kind. Just a nondescript storefront that’s three-quarters kitchen and one-quarter bright orange dining room with a few tables and a small bar. What they lack in décor they make up for with energy. The fellow running the counter has the telltale singsong of a native Japanese speaker, plus a flair for drama that hints at Broadway ambitions.

clockwise from left: sake ochazuke with salmon, rice, green tea, sprouts, rice puffs and wasabi at Momo no Hana  |  oyakodon with rice, chicken and egg at Momo no Hana  |  tonkatsu curry with egg swirl at Kaisen

Though the restaurant be tiny, the menu is huge. (Why do Japanese restaurants here feel compelled to make EVERYTHING?) The quality is predictably hit and miss, but even the misses are correct — when they aren’t especially good, they still taste right. The okonomiyaki is overly wet and the curry is straight from the box. But the oyakodon is simple and perfect — warm and sweet and exactly what you want from Japanese homestyle cooking. And it took long enough, but I finally found somebody who’s serving ochazuke — a mound of rice bathed in a broth made with green tea, flecked with sprouts and rice crisps and a little dab of wasabi. Wish fulfilled, great dish, no notes.

On the more refined end of the spectrum, the recently revived Shimogamo 2.0 continues to send out some truly impressive dishes. The nigiri is great, yes, but where else in town are you getting nanbanzuke? Here’s a thick slab of mackerel, fried to a light crisp and bathed in a sweet-sour dressing, buried beneath pickled carrots, onions and peppers. And they make is a pretty flipping outstanding steak katsu, cool and juicy in the center, served with the requisite bundle of finely shaved cabbage and thick miso dip of sweet, sweet umami.

saba nanbanzuke with mackerel, curry powder and red vinegar marinated vegetables at Shimogamo

And then there’s Sushi Nakano, which continues to inspire an incongruous mix of ecstasy and anger. Leo has re-opened the doors after a four-month hiatus, and I’m once again reminded just how far ahead of the curve he is in this town. Note to other Phoenix sushi bars: With a scant few exceptions, you should all be embarrassed. Seriously. You should just feel bad. And that’s where the anger comes in. Not to diminish Nakano’s experience and skill, but why is this so hard? Why aren’t other places even *trying* to do this? Go eat at Nakano. Do better.

In any case, our timing was perfect. We slipped in and stole the seats right in front of Leo’s station on a quiet night when he had the bandwidth to chat and play around and have a little fun.

kurodai nigiri  |  salmon nigiri with plum sauce  |  smoked aji nigiri at Sushi Nakano

Yes, the procession of simple nigiri was luminous, but what I appreciate so much about Leo’s work is that he doesn’t have to pound you over the head with a dozen brash ingredients to make a creative statement. Our salmon nigiri came with a little dab of house-made sweet-tart plum sauce and an airy tuft of shiso, giving it a playful and pungent lift. A slab of kurodai already has a naturally robust flavor, so he leaned right into it. He gave it a quick scorch for some brûléed depth and a splash of soy from a tub that was more kombu than liquid, resulting in a deep, dark, brooding piece of goth nigiri. And smoke is so often overdone, I love how he handled a piece of aji — sent into a sauna with a puff of singed applewood, emerging minutes later with a pronounced but very sweet, clean, smoky lilt.

Want a cut roll? Tough shit. Leo doesn’t make them. He tells me that diners frequently walk in, learn that he doesn’t do rolls, and walk right out. (This is why we can’t have nice things, people.) But he’ll do temaki, an underappreciated sushi format that is finally getting its due. Hand rolls are such a wonderful way to go — rice that’s gently rolled rather than being packed in tight, a leaf of fresh nori that stays crisp and light, and fillings that have some room to breathe and move and jump around on your palate. Leo’s zuke maguro temaki was a delight — slivers of marinated tuna wrapped in fragrant fresh shiso. And the more I have, the more I find myself appreciating ikura, particularly when its gently cradled in a robe of warm rice.

There is no substitute for eating your way across Japan. There just isn’t. But our twice-postponed trip will eventually happen. Someday. And in the meantime, man... I find myself deeply appreciating the folks who make the postponements hurt a little less.

The Deliciousness of 2022

Everybody knew this was coming. I know I haven’t sent a newsletter in over six months, but you all know I'm far too obsessive to let a seventeen year streak die, right? Hahayeah, of course you do.

My dining about town might have been a little less varied this year. It’s nice to be able to return to favorites on a regular basis, and I intend to continue exercising the privilege. But there’s no shortage of deliciousness to share.

To those who might be catching this for the first time, The Deliciousness is not and has never been a best list. These are all excellent dishes, yes. But rather than present it as some objective assessment, it’s just my opportunity to think about the bites that I tried for the first time this year that stuck in my brain and left me with rapturous thoughts, for one reason or another.

And so, traditionally presented in order determined by random.org, The Deliciousness of 2022:

Chilled Melon and Tomato Gazpacho

Local Bistro

Sometimes a dish pulsates with the kind of energy that can only come from the cosmic alignment of planetary bodies. Though always delicious, this gazpacho wasn’t quite the same before or since May 7, 2022, and I will leave it to the more astrologically inclined to figure out what the hell happened that night. It just sang. Lush tomato sweetened by crisp melon, hit with just the right balance of spice and vinegar to give it a little zing, emulsified with Spanish olive oil and dotted with Marcona almonds. Pure summer, in early spring.

Falafel Taco

Casa de Falafel

Okay, hear me out. I know this looks like a goopy mess. And yes, it embarrasses me to admit that what sticks with me is not the falafel plate with a cornucopia of vegetables, nor the stately falafel wrap in pressed bread, but... here’s the deal. My son now attends school directly across the street from Casa de Falafel, so I have been blessed with the opportunity to eat a lot of it. A lot. And the only reason I tried the taco was because the folks behind the counter insisted on giving me one. (I paid them back later. They don’t know it. I’m sneaky that way.) But while this sounds like some kind of gimmick, the taco has all the same components as the wrap except for one key difference — because they aren’t pressed, the vegetables stay icy crisp and that contrast with the hot falafel is just divine. Trust me.

Gyusuji Curry Nikomi

Nanaya Japanese Kitchen

I’ve made no secret of my frustrations with Nanaya. To their credit, they’re really trying to break out of Phoenix’s faux-izakaya rut. It doesn’t always work, but when it does, sometimes magic emerges. Oh lordy, was this dish magical. Big ups for having the stones to throw down an intense beef curry laden with tender chunks of beef tendon. Look, you don’t know until you try, right? And if you’re going to give it a try, this is the perfect way to do it. Sometimes it’s a little slurpy, like bone marrow, and sometimes it has a kind of firm but yielding bite, but on top of being a damn fine curry, the tendon was treated with tremendous skill. There’s a fancypants dressed up version of the dish in the entrees, but I say screw that. Get the little cup of curry appetizer, a little bowl of rice, find something pickled, and go to town.

Andhra Masala Dosa

City of Spice

I went to try City of Spice. And then I went the next week. And the next week. And the week after that. And after doing this for a couple of months, I managed to work my way through roughly half the menu, and I don’t think I’ve enjoyed a South Asian restaurant this much since Zaidi’s closed. City of Spice operates more on chutzpah than refinement, but these dishes are bright and bold and above all they taste fresh. I just keep coming back to try more, and if you make me pick one, I guess I’ll pick the Andhra masala dosa — perfectly crisp, smeared with a thin layer of vinegary tomato- based fire, a delicate, lacy bunker buster of a dish. But really, there are a dozen dishes I could have put in here. I recommend you try a bunch.

White and Black Truffle Potato

Binkley's

My kids are cool with truffle oil, but I keep telling them that someday they will savor a dish heavily laden with the unique, powerful scent of real truffles, and from that day forward they will be completely ruined. And it would’ve been the end of their innocence, so to speak, had they been along for dinner at Binkley’s. No secrets, no bullshit. Just white truffle whipped potatoes, black truffle gnocchi, and a potato leek soup that intermingles the two. Good lord, I am dead.

Hot Dawg

Chula Seafood — Roosevelt

Damnit, chef. I appreciate that Kyle Kent has way too many ideas in his head to let his specials go up on the board more than once or twice, and our chefs need the space to create and try new things and I want to support that and I don’t want to be That Guy, but FFS, dude, can we PLEASE have this one back? This is Kyle’s Seattle dog — a freaking pastrami-spiced scallop sausage with perfect balance and a gorgeous, meaty snap with grilled onions and jalapeños and everything cream cheese. And this is the problem. You can’t ever miss a one-off dish at Chula because you might miss something like this. Every throwaway one-day special could be an incredible concoction that comes out of nowhere and blindsides you. A menu of Kyle Kent’s Greatest Hits would burn this town down, and leading the mob would be this freaking sausage that I can’t stop thinking about. Damn you, Kyle.

Scallop Crudo

Nelson's Meat + Fish

Yes, I have a thing for scallops. The crew over at Nelson’s has been turning out a new crudo every Thursday, and — no exaggeration — the worst one I tried was excellent and the best... well, I’m not going to say best, but they might as well have custom-designed this one for me. Cool, sweet scallops, slivers of tart Granny Smith apple, an emulsion of cider vinegar and killer olive oil and a dash of Aleppo pepper on top is so deeply my jam that I didn’t even follow this one with a full lunch the way I normally would. I wanted to just let it ling

Squash Salad

Espíritu Cocktails + Comida

“Fishy Bacanora” probably isn’t fair, but yes, Espíritu is every bit as good as its older brother. And just as with Bacanora, the proteins may hog the spotlight, but those vegetable specials will sneak up on you. Pairing roasted butternut squash with piloncillo and a smoldering stick of cinnamon is about as subtle as shouting “HELLO I AM A FALL DISH,” but the balance on this salad, oh man. Those intense flavors balanced with crisp watercress and a bed of queso fresco, this balance of sweet and creamy, warm and cool... dynamite dish.

Yam Makhuea Yao Pow

Lom Wong

I kinda feel like I should just book a spot for Lom Wong on The Deliciousness for the next five years, because I don’t see any signs that I’m going to be any less thrilled with Yotaka and Alex’s stuff anytime soon. Let’s see... this year I’ll piiiiiiiiiiiiiiick... THIS one. An eggplant salad bolstered with pork chiles, Chinese celery and a bunch of aromatics, yes, but this one brings down the hammer — lush texture with an intense sweet-sour punch and a heavy dose of smoke to boot. Big and brash and layer upon layer and man, I hope to catch this one again before it’s gone.

West Coast Pastrami Sandwich

Little Miss BBQ — University (Kinda)

Okay, I might be cheating a bit here. LMBBQ provided the pastrami and the cole slaw, and I provided the rest — Swiss, homemade Russian, a loaf of Noble deli rye and a Searzall. But sometimes if you want something done, you have to do it your damn self. I’m still waiting for a pastrami sandwich that’s anything less than disappointing. (Can’t wait to try Little Pickle... fingers crossed.) But in the meantime, Pastrami Thursdays and a little can-do spirit will more than just suffice. Scott’s pastrami makes for one helluva sandwich. Maybe I’ll set up a stand in the parking lot.

Distant Deliciousness of 2021

Yes, I am still bitter that we didn’t get to go to Japan. But still, where vacation eats are concerned, I did a little too well this year to complain. Case in point:

Nitro Roasted Potatoes

Swagyu — San Diego

Swagyu was a bizarre little burger shop with ultrapremium meats and skewers that I probably wouldn’t go back for except that they came with some of the most incredible fried potatoes it has ever been my pleasure to sample. I’d heard of nitro potatoes before, but man, I had no idea. The nitro freeze sucks the moisture out of the outer layer while kind of fracturing and fluffing the surface, so when the potatoes hit the oil the outer few millimeters become this airy, ultracrisp lattice with a fluffy, steaming core. The texture is just wild, and Swagyu is worth a stop just for these fellas.

Taramasalata

Callie — San Diego

Callie deserves its reputation as one of the city’s toughest tables, and our dinner was excellent top to bottom. That said, my brain is still a little hung up on the taramasalata, a kind of mondernist spin on the classic Greek dip. Here, it’s whipped as light as air, and served with house chips imbued with a pucker-inducing hit of lemon and... well... a LOT of dill. Y’know, chip and dip. Just explosively so.

Tortilla Española

Casa Dani — Madrid, Spain

Two weeks in Japan was a bust, but my son and I somehow pulled off two days in Madrid. (Long story.) I’m a little embarrassed to admit that for once, my research failed me and it wasn’t a particularly notable eating trip. Casa Dani, however, was worth every minute of an hour-plus wait, in no small part because of this tortilla Española. Just look at the texture of this thing — set around the outside, and nothing but potato-studded eggy goo in the middle. My kid eschews soft-cooked eggs, but I think he got this one. If I can figure out how to do this at home, it’s going to be a problem.

Tomato Kimchi and Burrata Bukkake

Kamonegi — Seattle

Every single dish I tried at Kamonegi could be on this list. Every. Single. One. And I was mighty tempted to pick the spoonful of house-cured ikura that I requested for dessert. I will dream about that for a long time. But for Seattle’s premier soba shop, a soba dish just felt right. I cannot express how perfect this was — the plump sweetness of late summer tomatoes, perfect creamy burrata, a bit of fermented spice to contrast. But at the heart is the noodles. Those noodles. The flavor and the bite... there is nothing like fresh hand-made soba when it’s done well, and this place is a treasure.

Campechana Baja Seafood Cocktail

Mitch's Seafood — San Diego

It’s possible I was blinded by the gleaming view of the bay and serenaded by a flock of squawking seagulls, but I’m pretty sure this campechana was really just as good as I remember it. Mitch’s keeps things pretty simple, and there’s nothing more here than a mix of perfect seafood in a balanced sweet and tart tomato sauce with a touch of spice. Anything more would have been a distraction.

Funk Soul Brothers

I get it. I understand why Marmite and Vegemite are punchlines. I see why so many people are horrified that entire nations consider them food products, much less desirable ones. But here’s the thing.

I get it.

Like, I get the appeal. I’m a convert. And it didn’t take long. My T-Day gravy called for a spoonful of Marmite, and I looked forward to giving the infamous British concoction a try. Couldn’t find it in time, but then, a week later, there it was. On the shelf at Lee Lee, of all places. And I figured, why the hell not?

It took two slices of toast with a thin sheen of Marmite and (a LOT of) butter, but I’m hooked. I totally love the stuff. I’m told, thirdhand, that another food writer once referred to it as “soy sauce, but too much,” and I think that’s apt. My first thought was soy sauce too. Or perhaps more accurately, a concentrated essence that would produce an entire bottle of soy sauce if you added enough water to a quarter teaspoon of the stuff. But it’s more than that. It’s aggressively sour, umami-rich, a little yeasty and a lot bitter. And it is delightfully complex and plays incredibly well with butter.

I tried tossing some into my popcorn maker, and that... yeah, that didn’t end well. Turns out Marmite burns pretty easily. Not my best idea. Scratch one Whirley-Pop.

But I bought another Whirley-Pop, added a small spoonful of Marmite to my butter, tossed that with the already-popped popcorn and DAMN it is delicious.

You’d never know to taste it, but Vegemite strikes me as the mellower of the two — more salty, but with a rounder flavor, and a wackyload easier to spread. Less industrial byproduct, more wacky culinary experiment. For better or worse.

All I know is that this requires further experimentation. You’ve been warned not to write it off.

(Also probably a good idea not to pick sides. Ask me how I know.)

Bonus Deliciousness

Seafood Pancake

Sizzle — Old Town Scottsdale
A bit of a cheat. This one’s been on the menu since its inception, but the retooled it this year and it’s a completely different dish. It’s become my personal platonic ideal of haemul pajeon — a bit of glutinous chew, tons of plump seafood, and a sizzling crisp crust.

Hot Chicken Leg Quarter

Crazi's Hot Chicken
Well it’s about effing time. Crazi’s has long been my favorite local source for Nashville hot, and they finally buckled to my harassment and started offering chicken with actual bones. It’s just great.

Crispy White Melon Burrata

Obon Bisutoro
Both delicious and clever, this was kind of a brilliant Korean spin on prosciutto e melone. I’m just sad they were out of the jamon serrano add-on that night, because man, that would have capped it.

Maialino Arrosto

Andreoli Italian Grocer
It’s downright shameful that I’d never managed to visit Andreoli for their Christmas Festa before this year. And you will be utterly unsurprised to learn that Giovanni can roast a suckling pig like nobody else.

Caramel Pork Rib

Binkley's
Oh, man. Tender pork rib deboned and glazed with a crisp caramelized onion caramel, set in chestnut puree and accented with ancho chile oil. A heartstopper, figuratively and literally.

Smoked Short Rib

Atria
I’m not one who’s generally excited by beef with bordelaise and onions, but man, Rochelle Daniel brought a lot of finesse to this one. I’m excited to see what she does up in Flagstaff over the coming years.

Cacio e Pepe Orzo

Hush Public House
As usual, when Hush hits hard, it hits with exceptional execution. Perfect texture, brilliantly intense, and I love that they had the courage to serve it in this portion. A couple bites of this packs more of a wallop than a huge plateful of most.

Gumbo

Zydeco's Louisiana Kitchen
After years of Phoenix’s lackluster cajun/creole scene, here come two excellent pop-up options out of the blue. I had some damn fine stuff at K-Lou’s too, but the dish for my list is Zydeco’s gumbo, deep and complex and just a little bit dank, just as it should be.

Black Sesame Ramen

Kaisen
If the karaage were a little more consistent, I would’ve put that in this space. But man, I love the black sesame ramen just as much. The broth is rich and intense and that punch of sesame isn’t the least bit shy. I’m fully jazzed about this plucky little downtown newcomer.

Ichiban Eggplant

Pa'La — 24th Street
Claudio has moved on, but Jason is holding down the fort adding a lot of new and interesting things to Pa’La Prime. Grilled eggplant is always a good thing, but man, the black garlic molasses glaze was both unexpected and really striking. Tiny dish, massive flavor.

I'm Going To Regret This

The state of food media in Phoenix is really a mess, and it breaks my heart. It's something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, and I should probably stop, because that never ends well.

Traditional media is getting absolutely killed by a combination of digital gatekeepers and vulture capitalists, and like a lot of media, the good stuff isn’t cheap to produce. Or perhaps more accurately, the realiable stuff isn’t cheap to produce. When the money gets tight, thoroughly researched lists and reviews give way to hasty SEO fodder and First Bites based on two or three dishes. It isn’t anybody’s fault. Everybody’s doing what they need to do to survive. But while there are a number of local food reporters, as far as I can tell the only folks who are doing serious critical work now are Nikki Buchanan, whom I adore, and Marilyn Hawkes, who will still be writing sweetly polite reviews of Phoenix restaurants long after the rest of us are dead and gone.

Meanwhile, where did the audience go? Social? YouTube? TikTok? I’m not going to lump everybody in together. There are some honest voices out there. But man, they’re impossible to pick out. Get a few followers in that space and suddenly PR groups are throwing money and free food at you and how many people really have the fortitude to say no? How many even want to? And among those who do resist going on the take, follow numbers and the algorithm are king, and a different kind of homogenized culinary monoculture is still homogenized culinary monoculture. Honest now — if I’d told you a decade ago that independent food writers on the internet were going to take over the scene, would you have guessed that they’d all be as similar as they are? That we’d need thousands upon thousands of people supplying endless reels of 12,000 calorie bacon-laden stunt foods, steaks cut with crazy knives and cooked in the forest over big fires, or yet another way to empty our refrigerator scraps into a bowl of instant noodles in a desperate attempt to avoid actually cooking?

What I need, for many personal reasons, is to stay the hell out of it, sit on the sidelines, spit out a newsletter a couple times a year, and occasionally roll a pinless grenade into the middle of the scrum. Problem is, I just don’t know if I have that kind of restraint.

Like I say. This never ends well.

Naming The Band

On a lighter note, it’s time.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the annual list of top ten band names taken from actual phrases uttered in the course of food and restaurant discussions in 2022:

Number Ten:

Mom's Mustard

Number Nine:

Impulse Gumbo

Number Eight:

No Time For Soup

Number Seven:

Apocalyptic Fajita Night

Number Six:

Two Donut Day

Number Five:

Rack of Mammoth

Number Four:

Spamhandler

Number Three:

DOSA CHAOS!

Number Two:

Freaking Leeks

And Number One:

The Aristocrabs

“Thank you, Phoenix! We are The Aristocrabs! Good night!”

In All Seriousness

Though I wouldn’t call them formal resolutions so much as loosely defined goals, I’ve decided to focus on two things in 2023: Writing about food more, and getting my health under control. So as you can see, I’ve already completely screwed myself from the get-go.