'Sho 'Nuff

signature toripaitan ramen with wagyu, smoked pork, duck, chicken, spinach, truffle sauce,
green onion, red onion, ajitama, fried menma, and charcoal negi

We’ve come a long way since the days of Republic Ramen.

(What?..... Republic Ramen is still around?!..... oof.)

When I landed on the fair shores of Tempe Town Lake back in 2010, I took it as an article of faith that the only thing separating the greater Phoenix metropolitan region from top-tier ramen was time. Killer stuff had already made landfall in Los Angeles. How long could it take to migrate a measly 350 miles east?

I, uh... probably should have bet the over on that one.

As it turns out, the biggest obstacle to raising the bar — in any culinary subgenre — is a dining public that doesn’t know the difference between the good and the bad.

clockwise from left: daikon salad with radish sprouts, roasted tomato, fried enoki, nori, black sesame, and plum dressing  |  enoki chips with lemon and shichimi  |  corn wings with chashu sauce, dry parsley, and shichimi

Mensho is decidedly not the modern romantic vision of a tiny, subterranean Tokyo ramen-ya, where there’s no such thing as personal space and anyone over 5’10” is liable to walk out with mild head trauma, but where pumping a mere ¥1,500 into a ticket machine at the front door will get you a bowl of noodles the likes of which you didn’t think possible at any price point, much less $10. It would be easy to say that Mensho Tempe isn’t typical in a lot of ways, but I’m reluctant to judge it by what’s “typical” in Japan, not leastways because the truth is that a lot of things are typical in Japan. It’s a big place with scads of ramen restaurants, and some of them are very classy, polished, kinda pricey joints like this one. But also — try to contain your shock — this isn’t Japan.

Mensho Tempe is the latest outpost in Tomoharu Shono’s burgeoning empire, a franchised location over which — judging from chatter with the staff — he maintains a significant amount of oversight and control. But Tempe isn’t Tokyo. The economics of running a restaurant in the States are different than they are in Japan. And I suspect that’s where a lot of the differences begin.

duck macha ramen with matcha and creamy chicken soup, spinach, green onion, duck, and whipped cream

Setting aside the vegan options, which I (ashamedly) have not yet tried, Mensho Tempe’s bowls are built around a single tori paitan broth — a rich and creamy concoction that would stand tall on the other side of the Pacific. No, this does not rival the incredible richness and depth of the superstars of the Tokyo ramen scene (including Shono's own Tokyo ramen shops, in my experience), but to be blunt, we don’t have access to their chickens. Moreover, making comparisons like that is just asking to be disappointed, and I think you'd have to work awfully hard to be disappointed by this broth.

The differences between the bowls are in the tare — the seasoning added to the broth at the last minute — and the garnishes, though that makes it sound much simpler than it is. The signature tori paitan is no doubt a good place to start, and much like its Shinjuku counterpart, I’m frankly impressed by how elegantly Shono works in an earthy whiff of black truffle. His dab of truffle paste could so easily dominate the bowl, but whatever product he’s using, it’s good stuff, and it’s applied with restraint. But speaking for myself, I don’t need a slice of beef AND chicken AND pork AND duck in my bowl, so the classic tori paitan is more often my jam, though I’ll spring for an egg, because the jammy house smoked ajitama is too good to pass up, even if the branding is a little hilarious.

The Deliciousness of 2024

Sweet Jesus, I can’t believe I’ve done twenty of these.

The inaugural Deliciousness of 2005 was the second post on the OG Skillet Doux, back in the days when I was writing more as a personal journal than as something I actually expected anybody to read. Which was fitting, because a post would get maybe 20 pageviews back then. And most of those were probably my parents reading half a dozen times each.

It’s illuminating (and often embarrassing) to see what stuck out to me two decades ago, but it’s also a little fascinating that when I look through those early lists, there isn’t a single dish I don’t vividly remember. I’m not sure if that makes me the Raymond Babbitt of flavor recall or if it’s simply an illustration of the incredible permanence of human sense memory, but I can still taste every single one of them in my head.

That’s what this list has always been — not the "best" or the "top" or the "essential" or the fanciest or the most creative or the most famous or even necessarily those I enjoyed the most (though that last one is usually the case). These are the dishes that, for whatever reason, lodged themselves deep in my brain this year. And I expect they’ll still be jammed in my cortex another twenty years from now.  (God willing.)

And so, without further ado, presented — per tradition — in order determined by random.org, the Deliciousness of 2024:

Orange Pizza

Bryan Suarez

This one’s a little mean. I’m a restaurant guy, not a private chef guy. But after seeing Bryan Suarez’s work on Instagram, a friend convinced him to take a hired gig one night, and long story short, I’m really hoping he opens his own restaurant at some point. Among the many pastas and pizzas he threw at us, Bryan included his internet-famous Orange Pizza, a riff on/tribute to Bianco’s iconic Rosa, with pistachios and red onions and thin slivers of fresh orange that wrinkle and intensify in the oven’s heat. It takes those earthy Arizona pistachios and bathes them in a bright ray of sweet sunshine, and no exaggeration, it’s a completely brilliant dish. Anybody who says fruit doesn’t belong on pizza has never tried this. And anybody who tries this and still says fruit doesn’t belong on pizza needs to get their head examined.

Saba Bouzushi

ShinBay

I feel like ShinBay kind of dropped off everybody’s radar when Shinji Kurita retired, and that’s really a shame, because his replacement, Ken Tanaka, is fucking killing it over there. While Tanaka leans a little more towards the Eastern end of the spectrum than Kurita, this is still very contemporary Japanese cuisine, and his modern take on saba bouzushi — pressed pickled mackerel sushi — completely slayed me. He served it as a hand roll of sorts, blue mackerel with a subtle vinegary tang, layered with ginger, fragrant shiso and a sliver of translucent marinated kombu, wrapped in a leaflet of nori with a shatter-crisp texture. For all the scorn I heap on American-style sushi, it isn’t layers of complication I dislike. It took seven or eight elements to compose this bite. But man, they worked in harmony to create this insane balance of flavors and textures. That’s the way a pro does it.

Flautas Ahogadas

Requinto

All right, the review dropped back in August and Erick Pineda is still working out of Linger Longer Lounge, so will somebody please hurry the fuck up and give this guy a restaurant already? This is not a shot at Requinto’s current digs. Killer Mexican brunch on festive melamine from a bar kitchen has its own kind of guerilla charm. But Erick’s stuff is so, so good, and my favorite is probably these flautas. They’re very straightforward — filled with shredded pork and fried to a crisp. But the hook is the chipotle broth, this steaming miasma of chile and spice, and I love how such a simple choice in the way they’re served can give you the pleasure of enjoying them all along the texture spectrum — from crunchy and crisp, to lightly dunked in broth, to softened and a little smooshy on the ends that have soaked for a while.

Shredded Carrots

FnB

High concept dishes are dangerous. Nail them, and you're a genius. Miss, and they come off as pretentious. I don't need to tell you which camp Charleen Badman falls into, though calling her shredded carrots “high concept” is maybe a little unfair. After all, what’s a vegetarian gonna do when she gets a craving for an old favorite? Buffalo wings minus the wings, it turns out. This punchy salad brings it all — finely shredded carrots and shaved celery bathed in a fermented hot sauce ringed with bleu cheese dressing and a dusting of crispy fried quinoa to add a little bit of crunch. It’s a total mind-bender, perfectly capturing the distinctive flavors of buffalo wings in a freaking salad, light and delicate and sharply executed, at that. FnBrilliant™.

Chicago-Style Sausage Pizza

Kyle Kent

With apologies to those who use The Deliciousness as a checklist, this was apparently the year of unobtainable pizza. Y’all know Kyle Kent as one of the culinary minds behind the Chula Seafood empire, but you may or may not know that he also has a pizza problem. By which I mean that one of his hobbies is making stupid good pizza. I’d gotten word that he was seeking feedback on his Chicago thin, and look, we can all agree that I was dutybound to buy one and render judgment, right? Friends, I was deeply unprepared for just how perfect this is. My Chicago-fied tastebuds wanted just a touch more fennel in the sausage, but otherwise this pizza was *flawless* — mercy, was it crisp, just a little charred around the edges, sweetness and spice in the sauce balanced just so, homemade sausage bursting with fat and flavor, the sting of fresh giardiniera... I think the best way I can say it is this: If Kyle started selling this in Chicago tomorrow, he’d show everybody up and instantly join the ranks of the greatest thin crust pizzamakers in town. Straight fucking truth.

Potato and Yuca Pave

Valentine

Nobody is surprised that I’m putting Valentine here again, the only question was going to be which dish, and this year, it’s the pave. Donald Hawk and his team are just absolutely killing it, it sounds like his minions are increasingly getting in on the development action, and out of their heads spring some crazy concoctions like this. Both tender and crisp, that slab of deep golden seared potato and yuca is topped with a bright tomatillo pico de gallo and a thick layer of unctuous Manchego cream. The way this crew keeps taking classic ideas in some wild new directions still isn’t getting old, and I hope it never does.

Risotto con Capesante

Andreoli Italian Grocer

First rule of Andreoli: Eat what Giovanni tells you. Had a hankering for that spaghetti alle vongole? Tough, get it next time. Dropping in for coffee after you’ve just eaten a huge dinner? Surprise, you’re eating again. Rushing off to pick up your kid at school? Call him and tell him he's walking home. When Giovanni excitedly mentions that he just got some fresh scallops from Greece and you need to try his risotto, you try his risotto. Ohhhh, was this good. It’s infuriating how few places get risotto right, but just look at that texture — creamy and wet and loose enough that a fork is workable but a spoon is better. The natural sweetness of these scallops, the gently ruddy seafood funk imparted by the coral, the bitter counterpoint of melted arugula... simple and perfect in a way that so few cooks understand.

Fried Chicken

Full Speed Chicken & Ribs

This one breaks my heart. Including a favorite on The Deliciousness that didn’t even survive the year is just the worst, but I include it because it was there, damnit, and it was outstanding, and I’m going to bitterly shout that Scott and Bekke Holmes deserved better with Full Speed. You guys, this chicken was so, so flipping good. I understand why some people had trouble wrapping their heads around it, but set aside your preconceptions and your expectations, and embrace the technical work of art that this fried chicken was. I have never had a fried bird anywhere so tender and juicy. I don’t know what kind of sorcery Scott was pulling back there, but that craggy, shattering-crisp coating gave way to pure melted poultry ambrosia. And you can count me in the camp that was initially taken aback by the sweetness in the crust, but it quickly won me over. Here’s hoping Scott and Bekke aren’t done with their fried chicken just yet, because I know I'M sure as hell not done with it.

Costilla Torta Ahogada

Espiritu Cocktails + Comida

I know this is the year everybody lost their minds over the Roberto Centeno’s birria dumplings, and NGL, I thought about it. But if I’m being honest with myself, this is the dish that truly slayed me. “Elevated” dishes might be getting a little tired, but that’s because there is a right and a wrong way to do it, and this is SO MUCH the right way. Here’s a slurpy mound of melted K4 short rib, stewed in ruddy, chile-laced glory, lush with liquified fat and gelatin and all of the good stuff that comes in a cut like that. Slap it on Noble telera, add some veg and a smear of chiltepin aioli, serve it alongside a wild and intense tomato fume, and you have the apotheosis of ahogada, a wet and meaty sandwich to be both feared and remembered. Yeah... I really need to have this one again.

Peruvian Chicken Sandwich

Mister Pio

What a delightful little surprise Mister Pio was, a plucky little coda to a frustrating year that snuck into a Baja Arcadia strip mall just under the wire. I’ve changed my mind at least a dozen times on which of Justin Nasralla and David Goluboff’s offerings stuck with me the most, and I’m a little surprised to have finally settled on the sandwich, of all things — stuffed with chopped rotisserie chicken, a riff on salsa criollo heavy with pickled Fresnos, perky aji amarillo aioli and a pile of fresh greens, all stacked between — of course — two halves of a craggy and crusty Nice Buns roll. I am more than a little blessed to have this just down the street, and one of my New Year’s resolutions is to consume quite a few of them.

Distant Deliciousness of 2024

Anybody remember The Deliciousness of 2021, when I bitterly lamented our canceled trip to Japan?

Yeah, I made up for that this year.

Ayu Shioyaki

Funabatei — Nikko, Japan

This meal alone was worth the trouble of traveling to Nikko, renting a car, and braving the wrong side of the road in a country that isn’t exactly known for wide lanes. A 45-minute drive from Nikko station, along a blurbling, rushing river, there’s a popular spot named Funabatei where they pluck sweetfish from the water, skewer them, and grill them in the ashes surrounding a huge hardwood fire. And I can barely express how simple and perfect these sweetfish are. You can eat them whole, or if you give the head a little twist and pull it just right, you can slide out the entire skeleton intact, like something out of a 1950s cartoon, leaving behind boneless filets of tender flesh that’s smoky and sweet and wrapped in crisp, gently charred skin. A touch of salt, maaaaaybe a drop of soy sauce? That’s it. That’s all it needs. Served alongside plain rice and a tiny bowl of pickles, anything more would only detract from these gorgeous little fellas.

Sauteed Clams

Communion — Seattle

I traveled to Tucson, Seattle, Chicago and Tacoma this year, and honestly, having also spent three weeks in Japan, I’m a little surprised any of them cracked the list. But Communion was so, so good, and these saucy sauteed clams were my favorite. They aren’t fancy. We’re just talking about big, bold, brash flavor — simmered in lemongrass and shallot-scented coconut milk with a crapton of aromatics, garlic not least among them, and big chunks of a complex and gently sour Laotian sausage. Grab a handful of bread, dunk, slurp, repeat until finished. And then wish you’d ordered two.

Lobster Ramen

Ebimaru Ramen — Tokyo, Japan

There are dishes that are creative, there are dishes that are stunningly executed, and there are dishes that just happen to pluck at my heartstrings. This ramen was all three. I knew I’d be hitting Ebimaru the moment I learned there was a lobster bisque ramen joint, I just wish I’d done it earlier in the trip so I could’ve gone back. It seems so obvious in retrospect, but this is essentially a wildly intense French shrimp and lobster bisque ladled over excellent noodles and garnished and served as ramen, complete with a crème fraiche-smeared crouton. It is precisely as decadent as it appears, and it will be one of my very first stops the next time I’m in Tokyo. I go a little gooey just thinking about it.

Kamatama Udon

Udon Shin — Tokyo, Japan

The influencers have their hooks in Udon Shin, and I’ve seen more than a couple of them describe this dish as “better than any carbonara in Italy.” So allow me to nip this right in the bud: That claim is weapons-grade horseshit. The kamatama udon at Shin is wildly different than any carbonara in Italy, and turning this into some kind of contest is a disservice to both. This dish isn’t about cured pork fat and pepper. This is about cream and cheese, and OH MAN is it about cream and cheese, luscious and intense and rich enough to put you in the ground even before you get to the massive slab of tempura fried bacon that doesn’t even fit in the bowl. And just like a great pasta, the unsung hero is a sturdy noodle, carefully crafted and cooked to the perfect resilient texture. I’m bearish on the value proposition of chasing down viral foods, especially in Tokyo where for every Instagram hit there are 20 other places just as good. But this one might be worth fighting the influencers for.

Omurice

Kissa You — Tokyo, Japan

I cannot believe I’m anchoring The Deliciousness of 2024 with freaking eggs and ketchup. For lack of a Phoenix-based version I’m happy with, we often make omurice at home, and I routinely (mostly jokingly) chide the kids for preferring a ketchupy version to one made with demi or okonomiyaki sauce. But damnit if the omurice at Kissa You didn’t stop me dead in my tracks. I don’t know how they do it. It’s freaking rice, eggs, onions and ketchup. But it is so highly evolved, so skillfully executed, so perfectly done that it achieves some kind of transcendent, Platonic state that I’m going to continue to try to describe in the most florid language I can muster because I still cannot accept that I derived this much joy from freaking eggs and ketchup. Boggle.

Rudolph the Red

“Arrrrrr, I’ll tell ye the tale of when I lost me eye. ‘Twas Christmas Eve
2016, on a foggy night, just like this one...”

Bonus Deliciousness

Lengua en Mole

El Horseshoe Restaurant
How, as a semi-regular, did I go nearly 15 years without trying the lengua en mole? No matter, I’m making up for lost time. It’s ruddy and slurpable and just a little sweet and so, so good with their freshly griddled tortillas.

Shawarma Tazza

Charcoal Grill
This is a good spot in general, but the shawarma tazza is a particularly nifty little dish that plays almost like a bit of Arab-Mexican fusion, with shawarma-scented meat grilled over a live charcoal fire and shaved over roasted tomato salsa with some serious kick.

Green Chile Pork Kolache

Beginner's Luck
I’m remiss in not spending more time at Beginner’s Luck, because Ben Graham, under the auspices of Bernie Kantak, is turning out some really nice stuff, like this kolache — verdant, spicy green chile pork encased in a gorgeously flaky and fatty pastry. Wish it wasn’t a special.

Machi Cure

Uchi — Scottsdale
Uchi isn’t a Japanese restaurant. It’s an American restaurant that’s Japanese-inspired. I will die on this hill. And that’s not a knock, especially when you get a dish like this — wafer thin dehydrated yuca crisps piled with smoked yellowtail, crunchy almonds, crisp Asian pear, and the concentrated sweetness of golden raisins. Hits you from every direction at once.

Coco Bread

The Larder & The Delta
FINALLY, Stephen Jones is back, and I can’t wait to see what he does. First visit? I fell in love with his coco bread, like a Chinese mantou version of the Jamaican staple, steamed to a sweet and pliable texture and served with a burnt corn butter that slayed me.

Trumpet Mushrooms

Kid Sister
My favorite new wine bar was so consistently good, it was difficult to pick a favorite, but I’m going with the trumpet mushrooms, partly because I’m so taken with their delicate yet meaty texture, brilliantly paired with mashed sunchokes, a bright salsa verde and crisp pecan seca.

Macha Pepino

Chilte
Long story short, I didn’t get the freakout over Chilte at launch. You could see the potential, but it felt uneven and unsure. Just... not yet ready for that kind of spotlight. The Chilte I visited recently, however, is a vastly different restaurant than the one I visited last year, and dishes like these perky cucumbers in a salty sweet-sour marinade with nutty salsa macha are the reason why. More on this soon.

Salted Caramel Custard

The Ends
The Ends struggles with consistency, but when it’s on, it’s very much on, and one dish that is ALWAYS on is one of the thickest, richest, most intense salted caramel custards it has been my pleasure to sample. I am not a big dessert guy. This is my dessert.

Pork Belly and Kimchi Hot Pot

Ban Chan
Down there in Mesa, Irene Woo is still doing her thing, 50 years of running restaurants under her belt. But this year was the first time I tried her pork belly and kimchi hot pot, overflowing with massive chunks of honeycomb-cut pork and giant quartered heads of Napa cabbage, fermented and stewed and enough to feed an army of friends.

Beef Kabob

Eat & Go Mediterranean Cuisine
Eat & Go serves many esoteric Iraqi specialties that I find more interesting, but what makes the place great, in my estimation, is the kind of care and skill displayed in their simple ground beef kabobs — so carefully seasoned, gently crisped by the fire, but soft and tender inside. There is a lot of quiet skill in this dish.

Naming The Band

For those unaware, the rules for the year's food band names are as follows:

Band names must consist of phrases actually uttered in the course of conversation while discussing food and restaurants over the course of the year. Nothing invented, nothing tailored, nothing created out of thin air. Yes... we actually used these phrases in a casual fashion at some point.

And so, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Food Band Names of 2024:

Oooooooo... Quarter-Assin'

Next year, somebody remind me to start writing The Deliciousness more than a day before publishing time. Composition, editing and layout for 5000+ words in a day is... suboptimal. But I like to think that’s the beauty of Something to Doux. Quarter-assing it is part of the charm.