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By Michele Laudig

Since so many restaurants are closed on Mondays, I keep a mental shortlist of my dining options for that tricky day of the week. And for that reason alone, Humble Pie's already got solid status as an evergreen dining option.

But now there's another incentive to stop by: The Hilton Village pizzeria's doing half-price bottles of wine on Mondays. Sure, it's not every bottle on the wine list -- just "a select group of vintages" -- but owner Tom Kaufman isn't known for his crappy taste in wine. Quite the contrary. I imagine Kaufman's discounted vino is still better than the cheap stuff from Safeway that I drink with my Monday night delivery pizza.

There's also word that the menu's been tweaked. Along with pizzas, salads, and roasted veggie starters, there are also sandwiches, some new desserts, and one of my all-time favorite dishes: lasagna.

Located at 6149 N. Scottsdale Rd., Humble Pie is open daily for lunch and dinner.

by Robrt L. Pela

If the house caught on fire, I’d grab my French press and run. Oh, and the cats. I’d grab the cats, too. Except that in my horror fantasies, the cats are waiting patiently by the door (even though they’ve never gone outside in their lives) to be whisked away to safety. Along with my French press, without which I cannot wake up in the morning.

I’ve become one of those people who’d rather not interact with the world until his coffee kicks in. Deplorable. If you happen one day to be my houseguest, it’d be better if you didn’t try to strike up a conversation with me while I’m waiting for my early morning coffee water to boil. If you find me in the kitchen grinding a fistful of beans at, say, 7 a.m., it would be best if you went and sat in the breakfast room until I’ve swallowed a cup or two. Just a friendly warning.

My French press was a gift from my friend Dominick, a sort of “thank you for letting me visit you in France” after he came to see me and Mr. Grossman at our house there one summer. I’ve used it every morning since, and I never share. Of course, no one’s home at our house at 7 in the morning who wants my coffee. Even if I weren’t the only one home, I’ve been told I make my brew “too strong.” And if there were anyone here to hear my reply, it would be, “I didn’t make it for you.”

By Steve Jansen

Il Posto – the Sunnyslope-located Italian restaurant that used to be called Our Gang Cafe – got it right.

What does “it” refer to? Well, first of the all, the ambiance, from the sharp looking inside dining area to the New York City-esque patio complete with misters. Another aspect was the dinner menu, which features good-sized portions of hot pastas, chicken dishes, salads, and more.

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By Niki D'Andrea

This is “Senor Agwa.” At parties acoss Europe and the U.K., he's the face of Agwa De Bolivia Coca Leaf Liqueur, an imported alcoholic beverage made from coca leaves. You can read about Agwa's arrival and buzz in the Valley in this week's cover story, Liquid Blow? [http://phoenixnewtimes.com/2008-06-26/news/agwa-a-new-liqueur-made-from-coca-leaves-is-giving-valley-barflies-a-boost/], but I only recently learned about this interesting Agwa spokesman after scouring the Internet for Agwa party photos. It seems that Senor Agwa hits every Agwa party across the sea, always in the same rainbow-colored beanie cap and sarape.

Senor Agwa was on hand for a huge house music party in Mallorca, Spain last year, with a tray full of Agwa shots. And here is Senor Agwa in front of Buckingham Palace, while he was promoting the drink around London:

According to Senor Agwa -- who won't give out his real name -- he, like his father before him, was a coca farmer in Bolivia. Unable to earn enough money to support his family solely by coca farming, Senor Agwa moved to London and took a job in a factory, where he works seven days a week to support himself and send money back to his family. When he discovered Agwa De Bolivia Coca Leaf Liqueur, he immediately jumped on board to promote the drink at clubs and parties around London and Europe. He says the drink not only reminds him of home - where he used to chew coca leaves with lime - but “If many people drink Agwa, coca leaf farming will bring riches for my family.”

In case you were wondering if Senor Agwa is for real, here's a video clip of him in action, giving away enough Agwa to get women in an ass-shaking contest (he joins in near the end of the clip):

You can also check out Senor Agwa's Facebook profile here [http://www.facebook.com/pages/Senor-Agwa/7175516249?ref=s].

By Michele Laudig

Remember Damon Brasch, the chef I profiled a few months ago?

Well, I ran into him yesterday at That's A Wrap, his CenPho restaurant, and got the latest update on The Center Bistro, the in-house organic eatery at Tempe's I Am The Center yoga studio.

Turns out, The Center closed for the summer, and along with it, so did The Center Bistro. Brasch didn't seem all too happy about that, but apparently the other partners in the business decided to take a break during the hot months and reopen -- supposedly -- this fall when the ASU kids are back on campus.

In this case, it sucks being a deprived local, because a cool salad and a cold glass of fresh-squeezed juice sounds like the perfect thing have on a hot afternoon.

Anyway, I hope we see The Center Bistro open back up in a few months. And I'm happy to report that Brasch's other restaurant, Green, is doing A-okay.

In yesterday's Meal Ticket newsletter, we spoke to Chef/owner Robert Gonzalez about his new restaurant Babaloo's Cuban Cafe in Ahwatukee. We incorrectly identified the location as the corner of 44th St. and Chandler Blvd.

The correct address for Babaloo's is 1241 E. Chandler Blvd., at Chandler Blvd. and the Desert Foothills Parkway. Their grand opening celebration will take place from 5-10 p.m. this Saturday, June 28.

If you haven't signed up for Meal Ticket yet, click here to register.

by Robrt L. Pela

I’m glad this one still has its (tattered) dust jacket, otherwise I’d have no idea why Ruth Ellen Church is the author of Mary Meade’s Magic Recipes for the Electric Blender. Turns out, according to this book’s flap copy, that Church is Meade, although there’s no explanation as to why Church used a pseudonym as author of a syndicated food column in the 1950s.

Probably Church didn’t want to put her real name on recipes like Codfish Delight or Party Avocado Mold, which sounds more like a hostessing problem than a festive side dish. The gimmick here was that housewives could use their then-newly popular electric blenders to make every course of each meal they prepared. The best section is the desserts chapter, which is oddly placed at the front of the book and wherein Meade—I mean Church—goes batshit with soft, creamy confections, among them Nesselrode Pudding and something called Fluffy Prune Pie, one of the few recipes that includes a caveat (“…cut the pieces small!”) that’s possibly code for “This dessert causes diarrhea!”

FLUFFY PRUNE PIE
Rich stuff, so cut the pieces small!

Place in blender:
¼ cup orange juice
1 small piece lemon rind
1 teaspoon lemon juice

Blend until rind is grated. Without stopping blender, add gradually

1 pound of pitted prunes, cooked until very soft

Blend smooth. Add

1 cup walnuts or pecans

Blend a few seconds to chop. Pour into mixing bowl and mix in

¾ cup sugar
¼ teaspoon salt

Beat until stiff, then fold in

2 egg whites

Pour into baked 9-inch pie shell and bake at 325 degrees for 30 minutes. When cool, top with whipped cream to which you have added 2 drops almond extract. Pie is rich and sweet, so I prefer not to sweeten whipped cream for it.

By Michele Laudig

The last couple of weeks have been pretty brutal -- I can only hope that the monsoon season will bring us a break from the extreme heat.

In the meantime, there's at least a little relief, in the form of two new gelato shops that have recently opened.

At the Shops at Norterra, 2530 W. Happy Valley Rd., 25-year-old entrepreneur Charles Lauletta opened Paciugo, a local outpost of a Dallas-based gelato chain founded by an Italian native. Along with nearly 30 flavors of gelato and sorbet, Paciugo also offers hazelnut soy, and no-sugar-added vanilla.

And out in Fountain Hills, world traveler Zomore Quan has opened her first business, La Scala Creamery (12645 N. Saguaro Blvd.), featuring homemade gelato as well as homemade cones, made from an Italian cookie recipe.

Mrs. Quan also teaches occasional cooking classes on topics such as making kefir (a fermented milk drink) and healthful fermented vegetable dishes. For more info, call 480-836-4444.

By Wynter Holden

Bartender Scott Pierce (a.k.a Pandora) is a quirky, outspoken and totally flaming queen who isn't afraid to let it all hang out. He loves to wear tight leather corsets, although he switches to muumuus in the hot summer. He digs beehive hairdos. And he wants to open a B&B in the Bahamas with his hubby. You can find Scott's "gender outlaw" alter-ego Pandora hosting drag bingo or gay movie night (think Mommie Dearest, coat hangers and Barbie dolls to beat) at Ice Pics in downtown Phoenix.

Chow Bella: How'd you get started as a bartender?
Scott Pierce: My parents were big drinkers, so we always had a bar at my house. For big holiday gatherings, my cousins and I figured out that if we poured people drinks, they would give us money. We used to get my family shitfaced! I could make the fiercest martini at age 7.

CB: What did you want to be when you grew up?
SP: I wanted to be Mrs. Wiggins.

CB: Who's that?
SP: Are you old enough to remember The Carol Burnett Show? Mrs. Wiggins was the secretary with the big ass and the leopard-print skirt who spends all of her time filing her nails and sharpening pencils. That was my earliest aspiration. I [did] the receptionist thing, so I got that out of my system.

CB: Where'd you live before Phoenix?
SP: I'm from DC. When Daddy Bush was in office, me and my friends used to write "eat my Bush" on tennis balls and throw them over the fence so his dog would get one and bring it inside.

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By Michele Laudig

If you've ever seen the kooky headlines I come up with for my restaurant reviews, you know I appreciate a little wordplay once in awhile.

So I'm loving the name of Local First Arizona's annual celebration of groovy local businesses: Independents Week, which runs June 30 through July 6. I imagine they started with Independents Day as a July 4th tie-in, then figured, "Hey, why not a whole week?" They even got Governor Napolitano's stamp of approval.

As extra incentive for you to shop and eat locally, nearly 50 local businesses are joining a special promotion that gets you a 20 percent discount. All you need to do is print out a Golden Ticket from the Local First website, then take it to one of the participating places.

In the way of food and food-related options, that includes Tapino, Fusion, Spinato's, La Torretta, Souvia Tea, The Art of Soup, Uncorked Wine Bar, Duck & Decanter, Pop the Soda Shop, Plate It Up!, Farrelli's Cinema Supper Club, Superstition Farm, Urban Cookies, Cowboy Ciao, and Digestif.

By Jay Bennett

Is there a restaurant you love so much that you'd go there four times a week? Me neither. I live four blocks from La Grande Orange and love its pizzas and salads like nobody's business, but still, I eat them, like, twice a month, tops.

The other night, I was at a Budget Beat reader-recommended Mexican place called Via de Los Santos, in north Phoenix's Sunnyslope neighborhood, and met a diner who says he eats there four times a week. I asked the slender, 50-ish gentleman whether that claim was just a bit of margarita-fueled hyperbole, but he soberly declared again that he eats at "Via's" four times a week, often with his 91-year-old grandma, who doesn’t get excited about much anymore — unless it's a trip to this neighborhood treasure.

Upon arriving at Via de Los Santos, which is on Central and one block north of Dunlap, I realized I'd been at the place one other time, a couple of years ago, with a dude named Bart Bull. Bart's a musician, manager, writer (including New Times, waaay back in the day), gadabout, and cool-guy raconteur — one of the true characters I've met in AZ. And before he high-tailed it to Paris to teach accordion, he loved dining at Via's. So, it was good to be back.

I can see why ol' Bart dug the place. Via's is one of those old-school Phoenix institutions that has a ton of charm, great energy, a fun-looking bar, and a welcoming, neighborhood-y vibe. Nothing pretentious, nothing mall-ified about the place. The missus and I popped in there at 8 on a Tuesday night and the place was packed — always a good sign.

Via's is a hit right off the bat because the two kinds of fresh salsa and homemade chips are among the best I've tried in Phoenix, better even than at some of the higher-profile Mexican places in town. Both favor a rich tomatoey taste over heat. My favorite of the two features chunks of tomato, scallion and cilantro, and a hint of oregano. We nearly filled up on the stuff.

The huevos rancheros: Good for breakfast or dinner.

For entrees, we opted for some Mexican staples over the house specialties. She had huevos rancheros, which weren’t as good — mostly because of the middle-of-the-road chili verde it was covered with — as some others in town. But still, it's huevos — tough to screw it up, you know?

I had a shrimp enchilada and a fish taco. The grilled fish, seasoned with Mexican spices and served on a corn tortilla, was flavorful and cooked just right, but I could've done without the lettuce and cheddar cheese piled on it. The best fish tacos have cabbage instead of lettuce and are cheese-less. It got better after I doused it with the spicier of the two salsas that Via de Los Santos makes.

The shrimp enchilada hit the spot. It was chock-full of little seasoned shrimp, some melted cheese, and an excellent red sauce — all wrapped in a delicious corn tortilla — that suited my tolerance for heat perfectly. Next time, I’ll make sure to try a house specialty — I think I dropped the ball by not exploring that part of the menu — and a margarita (which Mr. Four-Times-a-Week claims is the best in the city).

The fish taco and shrimp enchilada: Dig the red sauce. (Photos by Laura Hahnefeld)

If you live in the north half of Phoenix, Via's is worth checking out. All in all, it was a pleasurable experience and the two of us got out of there for about $25 (which included a coupla Coronas). A ton of food? Not much money? That's old-school charm for you.

Photo credit: TracyKreck.com

By Michele Laudig

Friday night's supposed to be the big night out at the end of the work week, but half the time I feel so frazzled I'd rather be a couch potato, snarf down a pizza, and crack open a bottle of Three Buck Chuck.

Chef Vincent Guerithault feels my pain.

The award-winning chef/restaurateur has just launched Vincent's Back Door, a once-a-week pizza takeout service located just where you'd expect: right behind his eponymous fine dining restaurant on Camelback.

From 5 to 7:30 p.m. on Friday nights, customers can stop by and choose from more than a dozen thin-crust pizzas, including Margherita, Tarte Flambee (with cream, bacon, and thyme -- sounds delish), and Ratatouille (with tomato, pesto, mozzarella, and mixed veggies).

They're all eight bucks apiece, which is cheaper than a measly sandwich at most restaurants these days. Not sure how big they are, though.

Interestingly, Guerithault's wood-fired oven is built inside a trailer that's parked behind the restaurant. That's right -- it's a pizza oven on wheels.

Now if only we could somehow convince him to take the thing out on the town, a la the ice cream man, perhaps with a loudspeaker and a mesmerizing theme song. I can see it now: hordes of hungry little foodies chasing the pizza pied piper down the street, crowding around to line up for a fresh-baked pie.

Okay, so maybe that won't happen in my hood, but I bet something like that will play out in the parking lot behind Vincent's tomorrow night . . .

By Jonathan McNamara

Even the great Hindu sage Valmiki surely could not have predicted that when he penned life into Hanuman, the monkey god in the Hindu epic The Ramayana, the character would end up on a bottle of beer.

Yet that's exactly what seems to have happened as an ape-faced deity sits plastered (pun intended) on Arizona-based Nimbus Brewing Company's labels.

This week's brew: Today we'll determine if Nimbus' Oatmeal Stout is fit for a god.

Tastes: Clean. Prior to letting the roasted, amber liquid hit my tongue, my nostrils detected a crisp cleanliness. Dark beer fans will have no trouble downing a few mugs of Oatmeal Stout without the unfortunate lead stomach effect other stout beers tend to result in. The oatmeal included in the brewing process gives this beer a soft finish with absolutely no aftertaste.

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By Wynter Holden

The rule in my house is that the person with the crappiest day gets to make the decision about what to do that evening. My roommate "A" finalized a bad breakup last Thursday, so dinner was definitely her call. My fingers were crossed for something healthy, and luckily, Miss A wanted to pound down some sushi.

So we piled in my little green Beetle and headed to Ichiban Sushi & Teppanyaki at 99th and McDowell in Tolleson. We didn't sit at one of the Teppanyaki cooktop tables, so I was limited to the regular menu. Unfortunately, the entree choices were pretty much meat drowned in teriyaki sauce or meat deep-fried in oil. Great! Either choice would bust my allowable fat intake for the day; maybe the whole week, if I had a combo.

Since I don't count grocery-store-bought California rolls as "real" sushi, I was technically a sushi virgin. Rice, vinegar and fish sounds super-healthy and low in calories, but you actually have to be careful with what roll you choose. Miss A recommended the tempura roll, but as far as I'm concerned, "tempura" must translate to "unhealthy and fattening" in Japanese.

So I tested one of my new dieting mantras: When in doubt, get an appetizer or two rather than a huge entree. Eating edamame first is always a helpful weight-management trick. At about 125 calories a serving, they're low in saturated fat, high in fiber and have more than twice your daily protein requirement. I ordered up some heart-healthy edamame, a small 4-pc steamed shrimp dumpling appetizer and one item from the sushi menu. I wasn't sure if I'd really bust my sushi cherry by ordering ebi (technically sashimi, not sushi) but I figured I'd give it a shot.

The shrimp shumai (dumplings) were a little briny, but salvageable drowned in soy sauce, and my first stab at sushi was decent. Altogether, it was a pretty decent meal. And it cheered up my poor friend Miss A. Sushi, and Japanese food in general, is a great choice for those trying to stick to a healthy diet regimen -- especially if you stick with boiled or steamed appetizers and sushi. Just steer clear of tempura anything, watch your salt intake (that soy sauce is a killer) and go light on the teriyaki.

Fuzzy photo; yummy shrimp

by Sarah Fenske

It'd been miserably hot and I felt like my brain was fried. I needed a pick-me-up.

So of course I chose Zest.

This stand-alone restaurant, at 16th Street and Indian School, is practically my favorite place in all of Phoenix. I love those little carts that they wheel around to make salads tableside. I love their ruby-red cosmopolitans (I swear, this is the best girly drink ever invented: a cosmo with a grapefruit twist). And I love the stuffed shrimp so much that I sometimes wake up at 4 a.m. just to crave them.

Nothing at Zest is simple. I went there once with my friend Lisa, who hates garlic, and there was literally nothing on the menu she could eat. Everything is juiced up with citrus, or infused with garlic, or dripping with peppers and cream and mango. It's a four-year-old's nightmare (not to insult Lisa's palate or anything), but really great stuff if you like your food dripping with taste. Which I do.

The tableside salad is this wonderful mix of greens and citrus dressing with oranges, cranberries, pecans, and blue cheese -- it really is fabulous. But whenever I eat it, I have to admit, I'm just counting down the minutes 'til they bring me my stuffed shrimp.

So here's the magic dish: Shrimp and goat cheese, coated with panko and fried, served on a bed of linguini in a heavenly sauce. I still can't quite figure out what makes this sauce so good --the menu talks about sundried tomatoes and artichoke pepper relish, but what really makes it sing is the red onions. It's creamy without being heavy and tangy without being too sweet. One bite of it with those goat-cheesed shrimp and I'm in ecstasy.

So of course at Zest the other night, my dining companion and I got in a stupid fight. Hey, it's 115 freakin' degrees and everyone is in a bad mood.

But nothing could ruin how wonderful the food tasted -- and after a hard day and a rough conversation, what could be more fitting than a second ruby-red cosmo? Oh, waiter ...