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By Michele Laudig

Konnichiwa, Phoenix! Ohisashiburi! (It's been a long time!)

I'm writing to you through the haze of jetlag after spending the last couple of weeks in Tokyo -- just got home about 24 hours ago, and I'm trying to convince my body that it's Thursday afternoon instead of Friday morning. Some of you knew I was gone, some of you guessed I was gone, and some of you probably had no idea, because my cafe column didn't go anywhere.

What in the world was I doing there? Well, I was rewiring my brain for a little while, living an alternative life. I have favorite neighborhoods, old friends, and only-in-Japan habits that I indulge in once a year, and since I hadn't left town since last fall, I was dying to get away. (Yes, I love you, but absence makes the heart grow fonder.)

By the end of the trip, I was talking differently (my Japanese feels rusty until I'm thrown into it), dressing differently (damn was it ever humid ... and why did I bother bringing those high heels?), and definitely eating differently (chicken heart sashimi!).

A year ago at this time, I posted some fun blog items about my last trip, which should give you an idea of what I was up to: Back in the U.S. of A., Feed Me, Tokyo, and Another Helping of Japan.

I'm happy to be back now. Walking into my office this morning, I smiled when I saw my neon red Blow-Up poster, and all the familiar piles of paper and menus and magazines and CDs that surround me. (Oh yeah, I also have a small collection of fake sushi items on my desk that I should blog about sometime.)

So what's new? What did I miss? Where have you been eating and hanging out?

I'm still playing catch-up, but there is one rockin' tidbit I just found out about: The new episode of Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations includes a jaunt to Phoenix, and it airs next Monday! (That's August 4, at 10 p.m., on the Travel Channel.) I'd heard he was in town awhile ago, and now it appears that the rumor was true.

Our fair city is only one stop on his tour of the Southwest, and I don't know much about what he did, except that he definitely interviewed Alice Cooper (not really a surprise, considering Tony's taste in music -- Alice plays some badass stuff on his radio show, btw...) and indulged in the kitsch of Cooperstown.

It will be interesting to see where else he visited. There's word that Los Dos might've been on his itinerary, too . . .

By Jonathan McNamara

Before we get on to the brew, I’d like to ask you to read past the jump to learn about the first (potentially of many depending on how this one goes) Brew Review contest. Please read to the end!

Carling is a familiar beer brand to anyone who frequents Canada, South Africa and the United Kingdom. The brand was founded in 1840 when Thomas Carling started a small brewing operation to sell beer to soldiers at the local military camp. Now 168 year later, Carling has pioneered the beer industry by combining frothy brew with technological wizardry in the form of the iPint.

Simply download the iPint and your iPhone or iPod Touch becomes a technological marvel that fills with Carling beer at the press of a button.

Tastes: a bit disappointing. In fact, I couldn’t taste it at all. How do you get the damn beer out of the iPhone?

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For this week's Cafe column New Times visited Eddie's House in Old Town Scottsdale and Christopher's Restaurant and Crush Lounge situated next to Saks at Biltmore Fashion Park to photograph the atmosphere of the two restaurants.

From the stacks of plates waiting for their destinies in Eddie's House's dining room to the rain fall sinks just outside the bathroom at Christopher's Restaurant, shooting the decor was a great deal of fun, but shooting the people who work at these eateries was much more rewarding. They love what they do and you can see it in their faces as they plate their labor.

At Christopher's Restaurant, Chef de Cuisine Chad Bolar asked us if we'd like some "action shots" then proceeded to flambe a pan of asparagus smiling like a kid as four foot flames shot forth from the cook top.

"So you guys must have the greatest job in the world, right?" we asked him.

"Yeah...pretty much."

For more on Eddie's House and Christopher's Restaurant, don't miss this week's Cafe article "Celebrity chefs Eddie Matney and Christopher Gross stake their names on new restaurants" by Michele Laudig. For more photos don't miss our slideshow "New eateries Eddie's House and Christopher's Restaurant and Crush Lounge."

By Jay Bennett

Since being turned on to Paisley Violin by a co-worker a couple of weeks ago, I've been raving about the place to just about anybody who will listen. I know I'm a latecomer to its greatness, but better late than never, right?

Situated in an old, standalone building in a semi-desolate stretch of Grand Avenue in downtown Phoenix, Paisley Violin El Museo Café (yeah, I'm not crazy about the name, either) is a real diamond in the rough, serving salads and top-notch sandwiches at Budget Beat-approved prices, all in a setting dripping with multi-media eclecticism.

If you enter through the back door, you'll walk through a small, wrought iron-adorned courtyard surrounded by brightly colored houses, presumably used as artists' studios. There's a bird cage out there and a pretty fountain, too.

Upon entering the eatery, you'll see an attractive wooden bar running nearly the length of right side of the room. If and when this place ever secures a liquor license (it's strictly BYOB now), it could be a stellar drinking hole on a street that could another one besides the Bikini Lounge and Chez Nous.

The bar: Oh, for a booze license . . .

There's a neat, elevated DJ booth in the middle and a little bit of room for bands to set up and play, which occurs occasionally, including on First Fridays. On the night I went there, a movie screen had been pulled down for Paisley's weekly movie night, during which writer/director Terry Swann screens a classic flick and discusses it afterward. Nude drawings by artist Eric Hodgins lined the wall.

The sandwiches are what makes this place great, especially the Cuban panini, something I've ordered a couple of times now. The Cuban consists of prosciutto served over a black bean paste, chunks of red onion, and melted Swiss cheese. That all sounds great, but what hits this one out of the ballpark are bites of sweet dill pickle and an astounding chipotle mayo dressing. It comes on a toasted baguette that, while tasty, makes eating the sandwich a crunchy, palate-scraping, sometimes sloppy, affair. As I've stated before in this space, I prefer the soft roll, but what are you gonna do? The $8 Cuban is among my favorite sammies in all the Valley.

The Cuban panini: You can't see 'em, but there are pickles in there!

Each sandwich comes with a side serving of uniquely tasty potato salad. (There are other side options, too, but I can't even remember what they are because I'm so fixated on their potato salad.)

The missus enjoyed the Greek Peasant Salad but did not rave about it, so let's move on. Our dining companion, Andi (new to these parts from Big D), ordered another PV specialty, the eggwich. This particular eggwich was of the French variety and featured spinach, Brie, olive oil, and garlic pepper on a big ol' croissant. She gave the $4.25 creation a big thumbs-up. Other eggwiches, which PV serves all day long, include the Greek, American, Italian, Mediterranean, Norwegian. and Cajun.

The eggwich: Good any time of day. (Photos by Laura Hahnefeld)

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention PV's hummus plate appetizer, which comes with a generous serving of reddish, dill-flavored hummus that is unlike any I've had before. It's garnished with a couple of yummy stuffed grape leaves, tomato wedges, and cucumber dill sauce, as well as some toasted pita wedges.

It was really cool to see the small place fill up with an assortment of folks for movie night. Young couples, hipster dudes, middle-aged folks toting bottles of wine, and a couple of families with kids settled in to watch The Magnificent Seven and discuss it afterward with Terry Swann, who will resume movie night on Wednesdays in September with films about the dark side of politics.

I can't say enough about Paisley Violin. This kind of place was a dime-a-dozen in my previous city of residence, Chicago. Ditto for Brooklyn, the former home of the fella who took me to PV in the first place, New Times art director Peter Storch. No wonder we've been gravitating toward Paisley Violin: It's a reminder of all the arty places in those world-class burgs. I'm just happy there are peeps in PHX that get it. On the whiteboard where the daily specials are listed, they've written as a message to diners, "Thank you for feeling the love." No, PV, thank you.

Paisley Violin El Museo Café
1030 Grand Avenue
602-254-7843

By Wynter Holden

Yes, you read the title right. If you haven't already heard of Chino Bandido -- or seen their mustachioed, sombrero-wearing panda mascot -- you might be a bit shocked, even offended. In this age of political correctness it's a miracle that such a place exists.

That being said, Chino Bandido is one of the coolest little hole-in-the wall eateries I've ever visited.

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He's monstrously large and covered in hops. Luckily for you, he only exists on a label...or so we hope.

Hopsquatch, a frighteningly powerful Barleywine from Four Peaks, is currently available for those lucky enough to make it to the Four Peaks brewery before the keg runs out. The stuff is so powerful that only one keg is tapped per month, so run! Flee to Four Peaks and grab a mug while you still can.

This tip comes to you courtesy of Phoenix New Times' Meal Ticket newsletter. For more info on Valley eats and treats, subscribe now.

Macaroni and cheese, plus the deep fat fryer ...

by Sarah Fenske

Macaroni-and-cheese is one of God's perfect foods. Whether it's a high-end version with lobster over at The Capital Grille, the kind your mother made with potato chips on top, or even the kind you make just by adding water, it's comfort food at its best.

There's only one problem with mac and cheese: You can't eat it while you're driving.

But now that I've made yet another trip through the drive-through at Jack In the Box, I've got to amend that statement. There used to be only one problem with mac-and-cheese. Now Jack In the Box has rolled out a portable version.

This isn't a gimmick. No, it's genuine Kraft-style mac-and-cheese, fried into a perfect orange triangle that you can scarf even with one hand on the wheel. And it' s just $1.59 for three. (There's also a bigger size available, but trust me: You won't need it.)

I gave the bites a test run while on the road yesterday and nearly hit a dude in a Beemer. But that's not because these suckers are hard to hold. I'm just a bad driver.

No, these bites really are perfect for a day when you crave mac-and-cheese, but don't have enough time to slow down and pick up a fork. I don't know how Jack In the Box does it, but they really hold together, with a tempura-style crust locking in the warm cheesy goodness with no mess and no fuss. I was pleasantly surprised by how much of the macaroni flavor comes across in this version.

Now, I have to admit, I didn't love these more than the plated version; the fried batter doesn't really add much taste-wise. But the fact that I could enjoy mac-and-cheese taste while still menacing my fellow drivers -- well, that's a really good thing in these days of working lunches and overbooked schedules.

I'll definitely be ordering these again.

By Wynter Holden

There are a few horrible fads that I wish I could erase from my memory. Like those singing fish plaques. Furbies. Parachute pants. And this:

Somewhere along the line between Survivor, Fear Factor and the Travel Channel's Bizarre Foods, watching other people eat disgusting, scary food became fashionable. I mean, it's one thing to be glued to the set when some regular Joe is facing his fear of spiders or braving a 50-foot waterfall jump. That's inspiring. But seriously, does anyone really need to watch another human being down a plate of live caterpillars?

I sighed aloud when I saw this gummy 'pizza' (and I use that term very loosely) with decorative pig parts in a local grocery store. As if the look of it wasn't bad enough, this Fear Factor candy is advertised as tasting like "bacon, and other amazing flavors." Ugh. Yes, I tried it. And worse, I suckered a friend into trying the pig liver and heart area just so I wouldn't have to.

The sugar content was so high that I practically got buzzed, which was sadly a saving grace for this awful concoction. It had a gross, sweet bacon-y flavor tinged with what reminded me of new plastic. You know, like the way a new wrapped plastic toy smells the first time you take it out of the package. I'll stop now before I start to throw up in my mouth a little.

I was reminded of the good old days in my fourth grade cafeteria, when I was the kid you could pay to mix pizza, soda, jell-o and mustard in one glass and take a sip. Yeah, it's cool when you're eight, but when you're an adult you just look like a pig. Oink, oink.

Hey readers, what's the grossest thing you've ever eaten?

By Jonathan McNamara

I walked up to the two hostesses with bleach-blonde hair wearing mint green dresses. Earlier, they’d ushered me into this Bacardi-sponsored “Mojito Masterclass” at Sanctuary on Camelback Mountain with a smile at the door and a quick check on the guest list. Now, they were mingling with the crowd of restaurant owners, hotel managers and bartenders, who were snacking on satays while sipping, what else, a multitude of minty mojitos.

See more photos from the event in our slide show "Mojito Masterclass at Sanctuary."

“So do you two like mojitos?” I know, I know. Ask a stupid question, get a marketing-trained answer, but it was already out there.

“I order them all the time,” said the bombshell on the right. “I really like the melon ones.”

Melon!?

Maybe I’m a bit old-school when it comes to my cocktails but it seems to me that a true mojito comprises mulled mint, limes and sugar with rum and a splash of club soda. When you start tossing strawberries into the mix you’re ruining a perfectly good drink, right?

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By Amy Silverman

This one makes me sad. I love Cyclo, the innovative, funky Vietnamese restaurant in Chandler.

Apparently the Maricopa County restaurant inspectors didn't love it so much, during their most recent inspection, July 17. (It should be noted that this was the only "no award" inspection online for Cyclo; the previous reports have been silver and gold.)

I can live with worn cutting boards, the wrong kind of toothpick dispenser and even raw chicken stored above cooked foods.

But spring rolls with no expiration date? A "filthy" floor under the cooking equipment? A broken fridge?

And the worst: "LIVE ROACHES WERE FOUND IN THE KITCHEN CRAWLING ON THE FOOD," the county inspector wrote. "THE FOOD WAS VOLUNTARILY DESTROYED BY THE MGMT. HAVE AN EXTERMINATOR EXTERMINATE THE ROACHES AND SAVE THE RECEIPT TO SHOW ON THE REINSPECTION."

Oh yeah, and this order from the inspectors, as if the crawlers weren't enough: "CLEAN UP THE DEAD ROACHES."

by Robrt L. Pela

Here's a friendly note to my friends and family: Stop buying me salt shakers. I'm done collecting them. I have 136 of them now, and that's enough. So, seriously, enough already.

Thanks.

By Wynter Holden

It all started at a recent weekend brunch. Things were running pretty smoothly, until two of the girls at the table next to me started a vicious sauce debate that threatened to come to blows. Or at least a good catfight. Now, don't get me wrong, I love sauce. I can't eat my shoe-leather-like well done steak without A-1 or Heinz 57, I'll eat cardboard if it's dipped in a good barbecue sauce and penne ala vodka practically makes my toes curl in delight. But the great béchamel vs. béarnaise vs. hollandaise debate of 2008? Does anyone really care?

I changed my mind after a recent trip to Bacchanal Greek Restaurant, where my citrus-allergic friend Mr. T (sadly, not the Mr. T of A Team fame) spit out a mouthful of meat-stuffed grape leaves in avgolemano because he failed to realize that the Greek sauce is made with lemon. Inside I was screaming, "Duh, ask the waiter if you don't know what it is," but instead I offered him some of my béchamel-coated moussaka (think eggplant lasagna). After all, who am I to judge?

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By Jonathan McNamara

The Summer heat didn't slow Downtown Phoenix Public Market down a bit this Saturday. While just across the street early morning people scrambled to get a seat at Matt's Big Breakfast, market shoppers selected fresh produce, traded crafts and oh yeah, got autographs from Top Chef cast members Richard Blais (season four) and Betty Fraser (season two).

See more Top Chef shots in our slideshow.

The two chefs were in town as part of 20-city road tour promoting the popular Bravo! cooking competition series Top Chef.

But there was more cooking for Top Chef fans than getting their books and T-shirts felt-tipped. Inside the Top Chef custom 18-wheeler, diehard fans with reserved tickets got to sit in on a cooking demonstration by the two chefs while dishing about the show.

It is unknown whether Mayor Phil Gordon and State Representative Robert Meza were ticket holders, but they two made it in to the tiny truck studio for the demonstration.

When asked if he's an avid Top Chef fan, Meza said, "Oh yeah! I was just telling my friend to get cable to watch it."

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By Steve Jansen

Until Sunday, I'd never, ever eaten a churro.

For real. Never.

Like stadium dogs and those gross out turkey legs at the Renaissance Festival, there's something about the large, hand held format of churros that always turned me off. I'm uncomfortable eating in front of others, so sticking a big, messy piece of grub in my face isn't my favorite.

That's why I tend to gravitate to more subtle sustenance, such as air.

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by Robrt L. Pela

I’m not a fussy eater, but I draw the line at eating stuff that’s going to be tasting me while I’m tasting it. And if I were going to eat tongue, I certainly wouldn’t want it in a casserole. With corn. Trust me.

This little number, which appears on the page right next to a recipe for Liver Loaf, is from Money-Saving Main Dishes, a 48-page booklet that claims to be a “bulletin” from the United States Department of Agriculture. My copy, kiped from my mother’s pantry, is dated 1962 and was, according to a rubber stamp on the cover, a gift “From Your Congressman, Michael J. Kirwan.” I am guessing that, after reading some of the recipes printed in this one (among them Boiled Dinner and French Toast with Tomato-Meat Sauce), my mother didn’t send Mr. Kirwan a thank-you note.

I like how the cover illustration depicts the products of agriculture, which apparently include spatulas and straining spoons. I’m also intrigued by the brown splotches on the cover, which smell slightly of curry, although I can find no recipes containing that spice in this delightfully atrocious collection of main dishes.

Speaking of ingredients, where does one buy pimiento, exactly? Tongue is easier to come by, although not as much fun to pronounce. Still, I couldn’t resist. I asked the clerk at Safeway this morning, “Do you have tongue?” He seemed unfazed, and pointed me to the meat counter. When asked where the pimiento was, he said, “Oh, you’ll have to ask someone else about that.” This was the same clerk whom I’d asked, last December, if he had lady fingers. I was hoping for witty banter, but he just stared.

People are so disappointing.

Tongue and Corn Casserole

3 tablespoons butter or margarine
1 teaspoon finely chopped onion
2 tablespoons finely chopped pimiento
3 ½ tablespoons flour
1 ¼ cups milk, broth from tongue, or water with 2 beef bouillon cubes
¼ teaspoon salt
1 ½ cups chopped cooked tongue
1 1/3 cups whole-grain corn, drained
1/3 cup grated cheese
¼ cup fine, dry breadcrumbs mixed with butter or margarine