Palatte becomes blank canvas...

When I read on Chow Bella this week that the adorable, quirky Palatte restaurant was closing, my heart sank a bit -- I loved that restaurant.

Chow Bella reports that the 4th Avenue and Filmore Street breakfast/lunch spot "got an offer they couldn't refuse." That's the good news. The bad news is we lost gem.

I penned a review for AZ Central.com a few months after they opened in 2007, in which I opened with:

"I'm quite certain that no matter what I write in this review, the newly opened Palatte in the historic Cavness house...will be crazy busy for a long time to come."

That, of course, was well before the economic meltdown last fall. And truth be told, after I wrote the review, I probably only visited Palatte as a regular customer a handful of times, even though it was a favorite.

I'm going to cop out and blame proximity...the restaurant is more than 30 miles from my house. It's got me thinking, though, about some other favorite restaurants of mine, and perhaps I should be a little more diligent in returning to them.

As a foodie, it's easy to get caught up in chasing the next new restaurant. It's kind of like wanting a puppy because it's cute. But eventually the puppy grows up and isn't so cute anymore, but it's still a living, breathing creature and needs love and attention.

The Perfect Answer...

Finally, I had the perfect answer to a question I get on a daily basis. See, as a restaurant critic, people want me to recommend "the perfect" restaurant for them. Problem is, restaurants are a lot like clothes. One size or one particular style usually doesn't fit all, and I rarely know enough about the stranger in front of me asking me to give him the perfect recommendation. It's a complicated question.

But today, I had an answer. My monthly pest control guy happen to ask me what it was that I did all day long, squirreled away in my office clicking away on the keyboard. I mentioned that I wrote about food, specifically restaurant reviews for PHOENIX Magazine. His eyes lit up and he said, and I quote: "So, for Valentine's Day, what would you recommend that would be special but wouldn't break the bank?"

I got that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look on my face because this question rarely leads to a happy situation for me or the inquisitive one. So I said, well, where do you live? He told me Surprise. Which is east LA (kidding, but might as well be since it is so, so far west from the center of Phoenix).

And then it hit me. Amuse Bouche. It's in Surprise and it's a cozy, French-inspired gem, with charming owners and outrageously delectable food...that won't break the bank. I wrote about the young couple who own Amuse Bouche in a January story for PHOENIX Magazine called "Rising Star Chefs."

I was so impressed with their food (and I clearly kicked myself out of the opportunity to review them since I met them in person for the story) I wrote to my editor before I left their parking lot. And I sent a note to my former editor at The Arizona Republic because I thought that the valley seriously needed to know about this adorable, cracker-box of a restaurant hiding out in the west valley.

So, finally, the inquisitive one was happy, I was happy and I'm pretty sure the young chefs at Amuse Bouche will be happy when they snatch another soon-to-be loyal customer, who happens to live around the corner.

The Show Must Go On

Someone asked me how I approach restaurant reviewing and it made me think of the word collaboration.

There are three components that make up a restaurant experience: the food, the service and the ambience. All three have to work in tandem to create a harmonious experience.

It’s really not much different than what makes a particular TV show your favorite. It takes a unique concept, talented writers, able actors and good directing to create a worthy show.

It’s the same for a good restaurant, but the players are the chef and/or kitchen staff, the servers, and the management.

The making of a good restaurant doesn’t solely rest on the shoulders of a chef, although the food is certainly the main event. The service – from how you’re greeted at the door to the attentiveness of your server during your meal – is a supporting player as is the overall ambience (décor, lighting, background music, and general “vibe”).

When one of the collaborators isn’t carrying his or her weight, the experience quickly gets off kilter. Sometimes we can overlook the infractions. Some diners could care less about the service if the food is solid. Others will forgive food faux pas if the service is personal and attentive. And ambience is just icing on the cake to some.

I approach each restaurant with the intent of evaluating all three components. Food always counts for more in my reviews (who goes to a restaurant and doesn’t eat?), followed by service and then ambience. I don’t apply the same strict standards to a sandwich shop as I do a fine dining restaurant. I take into account the audience the restaurant is serving.

At the end of the page, it’s just an opinion, albeit an educated one. And, yes, I love my job. Dining in a restaurant is my favorite show of all.

Jackson Dining Roundup

The town of Jackson, in the Jackson Hole valley isn’t much different today from when I visited 10 and nearly 20 years ago. The Cadillac Grille still glows with neon and blinking lights on the west side of the square. Steel-horse Harleys line the front porch instead of the four-legged variety. The Bunnery still has long lines of hungry tourists waiting for a taste of home cooking and freshly squeezed orange juice. Away from the square, Bubba’s Bar-B-Que is still cranking out some of the tastiest brisket and ribs this side of Texas. I adore their sweet, smoky, oniony baked beans.

There are plenty of new restaurants, tucked in with the old ones along the square and adjacent streets. The town’s even added a couple of Thai restaurants, although I didn’t make it to either of them. Something about Thai in the western themed town just doesn’t sit right in my saddle.

One notable new restaurant is Trio, An American Bistro, just a block off the square. Three chefs from the Snake River Grill (on the square, and one of the top restaurants in the entire valley) left to form Trio. The modern space features an open exhibition kitchen, a wood burning grill and a short but snappy wine list. We tasted the best Caesar salad we’ve had in a long time, topped with a paper thin crostini and a meaty white anchovy fillet. The Roma pizza, righteously smoky from the wood grill, was studded with spicy sausage, ricotta, thick Roma tomato slices and whole basil leaves.

The most unusual pizza belongs to the Snake River Brewery. Chunks of spicy chorizo are tempered with cool, fresh ricotta and slices of fresh peaches add a sweet note. There’s nothing unusual about the gold medal Snake River Pale Ale, but there is something special about the hopped up organic brown ale, OB-1. SRB claims to be the only Wyoming brewery crafting an organic beer. We love it. It wasn’t sweet like most brown ales, thanks to a heavy hand with the hops.

One thing is for sure, we weren’t lacking for choice in dining in and around Jackson. We ran out of time well before we ran out of options.

Pet Peeve # 1

As a restaurant critic, I am a little more critical than the average diner. I’m supposed to be, though. It’s what I get paid to do. That said, when I’m dining just for the sake of feeding myself, not “working,” I can’t help but notice things.

Take for example, my meal last night at the darling CIBO restaurant near downtown Phoenix. On an early Tuesday evening, the place is jam packed. Good for them! (The first restaurant we stopped at has closed already even though it just opened…times are tougher than usual for restaurants nowadays.)

We waited only a few minutes for a table, and not much longer for the food. But before we had even finished half our starter, an over-eager beaver tried to swipe the dish away. She swoops back in again as we’re finishing up our outrageously delicious pizza. My honey still had a piece on his plate, and I had my last piece in my hand, and she still tried to remove our plates. Oh, and she grabbed my beer bottle, too, which still had about a quarter of brew left.

Note to restaurant managers and owners: train your staff to be a little more patient, and allow diners to actually finish their meal before you clear the table. Make your guests actually feel like guests -- not cattle that need to be herded into the next pen.

Outed...Sort of...

It's true.... I'm writing for PHOENIX Magazine now. I had only told a couple of friends because I wanted to see my name in print before I started telling the world. Just because I turned in articles, didn't mean they would soak up ink on a page, I thought. But today, a friend forwarded me a blog entry from the Phoenix New Times restaurant critic, Michele Laudig.

She writes in her 6/19 post that the magazine unveils three new scribes, including me. I haven't seen the July issue yet...it's June 20, for crying out loud... but regular subscribers apparently get the next month's issue about two weeks before it hits the newsstand.

I am extremely honored to write for PHOENIX Magazine. I loved reading long-time critic Nikki Buchanan's reviews, even though I didn't always agree with her, nor experience the same dining experience she did that formed the basis of her reviews.

Not often, but occasionally, I thought her choice of words were brutal and unnecessarily hurtful. There are ways to convey you have issues with food and/or service without interjecting heart-piercing words. But I admired her talent for writing -- describing food so that the reader could taste it -- and her wealth of knowledge about food and restaurants in general.

Before I agreed to write for the magazine, I met with the editor. Rumors were swirling about the circumstances of Buchanan's departure. It was a "He said, she said," scenario. I grew up as the daughter of a newspaper editor. My Dad had built a figurative firewall around his news/editorial department that the advertisers were constantly trying to climb over. He never once caved in even though the pressure, at times, was unrelenting.

I felt comfortable enough after my meeting with the editor to start writing for the magazine, and I made it excruciatingly clear that I would bail if anything happens in the course of my work for them that compromises my standards. I do understand that advertisers bring money to the table. I also understand that the real customer is the reader, and the reader has every right to expect and receive credible information from the writers that is in no way influenced by advertising dollars.

My goal, in writing for PHOENIX Magazine, as it is for every other client I write for, is to be honest, to entertain, and to share the passion of food I have with all who read what I write.