The ultimate guide to the top Phoenix restaurants

Finding great restaurants in Phoenix isn’t hard. The hard part is choosing which to highlight.

“Still,” I thought to myself, “if we go for broke and put together a massive list of 100 Phoenix restaurants you should try, there will be plenty of room for all of my favorites.”

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Compiling this list was as agonizing as it was exhilarating. I could have easily filled a list twice this size with places I love to eat, and deciding where and how to draw the line was torture.

In the end, though, I settled on one single criterion for deciding which restaurants to include: How excited I am for you to try them.

I hope you find them as exciting as I do.

Al-Hana at Baiz Market

We rightly lament the Valley’s lack of a grand food-market culture, but it’s worth remembering the spirit of the world’s grand markets is alive in Phoenix, albeit in smaller doses. There is a buzz about Baiz that can’t be faked, a feeling of community grounded in food, where Middle Eastern, Arabic and North African cultures come together. Al-Hana, the diminutive restaurant squeezed into a corner of Baiz, remains one of the city’s best spots to sample Arabic cuisine, a bustling place to catch a bite while taking a break from shopping for groceries. Breads are tender and steaming, topped with seasoned beef, spinach and cheese or a simple sprinkling of za’atar. Familiar mezze like baba ghannouj and hummus have an atypical richness (along with a proper helping of olive oil). Rotisserie-seared shawarma is juicy and gorgeously seasoned, piled atop rice or wrapped up with garlicky toum and pickled vegetables. Al-Hana might lack the polished efficiency of its contemporaries, but its pure flavor and energy cannot be denied.

Details: 523 N. 20th St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-252-8996, baizmarket.com.

All Pierogi Kitchen

A tip for aspiring restaurateurs: Open an affordable joint serving hearty, Eastern European fare in the West Valley and buy some duffel bags to carry all of the cash around. If there’s one thing my readers seem to feel they lack, it’s meat-and-potatoes fare with a little Old-World charm. It’s here, but it can be a little hard to find, and All Pierogi kitchen is a standout. A no-frills Ukrainian mom-and-pop joint run by friendly folks, this is the go-to spot for pierogi, cabbage rolls and sausage. It’s distressing how many restaurants around town prepare this kind of food with the grace and dexterity of a drunken elephant, but that only makes it easier to appreciate a place that gets it right. Pierogi, whether boiled or pan-fried, are tender and flavorful; meat fillings have just the right texture and consistency; and sauces taste fresh and well-seasoned. Add a little soup, some vegetable salads, reasonable prices and you have some of the best Old-World cuisine in town.

Details: 1245 W. Baseline Road, Mesa. MAP IT! 480-262-3349, allpierogi.com.

Alzohour

A meal at Alzohour is a long, lingering affair and that’s as much a matter of necessity as it is of design. Zhor Saad practically runs the restaurant by herself, which means dinner is outstanding, but it’s going to take a while. Unceremoniously tucked into a market and clothing store, Alzohour is a place where diners can drown in the sultry scent of Moroccan fare that’s equal parts bold and lusty. Arabic classics of variable quality round out the offerings, but the meat of the menu is in dishes like a silky, perfumed lamb tagine, meat dripping off the bone, heavy with saffron and spice. Couscous billows with steam, saturated with vegetables and topped with tender meats. Bastilla — a nutty ground chicken pie wrapped in crisp phyllo and dusted with cinnamon and sugar — is a mind-bending blend of savory and sweet. On the purely sweet end of the spectrum, Saad’s kunafeh is next level, almost custardy with a deep golden, crisp crust and a heavy dose of pistachio. Not all will appreciate the market-chic environment, but none of that matters when your host prepares everything with a warm heart and you’re lost in a saffron-scented cloud.

Details: 7814 N. 27th Ave., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-433-5191, facebook.com/alzhourrestaurant.

Andreoli Italian Grocer

Giovanni Scorzo was regional Italian before regional Italian was cool. When the Calabrian native tired of trying to please the white tablecloth crowd, he opened Andreoli, a casual neighborhood grocery with a few tables that serves some of the best traditional Italian fare in town. This culinary curmudgeon with an uncompromising vision is as likely to be in the front of house sipping espresso and watching soccer as he is to be in the back of house running the kitchen. His work is a devastating combination of simplicity, technique and killer ingredients that exposes the purveyors of oafish red sauce concoctions and pretentious, overworked modern Italian for the charlatans they are. Grab a loaf of craggy bread, order a perfect pasta or grilled seafood from the white board, snag some sticky cornetti marmelatta or crisp, layered sfogliatelle from the pastry case and consider yourself lucky that such a skilled Italian traditionalist calls Scottsdale home. 

Details: 8880 E. Via Linda, Scottsdale. MAP IT! 480-614-1980, andreoli-grocer.com.

Asian Hong Kong Diner

True Cantonese may be an endangered species, but a few hot spots for the gentle flavors of southern China still remain, Asian Hong Kong Diner chief among them. Sparingly decorated and showing its age, this strip-mall stalwart makes its impact on the plate; and a dual-menu system makes it the ideal place to ease neophytes into more traditional fare. The black-rimmed American menu features juicy pot stickers, crisp orange beef and sizzling pepper beef. But drift over to the red-rimmed traditional menu and the skies open. Meltaway duck is wrapped in a crisp taro crust; West Lake soup suspends gossamer threads of egg in a silky broth; braised tofu bubbles in a clay pot with sweet shrimp. And whole fish pulled live from the tank is buried in scallions and ginger and splashed with a bit of soy and shaoxing. Keep exploring, and when you’re ready for the stuffed duck feet, they’ll be waiting for you.

Details: 9880 S. Rural Road, Tempe. MAP IT! 480-705-7486. Search "Asian Hong Kong" on Facebook.

Atlas Bistro

Todd Sawyer’s restaurant is a chameleon. Quiet and unassuming, hidden in a strip mall on the fringes of the Old Town spotlight, it changes its colors through the years as chefs come and go. It’s also one of the most reliably excellent restaurants in the Valley — a BYOB, to boot — that has never been better than it is under the auspices of chef Cory Oppold. The stark antithesis of flashy downtown Scottsdale just a few blocks to the north, Atlas Bistro piggybacks on AZ Wine Company, an intimate room with minimal decor and sound-deadening walls. While the setting is modest, the plates are filled with pyrotechnics, showy but thoughtful multi-component affairs that nimbly merge disparate flavors and techniques to compelling effect. Think slivers of tender beef tongue pastrami with a honey mustard emulsion; kombu-marinated black cod with yerba mate béarnaise; or a goat cheese mousse spiked with Jidori chicken skin crisps and poached cranberries. Wine geeks love the capable bottle service and, as a bonus, Oppold’s vegetarian creations are some of the best in town.

Details: 2515 N. Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale. MAP IT! 480-990-2433, atlasbistrobyob.com.

Balkan Bakery

A touchstone of Phoenix’s community of Bosnian expats, Balkan Bakery is a charming little coffee and bakeshop with just enough tables for me to justify calling it a restaurant. The Osmic family first opened Balkan Bakery a decade ago, and while a short list of common baked goods and sweets are solid offerings, it’s the Bosnian specialties that make Balkan Bakery a destination. Aldijana prepares the cevapi, seasoning and stuffing the little sausages in preparation for the grill, where they take on a crisp char. Her brother, Jasenko, handles the stuffed breads, stretching a thin layer of dough over the prep table, stuffing and rolling it into a tube and, with a quick flick of his wrist, curling it into a tight swirl the size of a lunch plate. Stuffed with meat (burek), cheese (sirnica) or spinach (zeljanica), it’s divine, contrasting a light, crisp shell with a steaming, tender, layered interior. 

Details: 1107 E. Bell Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-996-4598, facebook.com/BalkanBakery.

Bar Pesce

Beginnings don’t come much humbler than a counter at the Steven Paul Salon, but Cullen Campbell’s evolution from goofy genius behind one of the Valley’s all-time zaniest guerilla operations into one of its most vibrant, alluring and sure-handed chefs is a testament to his culinary acumen. At Bar Pesce — the recently refreshed moniker for what used to be Crudo — Italy may be the inspiration, but this born-and-bred Southerner is after something a little more lusty, weaving crudi, composed cheese plates and succulent meats from smoke and olive oil and acid. Uni is dressed with shaved shallot and avocado, while bottarga and i’itoi onions give sweet raw yellowtail a salty, spicy sting. Burrata is amped up with an unctuous pancetta vinaigrette; and ricotta is simply paired with walnuts and desert honey. Meltaway semolina gnocchi drown in a succulent lamb neck sugo, while lamb belly gently braises in milk and mirepoix. Even when Campbell’s flavors are light, they’re distilled down to a knee-buckling, vivid intensity. And the modest prices on the prix fixe aren’t a mistake — not only is this one of the best restaurants in town, it’s also one of the best bargains.

Details: 3603 E. Indian School Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-358-8666, barpesce.com.

Barrio Cafe

Silvana Salcido Esparza was hardly a timid wallflower to begin with, but she set off a technicolor bomb of sass, graffiti and regional Mexican flavor on 16th Street when she opened Barrio Café in 2002. Not to knock Sonora, but Mexico is a big country and most of its cuisine is still brutally underrepresented in Phoenix. Barrio Café gives the central and southern Mexican states a local voice. Cochinita pibil — pork steamed in achiote and sour orange — sneaks up from Yucatan. Puebla’s symbol of national pride, chiles en nogada, are stuffed with a chunky, fruit-laced picadillo and drenched in almond cream. The moles of Oaxaca — from a dark and smoky mole negro to the herbal, pungent pipian verde — are gorgeously complex. The kitchen throws caution to the wind, more concerned with dropping flavor bomb after flavor bomb than dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s. Fun-loving, sometimes irreverent servers are the antithesis of the standard-issue scripted corporate dullards.

Details: 2814 N. 16th St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-636-0240, barriocafe.com.

Barrio Cafe Gran Reserva

If Barrio Café is where Silvana Salcido Esparza slings unbridled, brash flavor, Gran Reserva is where she takes that burst of energy and focuses it to pinpoint intensity. Tucked into a tiny wedge of a dining room with a wraparound view of Grand Avenue, Gran Reserva is Barrio Café’s elegant cousin, draped in white tablecloths and colorful trompe l’oeil. An a la carte menu rehashes many of Barrio Café’s greatest hits, but Gran Reserva’s mission is revealed in the menu de degustación, where Mexican fare reaches levels of refinement not seen elsewhere in the Valley. Sous vide duck meets sultry cranberry mole; suckling pig confit is treated with chile de arbol demiglace; and a cap of lime foam and queso Oaxaqueño sits half melted, wrapped in fragrant hoja santa with a touch of chile and peanut oil. The best part? At less than $50, the degustación menu is priced for the people, and a bevy of vegan dishes make Gran Reserva a viable option for anyone.

Details: 1301 W. Grand Ave., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-252-2777, barriocafe.com.

Binkley's

Kevin Binkley is a titan of the Phoenix food scene who climbed to the top of the mountain and decided he hated the view. He achieved the dream of a local restaurant group with enough concepts to make some coin but not so many that he had to sacrifice his integrity. But Binkley shut it all down for one reason: He isn’t a restaurateur and he desperately missed the kitchen. Now, the celebrated chef with obsessive focus and puckish tendencies has turned a Phoenix bungalow into his personal culinary playground — and everyone is invited. Fine dining has never been so welcoming, like a private dinner party that starts with a series of modernist amuses on the veranda; moves into the bar for snacks like grilled soppressata chips and confit duck wings; and ends in the dining room with coddled goose eggs, sweet pea agnolotti and whole roasted lamb. There is no fourth wall here (literally). Roll up your sleeves, step into the open kitchen and lend a hand. There’s plenty of joy to go around.

Details: 2320 E. Osborn Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-388-4874, binkleysrestaurant.com.

Bitter & Twisted Cocktail Parlour

Bitter & Twisted suffers no shortage of praise — local and national — where the libations are concerned. But its sneaky, under the radar bar bites deserve their fair share of attention, too. Bob Tam’s menu — an irreverent foil for Ross Simon’s encyclopedic cocktail list — isn’t meant to be taken too seriously, but Tam’s puckish Asian fusion creations reveal his deep understanding of the underlying cuisines. The Angry Panda wraps crisp peanuts, chiles and dried anchovies in cool lettuce leaves with fresh herbs. Seoul fried chicken gets a sweet and spicy lift from watermelon kimchi with a dab of sesame ranch. Chinese buns are filled with deeply caramelized chunks of pork belly, a throwback to Tam’s days at San Francisco’s Betelnut. The Dragon Dumpling Burger is a juicy beef and pork concoction that channels the spirit of xiaolongbao into a burger slathered with mayo and Sichuan pickles, complete with dipping sauce. Best part? It all goes well with booze.

Details: Luhrs Building, 1 W. Jefferson St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-340-1924, bitterandtwistedaz.com.

Bourbon Steak

Steakhouses in Phoenix — and the steaks that comprise their menus — tend to shy away from the ritzier end of the spectrum, but if you want to drop some serious coin on some jaw-dropping beef, Bourbon Steak is the place to be. Under the auspices of celebrity chef Michael Mina and executive chef Sara Garrant, the flagship restaurant at Fairmont Scottsdale Princess sports a contemporary elegance and refinement. If you’re looking for a dry-aged tomahawk rib eye, they’ve got you covered. But the offerings also drift into esoterica, such as a butter-poached Snake River Farms rib eye cap that’s so tender and sweet it’s almost like a different animal altogether. If you really want to go big, the roster is deep with domestic and imported premium beef that runs up to $45 per ounce. Excellent sauces abound and sides show a penchant for Asian flavors, like mushrooms plied with white soy and mirin; or a dynamite short rib fried rice with kimchi and chunks of sweet Chinese sausage. It has the luxury prices to match, but, put simply, Bourbon Steak is operating at a higher plane than the rest of the pack.

Details: Fairmont Scottsdale Princess, 7575 E. Princess Drive. MAP IT! 480-585-2694, scottsdaleprincess.com/sip-savor.

BP Street Cafe

It’s hard to believe there was no Malaysian restaurant in the Valley until three years ago (looking at you, Indonesian). But the Pua family came to the rescue in 2015 and still stands tall as the lone ambassador for Malaysian cuisine. Thankfully, it’s a charming, casual little spot with an extensive menu filled with dishes unobtainable anywhere else in town. Batter-dipped chicken wings are fried to a shattering crisp and served with two spicy-sweet sambals — the “mama” and the “papa.” Roti canai pairs thick, oily flatbread with a rich coconut-based curry sauce for dipping and slurping. Laksa — the iconic Malaysian soup that takes many forms — is done here as a rich and fragrant coconut and lemongrass broth with noodles, seafood and bean sprouts. Sweet, steamed Hainan chicken is paired with rich, oil-splashed rice. And char kway teow — a universal crowd-pleaser — is a warm and steaming stir-fry of thick rice noodles in a sweet and comforting soy-based sauce.

Details: 1845 E. Broadway Road, Tempe. MAP IT! 480-268-7331, bpstreetcafe.com.

The Breadfruit & Rum Bar

The expectations we bring to the table are often unfair. Jamaican food is hole-in-the-wall, mom-and-pop fare, a quarter of fiery jerk chicken or slippery stewed oxtails ladled into a to-go container with rice, beans and plantains, right? But island cuisine can bring an air of refinement just like any other, and here’s the proof. Jamaican-born rum savant Dwayne Allen takes a deep dive into his spirit of choice, slinging educational flights and stellar cocktails in the dark and cozy Rum Bar. Meanwhile, the immensely talented Danielle Leoni has adopted the flavor and fire of her husband’s homeland, leading a kitchen that puts Jamaican fare in a context rarely seen in the States. Scallops seared in cast iron get a splash of Appleton rum for a sweet, rich glaze, while vinegary sauteed shrimp explode with cayenne and habanero. Pan-fried escovitch fish is buried under a pile of sultry vegetables. And Leoni’s house jerk — whatever it seasons — pulls no punches, an uncompromising blend of vinegar, spices, chiles and herbs that is as flavorful as it is incendiary. 

Details: 108 E. Pierce St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-267-1266, thebreadfruit.com.

Bri

Young, upstart chefs who launch shoestring operations where they can experiment and play are vital to any serious dining scene. Vince Mellody is playing that part at one of the Valley’s more quirky and delicious recent openings. Housed in a decidedly chill Coronado bungalow without a hint of pretention or ego, Bri (rhymes with pie) slings an ever-changing collection of small, creative plates, most of them forged in a South African-style grill over live coals. The room is comfortable and Mellody’s food is on point. But Bri’s greatest asset, perhaps, is a menu that’s almost pointedly out of lockstep with its contemporaries. Frico caldo, Italian pan-fried cheese and potato cakes, sport a gorgeous lacy crisp and a dollop of tomato relish. Tender, charred pork ribs are laced with fermented black beans and crisped shallots, while slow-roasted duck breast gets a topping of crisp chile sauce. A pureed Persian salad called bademjan employs eggplant to devastating effect, charred jet-black to lend a little bitterness and a ton of depth.

Details: 2221 N. Seventh St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-595-8635, brion7th.com.

Buddyz

Look, never mind the awkward name or the fact that I’m putting Chicago pizza on a list of restaurants in Phoenix. Truth is, Buddyz makes a better deep dish than most of the joints back home, and I include the big, beloved goons like Lou Malnati’s, Giordano’s and Gino’s East. All of which is to say that somebody has to sing the praises of this place. A recent expansion effort has brought Buddyz out of the pastures of Queen Creek, which is a good thing; it was flying under the radar for too long and there’s nobody who doesn’t need this in their life. A thick, crunchy crust gets a none-too-subtle (but not overwhelming) puddle of melty cheese and a crown of bright, chunky tomato sauce, seasoned just so and spruced up with the requisite punch of dried herbs. Equal parts dinner and architecture, it’s a gooey, hedonistic mess. Deep dish isn’t pizza? It’s a casserole, you say? Call it whatever you want, tough guy. Now shut up, eat it and then tell me to my face that it didn’t taste good.

Details: 18423 E. San Tan Blvd., Queen Creek. MAP IT! 480-822-1225. Gilbert and Phoenix locations at buddyzpizza.com.

Cafe Ga Hyang - NOW CLOSED

As unassuming strip mall restaurants go, Café Ga Hyang is one of the best. Sun Johnson, who was born and raised in Korea, teamed up with Nick Rocha to open a Korean restaurant that’s a rarity in the Valley. Why? It doesn’t act as though Korean cuisine is exclusively about grilled meat. Forget the tabletop grill. Ga Hyang doesn’t have them — it doesn’t need them. Start with duk boki, a mix of chewy rice cakes and tender fish cakes, swimming in a bath of pure onion and chile fire. Follow with haemul pajeon, a thick, crisp pancake stuffed with sweet scallions and seafood of all manner. When it’s a furnace outside, take refuge in mul naeng myun, slippery noodles with beef brisket and slivers of crisp, fresh fruit in a mustard-spiked beef broth that is literally iced over. Or warm yourself with a pure, milky sul long tang, slow-simmered from beef bones. The best thing here comes free of charge. Johnson’s banchan — the collection of pickled, marinated and fermented little dishes that accompany the meal — run circles around every other Korean restaurant in town. Nobody even comes close.

Details: 4362 W. Olive Ave., Glendale. MAP IT! 623-937-8550. Search "Cafe Ga Hyang" on Facebook.

Carolina's

The local bastions of old-school Arizona-Mex can vary sharply in quality, sometimes within the same establishment. That’s no less true of the original Carolina’s near downtown Phoenix, where some dishes are better than others. But what Carolina’s does right is very, very right, and a diverse crowd that seems to represent the entire city comes down every day to take part in it. If we’re being honest, Carolina’s is a decrepit hole in the wall with little more than folding tables and chairs and a couple of soda machines. But what comes out of the kitchen is nothing less than the soul of Phoenix. Carolina’s was making giant flour tortillas decades before California decided it was cool, and they’re still some of the best — made to order and hot enough to burn your tongue. They make some fabulous, soupy burros, wrapped around stewed green or red chile, though the less iconic Oaxaca Special — with beans, cheese and chorizo — may be my favorite. Better yet, go ahead and get a machaca chimichanga. Here, it’s light and crisp, almost like pastry, and they might be the best argument for the form around.

Details: 1202 E. Mohave St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-252-1503, carolinasmex.com.

Casa Filipina

It’s more than a little unfair that any conversation regarding Filipino cuisine has to first get past Americans’ rocky relationship with offal. Shouldn’t we have gotten over this by now? I say a lusty celebration of all things fragrant and funky is the cure, and Casa Filipina is where we’re going to throw the party. The poster child for laid-back international fare, Casa Filipina is a cozy mom-and-pop shop that joins a bakery and restaurant. The former fills multiple cases with wild and colorful sweets; the latter fills a menu with homestyle classics of Filipino cuisine. The uninitiated can ease into things with papery-crisp, cigar-shaped lumpia — Filipino spring rolls — or tortang talong, a gentle, comforting omelet stuffed with eggplant and pork. Speaking of pork, swineophiles will lose their minds over the crisp pata, a massive pork hock fried to a golden crisp; or the lechon kawali — chunks of crispy pork with a liver-enriched, sweet-and-sour sauce. When you’re ready, the funky, peanutty intensity of the kare kare or the dinuguan — a gorgeously thick, black vinegar and pork blood-enriched stew — will be waiting for you.

Details: 3531 W. Thunderbird Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-942-1258, casafilipina.com.

Chou's Kitchen

When we trace back the breakneck evolution of the Valley’s regional Chinese scene, the opening of the original Chou’s Kitchen in Chandler sticks out as a watershed moment. Cantonese, Sichuan, Hunan, sure, but who had even heard of Dongbei, nestled up to Korea in the far northeast reaches of the country? For many, Sunny Zhao and Lulu Zhou’s dumpling-dispensing destination was the first glimpse into a world of Chinese cuisine that stretched far beyond Americanized versions of midcentury standbys. Out with the rice, in with the wheat, formed into nubby chilled noodles dressed with tingling oil, baked into bread stuffed with leeks and rolled into the wrappers for Chou’s signature beef pies. The size of a hamburger patty with the juice of a soup dumpling and a sizzling, crunchy crust, they’re not to be missed. The winter gets cold in northwestern China, and Chou’s packs the kind of hearty soups and stews meant to insulate you from the cold and generate some heat. Not that we need more heat in Phoenix, but it’s a fascinating subset of Chinese cuisine to explore.

Details: 910 N. Alma School Road, Chandler, 480-821-2888. MAP IT! Also, 1250 E. Apache Blvd., Tempe. 480-557-8888, chouskitchen.com.

Chula Seafood

Chula Seafood isn’t a market, it’s a full-blown happening. Sure, this is casual fare served from behind a fish counter, but its diminutive footprint belies the oversize impact it’s having on the local scene. Jon Heflin and Hogan Jamison truck in stellar seafood from San Diego three times a week, and the few staples they can’t catch or trade themselves are flown in from excellent sources. What isn’t sold in the case or distributed to local restaurants goes to chef Juan Zamora, who has crafted a compact but robust list of bowls, salads and sandwiches with everyday character and a hint of refinement. Cool mounds of cubed fish are joined by shishito peppers, slivered watermelon radish or pickled beech mushrooms. A delicately composed tostada or bruschetta might light up the specials board. Wednesday’s green chile tuna melt with fresh confit tuna and kimchi chimichurri has developed a fan club. There’s a reason the line is out the door and you can’t swing a stick in the place without hitting at least three chefs who are grabbing lunch on the way to work.

Details: 8015 E. Roosevelt Road, Scottsdale. MAP IT! 480-621-5121, chulaseafood.com.

Confluence

Brandon Gauthier has finally moved out of Kevin Binkley’s shadow, and how. Formerly the right-hand man of Binkley’s culinary operation, Gauthier recently took over Carefree’s Café Bink and converted it into Confluence, a new spot that has the Valley’s fine-dining geeks all atwitter. In appearance, this is still a casual restaurant, little changed from the Café Bink days. But while the plates show Binkley’s influence on Gauthier’s work, this wild, creative fare is worlds apart from the bistro classics that previously anchored the space. A roasted peach dusted with cocoa and drizzled with honey plays against a creamy, funky Epoisses cheese fondue. A gloriously salty pork broth with simmered cockscomb works its way into the fibers of a slab of smoked pork belly, lightened with shiso and edamame. Fish dishes are tight. Golden pan-seared red snapper contrasts earthy lentils with sweet grapes and a light broth set ablaze with Calabrian chile. Halibut sits in a lush corn crema with little nibbles of Spanish chorizo and crispy garlic chips. Just a few months old, Confluence is doing some seriously exciting things and may be the sleeper hit of 2018.

Details: 36889 N. Tom Darlington Drive, Carefree. MAP IT! 480-488-9796, restaurantconfluence.com.

Cotton & Copper

Cotton & Copper is only just getting rolling, but it feels like Tamara Stanger has just been set loose. Having parted ways with Helio Basin Brewing Co., Stanger teamed up with Sean Traynor to open a neighborhood restaurant/watering hole in suddenly red-hot south Tempe. The joint is no-frills, casual and a little raucous with a young drinking crowd. Cocktails, appropriately light and summery in the early going, have made for a nifty collection of refreshing concoctions. Stanger’s food, meanwhile, already is equal parts sharp and fascinating. Corn dumplings that resemble hush puppies sit in a thin, onion-rich Parmesan cream that’s good enough to be served on its own as a chilled soup. Forget the veggie burgers — Stanger builds a “burger” from celeriac and roasted vegetables that’s more satisfying than most meat substitutes. Medallions of beef swim in a Cheddar-scented beef jus; and the Belgian hare, with root vegetable pipian and a bit of apricot, is dynamite. Whatever you do, don’t skip the pie.

Details: 1006 E. Warner Road, Tempe. MAP IT! 480-629-4270, cottonandcopperaz.com.

Crepe Bar

Jeff Kraus is a madman in the best possible way. It took a bit of a culinary kook to open a restaurant based around creative crepes in south Tempe long before south Tempe suddenly became cool. And thank heavens Kraus has no fear, because six years later, Crepe Bar still thrives, its namesake serving as a foundation to pitch a technicolor panoply of Kraus’ wild concoctions. His crepes might sport pork belly in a sweet espresso-maple glaze, drizzled with chile aioli under a soft, runny egg. They might be rolled and crisped like dosa, to be shattered and dipped in hummus with crispy chickpeas. They could be turned into chips to make crepe chilaquiles or smothered with jerk sausage and Fontina. They could be plied with lemon curd and hibiscus jelly, maple butter with bruleed bananas and pecans; or formed from buckwheat with Sonoran honey. Not to knock tradition, but creations like these are an expression of pure culinary joy — the intersection of a wild imagination and obsessive attention to detail with the humble crepe as the hook.

Details: 7520 S. Rural Road, Tempe. MAP IT! 480-247-8012, crepe-bar.com.

Crujiente Tacos

There is a meaningful and important discussion to be had about the taco’s popularity in American cuisine, what it represents, and how it reveals both noble and ugly aspects of our relationship with Mexico. There is also the fact that Rich Hinojosa’s creations — whatever you wish to call them — are flat-out delicious. In Crujiente’s case, consider the taco a template, where tortillas serve as the flavorful foundation for meticulously crafted small plates that draw from Hinojosa’s heritage, his fine-dining pedigree and a wide palette of international flavors. A gorgeous slip of Texas wagyu is dressed with puckery pickled shimeji mushrooms, cilantro mojo and a dab of karashi mustard. A steaming wedge of crisp tempura-fried avocado pairs with black beans and pickled onions and chiles. Fish, tender and juicy or deftly fried, is perfectly seasoned and dressed. And the tacos Crujientes, piled into a craggy, crisp shell, exemplify the Mexican-American crossover dishes of Hinojosa’s San Antonio upbringing.

Details: 3961 E. Camelback Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-687-7777, crutacos.com.

Detroit Coney Grill

I’m not sure there can be a more ironclad seal of approval than a born-and-raised Chicagoan choosing a Detroit-style hot dog joint for his top 100 list. What can I say? David Najor serves a flipping-good dog at the Tempe original (the downtown Phoenix location is independently owned). This is a decadent coney we’re talking about: A gently spiced, natural-casing dog with a killer snap — made for Najor by a Michigan sausage maker — drowning in meaty sauce, onions and a squirt of yellow mustard. Fries are spot-on, too, freshly cut and fried with a little crisp and a steaming, tender core. The burgers are just as good. Tiny golf-ball-size wads of meat are smashed on the griddle and cooked to a juicy, sizzling crisp, then layered with cheese and stacked tall. They’ll happily make them larger or smaller, but three to five of these skinny patties is the sweet spot, in my book. Grab a Faygo and a bag of chips and you’re good to go. Sure, it’s just burgers and dogs. But burgers and dogs are rarely so correct.

Details: 930 W. Broadway Road, Tempe. MAP IT! 480-219-7430, detroitconeygrill.com.

Don & Charlie's

Call it a swan song if you must, but Don & Charlie’s appearance on the first 100 list might be its last. A boutique hotel is in the works for the corner where Don & Charlie’s now stands, and pending city approval, Don Carson stands poised to enjoy a well-deserved retirement. But at the very least, this Chicago-style tavern with enough sports memorabilia to fill a museum will have one final sendoff during spring training. This is the kind of fare that appeals to the baseball crowd: chopped liver with crunchy bagel chips; scampi “Chicago style” (that’s shrimp DeJonghe for those in the know); baby back ribs sauced and charred to a smoky crisp; and a meat locker full of steaks, including a killer prime rib eye with a deep, blackened crust. This is well-prepared, easy-to-enjoy food served in a comfy old Barcalounger of a restaurant, and she’ll be dearly missed.

Details: 7501 E. Camelback Road, Scottsdale. MAP IT! 480-990-0900, donandcharlies.com.

Drunken Tiger

Korean booze food may not have the refinement or the history of the fare at places like Café Ga Hyang and Hodori, but it is A Thing, and Drunken Tiger is the kind of dark, electric, soju-fueled establishment where its glorious unsubtlety can romp unchecked. Justin Park’s food is meant to be consumed with alcohol, plain and simple, and it’s riotously fun. Tteok kochi — chewy little rice cake nubbins basted with gochujang, broiled to a sticky crisp and dusted with crushed peanuts — is the ultimate bar snack, as far as I’m concerned. The fire chicken is a rare spicy dish that lives up to its name, swimming in a screaming hot chile gravy beneath a blanket of melted mozzarella. Crispy chunks of fried chicken abound, whether doused in a sweet and spicy Korean red sauce, served with slivered onions and a creamy dressing or offered as padak — topped with a mountain of shredded scallions and a sweet soy-mustard dip. And the seafood pancake is an unusual take thereon, loose and eggy on the top with a delicately crisped bottom. Come for the food, stay for the booze and karaoke, then order a second round of snacks.

Details: 1954 S. Dobson Road, Mesa. MAP IT! 480-755-7555, drunkentigeraz.com.

Durant's

If Jack Durant were still alive, he’d have me kneecapped for printing a cavalcade of backhanded compliments. On recent visits to the Phoenix icon’s namesake steakhouse, I’ve had immolated chops, sauteed spinach that’s mostly unseasoned cream and salads composed of limp, wilting spring mix. And yet I find myself unable to leave Durant’s off my list. Not because I’m afraid to slay a sacred cow — there are enough popular omissions here to jam my inbox with angry reader emails for months — but because goldarnit, I just can’t help but love the place. Durant’s is as much a museum as it is a restaurant, a rare relic of a bygone era filled with red leather banquettes, patterned velvet walls and worn wooden bars. Meanwhile, servers are there when you need them, gone when you don’t, and they hit that perfect note of graceful deference with just a faint, sardonic wink. Restaurants like Durant’s simply don’t exist anymore, except when they do, apparently. I can’t look past what a rare and special place it is, no matter how badly the kitchen overcooks my steak. No, the food isn’t especially good. But I’ll be there, if they’ll still have me, sitting at the bar with a shrimp cocktail and a very large martini.

Details: 2611 N. Central Ave., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-264-5967, durantsaz.com.

El Caprichoso

Tucson can rightfully claim to be the epicenter of the Sonoran hot dog trade, but we aren’t just serving chopped liver up here. Sonoran hot dogs abound, particularly late at night, when the air starts to cool and the temporary street stands set up shop. One crucial quality separates good from the great: toasting. The worst Sonoran dog with a freshly griddled bun will be better than most of those with a steamed bun, but El Caprichoso doesn’t force us to choose. This is the quintessential Arizona street dog — a cheap, low-quality sausage wrapped in crisp bacon with a grocery list of Mexican toppings and a sweet bun griddled to a deep, gorgeous gold. A folding table, a pop-up tent, some fluorescent light and 100-degree temps at 2 a.m. and you have an Arizona rite of passage.

Details: 2826 N. 35th Ave., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-561-3723, facebook.com/sonorandogs.

El Horseshoe Restaurant

Phoenix is replete with dusty, downscale, hole-in-the-wall Sonoran restaurants, but there’s something special about Horseshoe that I just can’t shake. Serving breakfast and lunch to a pickup-truck crowd, Rosa Avitia’s Mexican diner is a casual charmer. There’s something unassuming and honest in her minimal chilaquiles, stale tortillas toasted in oil, doused with fresh salsa and topped with melted mozzarella cheese and a dusting of cotija. A dead-simple birria pairs tender goat with thick corn tortillas, a basic broth that only comes alive when doctored to your taste. But the killer app, so to speak, is the machaca. At so many restaurants, it’s rehydrated sludge with the flavor of acrid pot roast. Here, it’s simple dried beef, pounded and cooked with just a splash of liquid, still dense and chewy — almost jerky-like — and perfect with eggs. The cebada, an horchata-like drink made with barley, is still too sweet, but it’s more flavorful and less overly sweet than most. Served in a giant red plastic cup, it somehow makes the whole meal feel correct.

Details: 2140 W. Buckeye Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-251-3135, facebook.com/ElHorseshoeRestaurant.

Essence Bakery Cafe

It will be a while before Tempe forgives Arcadia for this one. It’s been more than a year since Eugenia Theodosopoulos closed the Tempe location of Essence Bakery Café, and if fans of the original are still a little raw, it isn’t hard to see why. She is an enormously skilled baker who brought her French training to the desert and — this is no easy task — learned to adapt her techniques to our environment. Her delicate macarons are what set the Pinterest crowd on fire. But there are stellar baked goods aplenty, like perfect croissants, crisp baguettes, fruit Danish and seasonal specials like buche de noel. More substantial fare is also a delight. Theodosopoulos makes an excellent turnover studded with crumbled sausage and Gruyere and — to nobody’s surprise — a killer quiche. Come lunchtime, a béchamel-drenched croque monsieur with a bit of jalapeño buzz or a silky chicken pot pie are both winners. And she sneaks in a little bit of her heritage in the form of a gloriously light spanakopita.

Details: 3830 W. Indian School Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-296-4958, essencebakery.com.

Fabio on Fire

Has the last decade seen a more exciting development in the West Valley’s dining scene than Fabio on Fire? This is the kind of place that restaurateurs will tell you isn’t supposed to succeed on the left half of the map. And yet there it is: A tiny independent serving straight-up traditional Italian classics, made with exceptional care and steadfastly refusing to drift into red sauce territory to please the masses. Fabio Ceschetti’s decision to abandon Scottsdale in favor of Peoria has paid him in spades, and it wasn’t a complex equation. This is the soul of casual Italian dining, serving wood-fired pizza and paste fatte in casa, such as lasagna plied with meaty ragu and smooth besciamella or airy gnocchi simply dressed in a silky, Gorgonzola-laced cream. Pizzas are spot-on, a gentle balance of chew and crisp and deeply developed flavor, topped with just a few perfect ingredients. Small, family-run spots that do so little but do it so well are the backbone of Italy’s restaurant culture, and the perfect antidote to a barrage of chains that overpromise and underdeliver.

Details: 8275 W. Lake Pleasant Parkway, Peoria. MAP IT! 623-680-5385, fabioonfire.com.

FnB

There are restaurants that excel and there are restaurants that capture something essential. There are endless reasons to love FnB, a quirky, cozy space that embodies its proprietors’ penchant for marching to their own beat. There’s Charleen Badman’s preternatural ability to coax vegetables into revealing their truest nature; her talent for sizzling premium proteins on the grill; and Pavle Milic’s zeal for Arizona wines and spirits. But perhaps more than all of that, their work has put a bold stamp on the Valley’s emergence as a maturing, sophisticated culinary scene that can run with the big boys without feeling the need to mimic them. Potted smoked trout rillettes join rustic bread and a rainbow of pickled vegetables. Creamy Peruvian aji amarilllo is wrapped in a crisp spring roll shell. And the Gilfeather rutabaga is a witty play on a classic baked potato, plied with ginger creme fraiche and chives. The way Badman ropes in diverse international influences while expressing Arizona’s underappreciated agricultural bounty is unparalleled. If one restaurant best exemplifies the blossoming of our cuisine over the past decade, it’s FnB.

Details: 7125 E. Fifth Ave., Scottsdale. MAP IT! 480-284-4777, fnbrestaurant.com.

Franco's Italian Caffe

Franco Fazzuoli almost got away. He followed his daughter to New York, and it seemed that his charming destination for classic Italian fare might be lost forever. But in 2012, he returned to Old Town and opened up a time portal on Scottsdale Road, leading straight into a bygone era of white tablecloths, soft music, servers who know when not to talk and Italian fare that sports a little class while satisfying on a deep, visceral level. Photos of Marlon Brando and Sophia Loren line the walls; a pungent swipe of fresh garlic lines the bruschetta; and a crisp, perfectly seasoned crust lines the exterior of the orecchie elefante, Fazzuoli’s take on a juicy, thick-cut veal chop Milanese. Franco’s gently tiptoes the line between Italian and American, embracing some of the New World’s meatier, saucier habits without drifting into full-blown red sauce territory. This is classic cuisine done right, a bit of old-school elegance and a nod to the days when we used the word “continental” without some of the era’s clunky heft. And if anything starts to feel a touch too rich, a taste of Fazzuoli’s sweet, airy merenghata will take care of that... subito.

Details: 4327 N. Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale. MAP IT! 480-481-7614, francosscottsdale.com.

Fry Bread House

It’s unfortunate the cuisine of indigenous cultures exists on the periphery in the Valley, mostly relegated to a handful of ingredients adopted by contemporary chefs. It’s even more unfortunate the one dish that has achieved widespread attention — fry bread— isn’t rooted in indigenous people’s centuries of history and culture. Rather, fry bread was a food of necessity prepared with government rations during a time when that same government was evicting them from the land that had sustained their culture. Still, here’s a dish that has become an emblem — both good and bad. The Fry Bread House, recognized by the James Beard Foundation as one of America’s Classics, makes by far the most delicious version I’ve tried in Phoenix. The first taste of Fry Bread House’s steaming, resilient bread with a gorgeous golden crisp is an “Aha!” moment, whether it’s piled with beans and meaty chile or dusted with cinnamon or powdered sugar and drizzled with honey.

Details: 4545 N. Seventh Ave., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-351-2345, facebook.com/frybreadhouse.

Gallo Blanco

It isn’t every day a dearly departed favorite comes back from the dead. When Gallo Blanco left the Clarendon Hotel, chef Doug Robson promised the white rooster would rise again. It took a few years, but the new Gallo Blanco is worth the wait. Robson’s casual, stylish spot in the Garfield district is leading a new wave of contemporary Arizona Mexican fare that’s smartly conceived, crisply executed, made with top-notch ingredients and a bargain for the price. Thick tortillas cradle taco fillings that get a quick sizzle in a wok. Salads composed with pristine produce boast a textural pop that gives them uncommon appeal. Quick-cured fish dishes like coctel de mariscos and ceviche de pescado are light and vibrant. And drippy, hedonistic affairs like the egg-soaked naco torta or the envuelto — pork al pastor suspended in gooey, griddled cheese — are completely irresistible. Toss in JT Taber’s breezy cocktails and it’s hard to want for more in a casual Mexican restaurant. If this is the wave of the future, we’re in for a good ride.

Details: 928 E. Pierce St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-327-0880, galloblancocafe.com.

Ghost Ranch

Aaron Chamberlin’s latest is here, and it looks like a keeper. Just as Asian fusion was newly reborn as a subtler, more sophisticated version of its schlocky ‘90s self, Chamberlin and his chefs, Rene Andrade and Roberto Centeno, are doing the same with the Southwest fare of yore, making it lighter, fresher and more thoughtful. A couple of months into its run, Ghost Ranch is making a mark. A stylish New Mexico-inspired room designed by Gennaro Garcia proves an airy and colorful home to dishes that reference the history of Southwest cuisine while bucking its more dated conventions. Pumpkin soup is smooth and lush, its richness derived from caramelization rather than abundance of cream. Enchiladas are fried to a crisp and lightly dressed rather than smothered in an earthy, smoky sauce made with Chimayo chiles. The chile relleno is roasted rather than fried, stuffed with intense mushroom duxelles and topped with a nest of crispy leeks. And in a true nod to the times, one of the strongest dishes on the menu is the plato vegano, a gorgeous and hearty collection of roasted vegetables with a splash of coconut milk and a chipotle cashew cream.

Details: 1006 E. Warner Road, Tempe. MAP IT! 480-474-4328, ghostranchaz.com.

The Gladly

Much hullabaloo has been made of Bernie Kantak’s Original Chopped Salad, and yes, that quirky blend of arugula, tomato, smoked salmon, freeze-dried corn, couscous, pepitas and currants in buttermilk dressing is a charmer. But the soft-spoken Kantak is so much more than a salad slinger. The Gladly, his sophomore effort, is on point, a casual and stylish American restaurant that isn’t afraid to have fun. Sassy, hearty and just a little wonky enough with the fundamentals to satisfy, The Gladly slings a mean chicken liver pate with pistachio and sage mustard. Plus, a gorgeous duck meatloaf enriched with foie gets a smoked cherry demi-glace. Larded scallops are plied with a cola gastrique; and coffee-rubbed short ribs are eye-opening in more than one sense of the term. What’s more, Donald Hawk’s raw bar — offering straight-up chilled seafood alongside creations like his signature ahi crudo with brown-butter vinaigrette and raising relish — is the icing on an already formidable cake.

Details: 2201 E. Camelback Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-759-8132, thegladly.com.

Glai Baan

I try to make it policy not to use the “B” word, but I’m going to anyway. Glai Baan is the best Thai restaurant in Phoenix. Cat Bunnag’s achingly charming little bungalow took a while to find its footing (though accurate at the time, I wish I could have that review back). But in 2018, it’s consistently spitting fire. With the ease of a seaside beach house and the warmth of a neighborhood bar, Glai Baan is a time-slowing destination that combines a mellow room with explosive dishes. That doesn’t always mean chile heat (nor should it). Coconut-marinated pork skewers are tender and sweet; deep-fried son-in-law eggs are dressed with a tart, punchy sauce; and mackerel fried rice is a steamy, comforting affair with a distinctive fermented richness. But when the fire arrives, it’s on. Funky salted crab papaya salad is dense with bird chiles. Kapro gai kai dao perks up minced chicken and a lacy egg with basil and no shortage of chiles. And a complex panang curry has some heat, but not at the expense of layer after fragrant layer of fresh, intense flavor. We were long overdue for a place like this.

Details: 2333 E. Osborn Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-595-5881, facebook.com/glaibaanaz.

Green Corner

There is a part of me that felt kind of ridiculous for including a random little falafel/shawarma/kebab joint on a list of my citywide favorites. Right up until that part of me was stuffed in a sack and tossed in a river by the part of me that can’t recall having more juicy, succulent, perfectly grilled meats anywhere else in town. I surrender. Yes, Green Corner looks like an antiseptic neighborhood counter-service joint, but just try to keep me away from the kifta kabob, scented with sumac and cinnamon, tender and meaty and dripping with sizzling lamb fat. You’ve seen this menu a hundred times before, and standards like baba ghannoug, hummus and kibbeh are all solid, if less than stellar. But anything off the phalanx of rotisseries or the kitchen’s grill is something to target, whether it be charred shawarma, plump chicken thighs or lamb chops seared on the grill. The truth is, most of the Valley’s widely revered Middle Eastern restaurants don’t season and cook their meats nearly as well as Green Corner.

Details: 1038 W. Southern Ave., Mesa, 480-835-2313. MAP IT! Also 1065 W. Queen Creek Road, Chandler. 480-553-7011, greencorneraz.com.

Hana Japanese Eatery

Lori Hashimoto’s laid-back family affair is rightly lauded as one of the best neighborhood sushi joints in town. Here, you’ll find a mix of classic maki and nigiri built on a solid foundation of excellent seafood and rice alongside Hashimoto’s more brash, contemporary creations. Among them: the Hana Egg, a soft-boiled, tempura-fried egg paired with a zippy mentaiko sauce; and grilled lamb marinated with miso and pomegranate juice. This is a family that can bring the wow factor if you want it. But the unsung heroes of the menu are Hana’s classic Japanese comfort dishes, whose charms are rooted in culinary tradition. Chicken karaage is perfectly seasoned, crisp and juicy. Bento boxes feature popular items like teriyaki and tonkatsu, but they’re anchored with simple simmered vegetables. Chilled soba noodles come with ethereal tempura and an icy, crystal-clear tsuyu dip; and ramen is firm to the tooth and bathed in lush, flavorful broths. The gleaming raw fish and colorful oyster shooters may win Instagram, but while plenty of neighborhood sushi joints can feed your eyes, few can feed your soul like Hana.

Details: 5524 N. Seventh Ave., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-973-1238, hanajapaneseeatery.com.

Hearth '61

Mountain Shadows is back from the dead, and it has been resurrected in style. The new, contemporary resort is less the swingin’ hot spot of its ‘60s heyday and more a luxe oasis that’s built as a picture frame for nearby Camelback Mountain. At Hearth ’61, chefs Charles Wylie, Richard Garcia and Alfred Muro walk the tightrope of producing inventive cuisine while adhering to the constraints of being the resort’s primary restaurant, and the restaurant is finding its stride. A swanky and lively room complete with a water feature is the proper home for a spicy, rough-hewn ahi tartare dressed with crisp, fresh vegetables or roasted prawns with andouille-flecked polenta. Soups like a squash puree or a lobster bisque have a silky feel and bold intensity; and a side of ancient grain risotto is a nutty delight. Hefty short rib agnolotti splashed with horseradish cream are like an Italian-Polish crossover dish; and simple roasted meats are beautifully prepared. But I’m still stuck on the swordfish steak, a juicy specimen set ablaze by an herbal, green harissa.  

Details: Mountain Shadows Resort, 5445 E. Lincoln Drive, Paradise Valley. MAP IT! 480-624-5400, mountainshadows.com/dining/hearth.

Hodori

Korean barbecue restaurants (mostly of dubious if not tragic quality) may have captured the zeitgeist the past few years. The cure for this epidemic of meaty myopia rests in places like Hodori. An ancient stalwart of the Valley’s Korean restaurant scene, Hodori continues to stand tall as one of its best and most welcoming. Kimchi jun with a gentle sourness and prominent burn sizzles; and bosam — steamed pork with spicy fermented accompaniments and cabbage to wrap — is a decadent platter that could feed a few dozen. Soups and stews are the thing, whether they include delicate tofu swimming in a sea of soondubu fire or milky dogani tang, an ox knee and brisket elixir with a gentle, restorative countenance. And don’t worry. If you insist on meatifying, the kitchen does a very respectable job with standards like juicy chok kalbi and daeji bulgogi in a fire-laced marinade.

Details: 1116 S. Dobson Road, Mesa. MAP IT! 480-668-7979, hodoriaz.com.

Hot Noodles, Cold Sake

Josh Hebert’s ramen shop isn’t precisely traditional, but neither is Hebert. A Western-trained chef who spent a year working in Japan, Hebert has developed a very personal style of ramen that might get under the skin of the tonkotsu fanboys, but it’s hard to see that as a bad thing. It isn’t that he hasn’t done his homework. He’s a student of the cuisine who made his name blending French and Japanese flavors and techniques in upscale environs. But like so many shops in Japan that are playing with convention, Hebert’s humble ramen bar uses the framework as a means of self-expression. What he’s expressing is one of the best bowls of noodles in town. The goma is the signature item, a sesame-spiked pork broth with a nutty countenance. But the gently smoky shoyu and the chile-spiked seafood ramen are also personal favorites. Spiked with some unconventional ingredients and possessed of non-traditional tweaks, they’re solidly grounded in careful technique.

Details: 15689 N. Hayden Road, Scottsdale. MAP IT! 480-432-9898, hotnoodlescoldsake.com.

Hue Gourmet

Phoenix is loaded with Vietnamese restaurants that are cursed with a tiring sameness. Some do it better than others and a few are quite good, but the rote collection of pho, bun and broken rice dishes has achieved the formulaic predictability of a fast-food chain. At Mekong Plaza, the sit-down restaurants in the front may be more popular, but the food court in the back is where you’ll find the action. Hue Gourmet features the flavors of central Vietnam, and if your experience with Vietnamese food is limited to your neighborhood pho joint, this will be a game-changer. Chewy, thick tapioca noodles and chunks of crab comprise the viscous, briny banh canh cua. Mi quang marries turmeric-spiced noodles with shrimp, pork, vegetables and crisp sesame crackers. Banh beo, glutinous rice coins, are dotted with dried shrimp and served with a lip-puckering sauce. The bun bo hue is the genuine article — a fiery, funky lemongrass soup thick with beef and pork, rather than the doctored pho you’ll find elsewhere in town. And speaking of pho, don’t bother: They don’t make it, and you won’t miss it.

Details: Mekong Plaza, 66 S. Dobson Road, Mesa. MAP IT! 480-251-7429, huegourmet.net.

Ingo's Tasty Food

Is it wrong that my favorite Bob Lynn concept is the quirky little burger stand that seems like a side project he threw together in his spare time? Yeah, Chelsea’s Kitchen makes the Arcadia moms swoon; Buck & Rider’s parking lot is jam-packed at all hours with silver and black SUVs; and La Grande Orange has practically achieved historical landmark status at this point. But I love Ingo’s sun-dappled patio and circular dining bar. I love those tart, mustardy deviled eggs and shattered potato chips with yogurt and searing hot sauce. I love the crispy fried sandwiches, both chicken and fish. I love the barbecue and bacon-laden Paris Texas burger. I love the Farmer’s Daughter burger, with tart sauerkraut and funky fol epi. And I love that I can eat one of those burgers and not feel like I just consumed half a cow. The thing is, Lynn is a student of careful design and he runs a tight ship. When you’re talking about a neighborhood burger stand, that makes it just a little special.

Details: 4502 N. 40th St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-795-2884, ingostastyfood.com.

J&G Steakhouse

It would be easy to dismiss J&G Steakhouse as the usual celebrity-chef-in-absentia marketing gimmick. Though I’m a hopeless fanboy, by all public accounts, Jean-Georges Vongerichten has barely set foot in Arizona since J&G opened. But to overlook it on that basis would be a grand disservice to Jacques Qualin, who has taken the international super chef’s vision and made J&G Steakhouse his own. Yes, the steaks are excellent, and if you’re the saucy type, they’re accompanied by the best in town. But to my mind, that’s the least interesting part of the menu. I geek out on piping-hot Dungeness crab fritters with cool Asian pear and a sweet sauce laden with black pepper. I swoon over chilled crab and avocado with a smooth and creamy cocktail sauce tarted up with brandy. I marvel at ruby-red, sweet-and-sour beet risotto with a puckery lemon foam. I salivate over seared beef cheeks with a buttery habanero hot sauce. And I chill with baked Alaska, like a creamy bruleed hedgehog, cool pineapple sorbet waiting within. I have a Vongerichten trading card pinned up in my cubicle. But to me, this is Qualin’s restaurant.

Details: The Phoenician, 6000 E. Camelback Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 480-214-8000, jgsteakhousescottsdale.com.

JL Smokehouse

There’s restaurant ‘cue, there’s competition ‘cue and then there’s JL Smokehouse. That’s the kind of stridently unpretentious hole-in-the-wall barbecue dive that fulfills all our romantic storybook notions of what American smoked meat should be. James Lewis didn’t even have a restaurant to call home until 2017, before which he sold barbecue from a guerilla street operation parked under a bridge. But now with a south Phoenix storefront of his own, it’s far easier to sample his ruby ribs with tender chew, juicy and succulent smoked chicken and a barky, chaotic tangle of pulled pork that’s the best I’ve tried in the Valley. His understated, Zen-like sauce is a supplement, not a distraction, and a killer cup of peppery stewed greens headlines unusually good sides. The secret? The ebullient Lewis will insist it’s what the “JL” in JL Smokehouse stands for: “Just Love.”

Details: 1712 E. Broadway Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 501-353-6844, jlsmokehouse.com.

Jollof King

Outside of Ethiopia and Morocco, the entire continent of Africa is almost unrepresented in the Valley’s restaurant scene, which makes this recent addition among the most exciting. The atmosphere is essentially nonexistent and the line can be long and slow. But none of that matters when you’re presented with a smooth, elastic round of yam fufu, bathed in a spiced tomato soup brimming with goat meat. This is west African cuisine — hewing closest to Ghanaian — built on seasoned starches, meats and thick, sultry stews. The chicken stew is deep and ruddy with the rich sweetness of reduced tomatoes, while the bean stew is round and robust with beans that have perfect bite. Jollof rice arrives with tender chicken and slippery sweet plantains. Waakye — Ghana’s take on rice and beans — goes equally well with stewed goat or a mound of seasoned spinach. And the peanut soup defies the sweet conventions to which Americans are accustomed, striking a deliciously deep, earthy note.

Details: 325 W. Elliot Road, Tempe. MAP IT! 480-550-7292, jollofkingaz.com.

Kai

Phoenix is doing its damnedest to drive fine dining to extinction, but there is Kai at Sheraton Grand at Wild Horse Pass, hanging on by its fingernails, stubbornly refusing to let the format die. Under the direction of chef Ryan Swanson, Kai is as good as ever, and maybe better. From the room to the service to the plates, here’s a rare restaurant that exudes refinement at every turn, weaving a palette of indigenous ingredients into a striking collection of dishes. A soup of pureed squash takes on the sultry scent of mesquite-charred hahl with hits of sweet i’itoi onion and tart red berry dust. A mélange of pickled veggies join cactus shoots, planted in rye soil and bathed in saguaro mist, creating a wild to behold and wilder to eat vegetable forest. And meaty buffalo tenderloin joins asparagus-scented cholla buds and tepary beans, sweetened by saguaro syrup. Kai has one foot in the past, but it’s looking to the future. Here’s hoping fine dining of this caliber continues to have one.

Details: Sheraton Grand at Wild Horse Pass, 5594 W. Wild Horse Pass Blvd., Gila River Reservation. MAP IT! 602-225-0100, wildhorsepassresort.com.

La 15 y Salsas Restaurant Oaxaqueño

Elizabeth Hernandez’s plucky little Oaxacan wonder is a prime example of why people like me are obsessed with the impossible task of stepping through the front door of every single restaurant in town. Iridescent exterior paint job aside, Las 15 Salsas looks like any old neighborhood taco joint, conjuring visions of greasy gorditas and immolated carne asada. What it contains, however, is an explosive menu of regional Mexican specialties, from crisp, bean-smeared tlayudas to thick, steaming molotes. The heart and soul of the menu is an assortment of moles — all five of them. Hernandez serves the familiar rich and ruddy mole coloradito and the popular chocolate-spiked mole negro, bursting with the complexity of burned chiles. But she also slings a vibrant, herb-dense mole verde; a smooth and lightly sweet mole Amarillo; and the even harder to find mole estofado, which plays like a Mexican-Mediterranean mashup. Bring some friends and try them all. Object lessons don’t get much more delicious than this.

Details: 722 W. Hatcher Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-870-2056, facebook.com/La15YSalsas.

La Piazza al Forno / La Piazza PHX

When Vera Pizza Napoletana certification hit the public’s consciousness, we all became enraptured by a club of fastidious culinary historians touring the world to ensure your Neapolitan pizza was, in fact, just the kind of Neapolitan pizza served in the city of its birth. Maybe we got a little carried away with the notion that our pizza needed a seal of approval from overseas. But it speaks to Justin Piazza’s care and attention to detail that his pizzerias are one of only two restaurant groups in the Valley to get the official benediction from Napoli. What Piazza prepares, both in his Glendale and downtown Phoenix locations, is a faithful rendition of the classic — flour, water, olive oil and salt crafted into a chewy, flavorful dough with a blistered cornicone and a paucity of quality toppings. None of which is to downplay the antipasti, paste and more heavily laden pizzas, but the menu’s raison d’être is anything with the initials “D.O.C.” at the end.

Details: 5803 W. Glendale Ave., Glendale. MAP IT! 623-847-3301, lapiazzaalforno.com. Also, La Piazza PHX, 1 N. First St., Phoenix. 602-795-7116, lapiazzaphx.com.

La Piñata

Arizona-Mexican cuisine isn’t so much a paradigm as it is a continuum. Our local fare is represented by a range of Mexican restaurants, some more closely resembling the traditional fare of northern Mexico and some — like La Piñata — more heavily influenced by American conventions. This joyously colorful retro AZ-Mex stalwart is where you go for ladlefuls of tingling chile sauce, gobs of sour cream and oodles of melty yellow cheese, a breed of naturally occurring fusion fare all its own. Cheese crisps are a model for the genre, but even more decadent is the Mary Lou — a stoner mashup of a dish that folds an entire cheese crisp around a core of molten red or green chile.  Enchiladas are soft and tender, filled with flavorful meats and completely smothered in a ruddy, spicy bog of chile sauce. Crunchy tacos and flautas are piled with chopped tomato and icy crisp shredded lettuce. Even though I’m an unadorned chimichanga evangelist, here’s the place where letting them smother that crisp shell in a bucket of sauce feels like the only way to go.

Details: 5521 N. Seventh Ave., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-279-1763, lapinatarestaurantaz.com.

Lamp Wood Oven Pizzeria

Chris Bianco inspired a generation of Arizona pizza makers and, simply put, Matt Pilato is one of the best. In a town bursting at the seams with wood-fired pizza, Pilato has focused an obsessive attention to detail on local conventions to create a signature style that’s descended from Bianco, but entirely his own. Oft overlooked due to its distance from the city’s core, Lamp serves a pizza that’s modestly topped, roundly flavored and crisper than most. Pizza menus that stretch into double-digit offerings tend to get diluted, but every one of Pilato’s 28 creations is well-balanced and carefully thought-out. The Scientist offsets a plethora of salumi with dense, meaty Castelvetrano olives. The Gepetto takes a sweet and pungent route, pairing Pilato’s boozy house sausage with caramelized onions and blue cheese. And though it’s one of Phoenix’s prime specimens, the pizza isn’t even the best thing on the menu. That title belongs to the mignulata, a type of Sicilian bread that sports a tender, layered core stuffed with pungent onions, sausage and pecorino enveloped in a crackling crisp crust. 

Details: 8900 E. Pinnacle Peak Road, Scottsdale. MAP IT! 480-272-6889, lamppizza.com.

The Larder + The Delta

The most exciting thing about The Larder + The Delta is that this might just be the beginning of what Stephen Jones can do. Jones had been around the block, cheffing his way through a series of Valley gigs before hitting his stride with a lunch-counter version of The Larder + The Delta. Now, finally with his own space and kitchen, he’s turning up the heat. His modern Southern fare with a little local flair and a dash of Chicago soul is electric, and now it’s unchained. The Low Country perlou has gotten a king-size upgrade, its Carolina Gold rice now piled with clams, mussels and colossal prawns. A Two Wash Ranch chicken strikes a pose, one talon in the air, resting on a panzanella built on cucumber, Arizona melon, cornbread and plenty of sweetened vinegar. But perhaps nothing exemplifies Jones’ work more than his hoppin’ John. Some call it sacrilege, but pulling out the pork to put the focus on the sizzling rice, red peas and herbs is like seeing the flavors through a microscope for the first time. The Larder + The Delta was already one of the Valley’s most exciting spots. Now we get to see what Jones can really do.

Details: Portland on The Park, 200 W. Portland St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 480-409-8520, thelarderandthedelta.com.

Little India

Less of a restaurant and more of a makeshift snack shop run from the back of a neighborhood market, Little India specializes in chaat, the savory little roadside and street-cart morsels of Indian cuisine. This is as informal as it gets. Grab a ticket, mark off a few selections, poke your head into the kitchen and try to flag down somebody to take your order. Wedge yourself into a tiny table, and in a matter of moments you’ll be feasting on pani puri, diminutive spheroid crisps ready to be stuffed with potato and chickpeas and a splash of tamarind chutney. Papri — small, thin wafers — are smothered with yogurt, a mix of fragrant chutneys and sev, a flurry of tiny, crisp noodles. The bada paav — a fried potato burger, for lack of a more elegant description — is hearty, playfully spiced and served up on a no-frills sesame burger bun. And a panoply of sultry curries and stewed vegetables stand at the ready for sipping and dipping. Plates are small and the prices are smaller, making it easy for those unfamiliar with chaat to dive in and explore.

Details: 1813 E. Baseline Road, Tempe. MAP IT! 480-730-7770, littleindiaaz.com.

Little Miss BBQ

Sometimes, all it takes is one strong back to pick up the team and drag everybody forward. Let’s not sugarcoat it. Though the Valley was awash in barbecue joints before Scott Holmes hit the scene, a couple of exceptions aside, they ranged from serviceable to shameful. But even the standouts couldn’t touch the product Little Miss BBQ put out from day one: A trayful of succulent smoked meat that turns dedicated carnivores into blubbering fools willing to stand in line for hours in 115-degree heat. Holmes has achieved a quantum leap in Valley barbecue, and now, everybody else — some respectably so — is playing catch-up. It has become an arms race, folks, but Holmes still holds the ultimate doomsday device: A peppery smoked brisket that oozes fat with a gentle nudge, flakes into silky bliss on the roof of your mouth and packs a smoky wallop. Taking nothing away from Holmes’ ribs, house-made sausage and killer grits and beans, the fatty brisket is the dish that pushed Phoenix barbeque to the next level.

Details: 4301 E. University Drive, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-437-1177, littlemissbbq.com.

Lon's at the Hermosa

Lon Megargee was a legend, and he left behind one heck of a legacy. It’s easy to quip that Phoenix is still green, an immature city without a strong sense of history and time. Then you descend the narrow staircase for a special dinner in the timber-supported basement at The Hermosa Inn where Megargee (reputedly) sold bootleg hooch and hosted illicit gambling, and it’s a stark reminder that the history is here if you’re willing to look. Lon’s at The Hermosa is bursting with rustic charm, not to mention the beauty of one of the best dining terraces in town, and Jeremy Pacheco is so perfect for the place he came to work here twice — returning after a stint in Las Vegas because he couldn’t stay away. This is contemporary dining, but there’s a lingering hint of cowboy cuisine in Pacheco’s menu, from a smoky tortilla soup with pulled chicken to a confit duck crepe with spiced mole to gorgeous pecan-roasted lamb. If Mangalitsa is on the menu, don’t miss it. Pacheco knows his swine.

Details: Hermosa Inn, 5532 N. Palo Cristi Road, Paradise Valley. MAP IT! 602-955-7878, hermosainn.com.

Los Andes Peruvian Cuisine in Phoenix

Oscar Graham, the Valley’s itinerant authority on Peruvian cuisine, has struck again, and his latest restaurant might be his best. Peruvian is such a fascinating cuisine, blending Spanish, Japanese, African, Italian, Chinese and indigenous influences into a complex jigsaw puzzle where you can still see the seams but the pieces fit perfectly. The Valley’s Peruvian restaurants all have their specialties, but I find myself returning to Los Andes for dishes like fiery ceviche plied with sweet potato and onions and spiked with pisco. Causa — cool mashed potatoes tarted up with lime and yellow chiles and layered with shrimp or chicken salad — has a light, fresh pop. And skewers of grilled beef heart bring the smoky, meaty spice. Lomo saltado, always a crowd-pleaser, is a hearty stir-fry of beef and potatoes. Graham makes my favorite aji de gallina in town — a bizarre and utterly comforting dish of chile-spiked stewed chicken in a creamy morass of potatoes, Parmesan and ground walnuts.

Details: 6025 N. 27th Ave., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-368-9205, facebook.com/losandesperuviancuisine. 

Millie's Cafe

Millie’s may be spartan — a few booths, a bunch of folding tables and a modest amount of art on the walls — but the food positively vibrates with color and life. Really, this is all I want in a Puerto Rican restaurant. Now with a little room to maneuver (their previous space could seat eight if everybody held their breath), it’s a little easier to bring a crowd and work your way through a list of Puerto Rican classics, still charmingly unpretentious, served in baskets and Styrofoam trays. Pasteles — pork-laced tamales steamed in banana leaves — have a smooth texture and herbal fragrance. For mains, starch lays down the baseline in the form of rice and pigeon peas or beans with squash; and they pair with luscious meats like roasted pork with a citrus marinade or gloriously tender baked chicken. Plantains are abundant: As crisp tostones, sweetly caramelized amarillos or substituting as bread for the jibarito, which is a steak sandwich laden with cheese, vegetables and garlicky mayo. And the Mofongo is outstanding, a mash of plantains, pork and enough garlic to make you think they buy it by the truckload.

Details: 1916 W. Baseline Road, Mesa. MAP IT! 480-223-8217, facebook.com/milliescafeaz.

Mora Italian

Maybe the most wildly anticipated opening in recent memory, Mora Italian — predictably — has come to rest somewhere between the life-changing culinary experience Scott Conant’s fans were expecting and the overrated faceplant the celebrity schadenfreude crowd was hoping for. Which is to say, this is an exciting place that’s sometimes more solid than sensational, but it can hit some screaming highs when it’s firing on all cylinders. Mora is busy and loud and where you want to be when you want to be seen, managing to stand out even on a strip as brash and brazen as Seventh Street’s new restaurant row. Antipasti like a crisp fritto  misto or creamy carbonara suppli hit the mark. But the polenta bosciaola — pairing rich polenta with an intense brew of seasonal mushrooms — is a flat-out stunner. Pastas like the black campanelle — a smart and spicy spin on clam pasta — and meltaway lobster gnudi are strong, and grilled meats and fish can hit similar highs. But the best dish on the menu may still be Conant’s signature pasta al pomodoro, as simple and perfect as they come.

Details: 5651 N. Seventh St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-795-9943, moraitalian.com.

Mowry & Cotton

It’s tough to stifle a chuckle when the “casual” restaurant at one of the swankiest resorts in town cites Arizona’s dusty, Wild West history as the inspiration for a spare-no-expense space that’s gorgeously appointed in crisp leather and smooth sanded wood. But while Tandy Peterson’s menu displays a sneaky level of refinement commensurate with The Phoenician’s usual luxury, it’s applied to dishes that evoke a kind of rustic sass. Mowry & Cotton’s stunning oven is a far cry from a campfire, but char and smoke permeate her creations. Robust, earthy flatbreads take atypical toppings like mushrooms with apricots and horseradish. Smoked yogurt and mustard greens dress barbecued beets; and crisp roasted potatoes are plied with fiery chorizo and hot sauce. A whole bass turned inside out and roasted to a juicy crisp makes for delectable do-it-yourself tacos. And grilled pheasant — deeply lacquered with an anchovy wash and buried beneath broccolini, almonds, citrus and cherries — is a remarkable dish.

Details: The Phoenician, 6000 E. Camelback Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 480-423-2530, mowryandcotton.com.

Naked BBQ / NakedQ

Playing second fiddle to Little Miss BBQ probably gets old, but not so old that I’d be willing to bet against Oren Hartman enjoying the attention. Hartman slings what might be the best brisket in town not made by a guy named Holmes. He does it with a Southern Pride smoker, which usually raises the floor and lowers the ceiling. I say “usually” because Hartman plays an instrument designed for volume like a virtuoso, coaxing a surprising level of subtlety out of meat that’s more gently seasoned than some of the widely popular styles — everyday rather than occasion barbecue, if you will. Of course, brisket isn’t the be-all and end-all. His ribs, pulled pork and hot links join some solid sides to make for one of the most consistently excellent barbecue options in town. Sauces are numerous and thoughtfully concocted, but they’re best used sparingly. The place is called “Naked” for a reason.

Details: 2340 W. Bell Road, Phoenix, 602-439-4227. MAP IT! Also, 10240 N. 90th St., Scottsdale. 480-912-2102, thenakedbbq.com.

Nishikawa Ramen

We haven’t achieved top shelf ramen in the Valley just yet, but boy howdy, have we come a long way from even three years ago. Among the best of the newcomers is Nishikawa Ramen, which recently opened a second Valley location. Nishikawa serves solid gyoza and surprisingly excellent takoyaki, crisp and creamy with a nice nugget of octopus in the center. But the ramen is the thing here, and pork broth is Nishikawa’s medium. It’s a creamy and rich tonkotsu with a luscious, clean scent, and it serves as the base for six bowls, all of which are quite good. The straight tonkotsu with skinny Hakata-style noodles is lush, with tender pork chashu and a bump of pungent fish powder. Nishikawa’s miso ramen substitutes a more substantial kinky noodle along with the requisite corn, while the curry ramen is a nice change of pace. The signature bowl, however, is Nishikawa’s best. Laced with black garlic oil and fried onion, the Nishikawa Black lends a nice allium pungency and sweetness to an already exquisite broth.

Details: 1901 E. Ray Road, Chandler. MAP IT! 480-306-6349. Also, 3141 E. Indian School Road, Phoenix. 602-368-8774, nishikawa-ramen.com.

Noble Eatery

It started simply enough for Jason Raducha, hawking bread at local farmers markets to a crowd that couldn’t understand why a 2-pound, long-fermented country loaf forged from heritage grains should cost twice as much as a 1-pound factory loaf that was little more than fancy sandwich bread. In a rare victory for quality and care, Raducha is now rightly recognized as one of the Valley’s most important bread makers, and his “modern wood-fired deli,” Noble Eatery, carries that ethos through to the lunch counter. Tender ciabatta is stuffed with fresh mozzarella and slivered finocchiona. Robust toast is smeared with creamy ricotta and topped with roasted mushrooms. The wheaty crust of a diminutive pizza is topped with potatoes and a whiff of rosemary. The tuna salad, gently dressed with olive oil and premium vinegar, is still a showstopper. At a time when most “feel-good” eating is factory-farmed bird food, we need more of this breed of rugged culinary honesty.

Details: 4525 N. 24th St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-688-2424, nobleeatery.com.

Nobuo at Teeter House

Few restaurants in the Valley are taken for granted like Nobuo at Teeter House, and that needs to change. Nobuo Fukuda serves dazzling food that’s smart and precise. But the way he has so naturally married the techniques and ethos of his native Japan to the soul and flavors of Arizona is what makes his work unique. In a historic building subtly adorned with Japanese accents, his contemporary izakaya gracefully marries East and West, pairing tako with tomato and mozzarella, hamachi with grapefruit and avocado, tuna with roasted beets, and saikyo miso with foie gras. Moreover, Fukuda goes as humble as crisp tonkatsu sandwiched between slices of shokupan at lunch, and as refined as a delicate chawanmushi duo — cold and hot — served by appointment at the four-seat counter as part of his omakase. If you glimpse beneath the surface, Nobuo at Teeter House is as much about Arizona as it is about Japan. Seeing desert flavors and products focused through a Japanese lens is nothing short of revelatory.

Details: Heritage Square, 622 E. Adams St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-254-0600, nobuofukuda.com.

Nocawich

The loss of Noca restaurant is a wound that still stings, even four years later, but Eliot Wexler’s Tempe sandwich shop is a soothing salve. Noca was defined by Wexler’s obsessive food-geek palate. Nocawich is no different, slinging a short list of sandwiches and salads composed from stellar ingredients like Biellese salumi, Snake River Farms beef, Russ & Daughters lox and H&H bagels. The Italian Stallion layers killer giardiniera with slivers of fine salumi; and the Clubber Lang, with house roast beef and spicy provolone, conveys all the punch of its namesake. Wexler’s patty melt is a refined take on the genre made with Gruyere and a slick bordelaise; and his “What the cluck?” is probably the best fried chicken sandwich in town, with seasoned fries carefully engineered to a precise crunch. A breakfast burrito spiked with chimichurri crema and crispy potatoes is a game changer. Deep in Arizona State University territory with a menu almost entirely priced in the $8 to $12 range, it’s priced for a student’s budget. Let’s hope they appreciate what a gem they have there.

Details: 777 S. College Ave., Tempe. MAP IT! 480-758-5322, nocawich.com.

Ocotillo

This place fascinates on a number of levels. Approaching Ocotillo is like entering the quad of a culinary campus — a smartly designed compound that combines restaurant, event space, coffee shop, public park and biergarten all into one. It’s a study in urban oasis, connecting space, food and community. But from a culinary standpoint, Ocotillo is remarkable in the way it takes the spirit of the tiny restaurants that have shaped contemporary Arizona cuisine and finds a way to deliver that upstart ethos on a large scale. Snappy vegetable dishes like smoked beets with ricotta and pistachios or a whole head of cauliflower roasted to a deep, nutty brown with an aleppo vinaigrette and fresh herbs showcase fine produce. Robust pasta dishes like pappardelle in a rich ragu join meaty mains like mesquite grilled chicken, loaded with local honey, dates, citrus and chiles. This is the desert expressed on a plate in a restaurant that isn’t a sneaky, in-the-know hot spot. Put another way, Ocotillo is proof of concept that this new wave of Arizona cuisine needn’t be reserved for the fooderati.

Details: 3243 N. Third St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-687-9080, ocotillophx.com.

Old Town Sarajevo

The Bosnian War of the 1990s displaced millions of people, thousands of whom resettled in the Valley to create a transplanted community half a world away from home. Of course, communities need community gathering spots, and Old Town Sarajevo is one of Phoenix’s most prominent, serving Bosnian cuisine since 2001. A casual café gives way to a country village-themed dining room with a short list of hearty fare. Meaty cabbage rolls are splashed with a tomato-laced broth; bean soup is thick and earthy; and pastries stuffed with meat, spinach or cheese are tender and comforting. The pljeskavica, a monstrous spiced meat patty, is mighty fine. But the stars are the cevapi, juicy little veal sausages stuffed into a steaming bread called lepinja with a cloudlike crumb and a crisp, oily crust. The cevapi are as comforting as they are succulent — served with chopped raw onion, kajmak (a close cousin of sour cream called) and ajvar, a sweet and slightly pungent spread made with roasted eggplant and red peppers. The best way to end the meal? Turkish coffee and good conversation.

Details: 3411 W. Northern Ave., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-680-7726, facebook.com/OldTownSarajevo.

Ollie Vaughn's

It might not stand out at first. Ho hum, another little hipster coffee shop with nice-looking pastries and a smattering of breakfast and lunch dishes. But a few bites deep, Ollie Vaughn’s starts to separate itself from the pack. Flaky, buttery almond croissants, lemon poppy-seed cake with a sharply sour glaze and a light, creamy tomato quiche emerge from the pastry case. Ricotta pancakes are gorgeous, light and tender, with fresh fruit compote and real maple syrup. Stellar biscuits can be smothered with sausage gravy or stuffed with eggs, meat and cheese for a build-your-own breakfast sandwich. Green chile pork, in stripped-down fashion, eschews the soupy standard and shoots instead for an understated burn. Hash browns that have a smooth, creamy core with a shattering, golden crisp — above and beneath — are the Olympian ideal of the form. Lunch excels as well, with a “Cuban” sandwich that features the green chile pork and an almost pungent tuna salad with the sweet-spicy punch of jalapeño marmalade. And to nobody’s surprise, Ollie’s coffee game is strong.

Details: 1526 E. McDowell Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-254-1392, ollievaughns.com.

Original Cuisine

Sichuan cuisine may best be known as a raging electrical storm, widely beloved for its explosive and incendiary nature. But the true depth and breadth of this pillar of the Chinese culinary pantheon is poorly understood in the West, and better revealed at Original Cuisine than anywhere else in the Valley. A new wave of contemporary Sichuan cuisine — rooted in tradition but pushing creative boundaries — has washed over California and finally reached Arizona, where it rests in a well-tended whitewashed box of a restaurant in Mesa’s Asian market district. You can get the saline sting of fuqi feipian; the chile-laced tingle of Chongqing chicken; and a ginger- and garlic-packed mapo dofu, to be sure. But you can also get tender meatballs and slivers of winter melon in a simple, silky broth; moan-inducing slices of slippery pork belly dipped in a pungent sauce; and pickled Sichuan “kimchi” that’s gently tart and almost effervescent. The menu isn’t quite the murderer’s row that it was when the restaurant first launched, but this is still next-level Sichuan fare in a town that desperately needed it.

Details: 1853 W. Broadway Road, Mesa. MAP IT! 480-255-7810, originalcuisinemesa.com.

Otro Cafe

Doug Robson’s other café (the literal translation from Spanish) started as a place for the chef to stretch his wings, especially as he closed his original Gallo Blanco. Now, with the new Gallo Blanco’s simplified menu, Otro stands in starker contrast. They’re both rooted in the same earth, but like the difference between Gallo’s corn tortillas and Otro’s flour tortillas, they explore some of the same themes in different ways. Both have killer breakfasts and sharp salads in common, but Otro maintains the more contemporary taco style, plying succulent pork belly with a sweet glaze and tomatillo relish; or chicken with mushrooms, poblanos and aji amarillo. Mains cast a wider net, letting Robson explore his Vietnamese heritage a bit with fresh spring rolls or caldo de pollo — chicken pho in disguise on a Mexican menu. Spanish and New Mexican influences play stronger as well. And if you’ve been skipping the burgers because who gets burgers at a Mexican restaurant, you’ve been making a huge mistake. They’re some of the best in town.

Details: 6035 N. Seventh St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-266-0831, otrocafe.com.

Pa'La

Chef Claudio Urciuoli’s latest project with restaurateur Omar Alvarez isn’t just a restaurant. It’s a statement. It would be easy to say a chef like Urciuoli belongs in the kitchen of a fine-dining restaurant, but he’s after something bigger. Pa’La is culinary populism at work, a declaration of war on the notion that premium ingredients and refined presentations should be reserved for the well-heeled. At Pa’La, a spartan counter-service joint in a blue-collar neighborhood, Urciuoli serves simple tapas composed of perfect ingredients. The Italian native pairs imported mozzarella and burrata with roasted vegetables. He bakes bread to order and fills it with roasted wood-grilled skate wing and sizzled Spanish sausage. And he tops his Ramon Navarro bowl — a blend of ancient grains, beans, nuts and seeds dressed with premium oils and vinegars — with whatever smoky, charred seafood strikes his fancy that day. Put these dishes on fine china instead of paper plates, add a ritzy room and service staff, and he could charge quadruple the price. But that would be missing the point, wouldn’t it?

Details: 2107 N. 24th St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-795-9500, palakitchen.com.

The Parlor

The Parlor is known for its pizza, and its pizza is great, but there’s a bigger picture here. Restaurateur Aric Mei — also involved in the forthcoming Los Olivos Farm project — has become something of an urban farming evangelist. So nearly a decade into its run, The Parlor has gone from neighborhood Italian restaurant to a working lab where Mei tries to practice what he preaches. On the surface, this is any old casual, contemporary Italian joint, slinging pizza, pasta and salads. But something as simple as lightly sweet caponata bruschetta sings, supported by excellent produce and careful balance. Salads based on mixed greens, usually a throwaway, are atypically bright and crisp. Pastas with substantial bite are generously dressed with rich ragus. And the pizzas, a light and chewy variety, are smartly dressed. Sausage is fine, but sausage with grilled radicchio and sage is compelling. A pizza puttanesca laden with tender, spicy seafood is a delight. And when summer rolls around, the sweet pop of roasted corn and chiles with a touch of spicy crema is impossible to resist.

Details: 1916 E. Camelback Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-248-2480, theparlor.us.

Pho Winglee

Every once in a while, a Vietnamese joint in the Valley pops its head up to stick out from the crowd. Husband-and-wife team Walleye Lai and Tina Truong started by selling exotic fruit from the back of a van before moving the operation to Winglee Market, a partnership with a California poultry farm that specializes in breeds of chickens popular with Asian chefs. These stellar birds make the Truongs’ lightly seasoned chicken pho some of the best in town. But there’s a lot more to Pho Winglee, the market’s next-door companion restaurant. Fried chicken wings are piping hot, paper-crisp and encased in a salty-sweet fish sauce lacquer. Grilled meats served with broken rice are tender and juicy. Rice vermicelli is topped with perfect spring rolls; shrimp paste wrapped in lacy crisp tofu skin and sweet, smoky slivers of pork. Pho Winglee isn’t substantially different from other Vietnamese spots that dot the landscape. But it’s fresher, crisper and more flavorful than the rest.

Details: 111 S. Dobson Road, Mesa. MAP IT! 480-668-1060, facebook.com/phowinglee.

Pizzeria Bianco

Everybody has an opinion about Pizzeria Bianco, and they mostly fall to the ends of the spectrum. It’s tempting to tell the whippersnappers to remember their history. Sure, it’s everywhere now, but this kind of pizza didn’t exist in this town before Bianco. I want to respect differences of opinion, while digging into one of Bianco’s pies, but I find it hard to accept that the anti-hype is anything but pure contrarianism. This is outstanding pizza with a depth of flavor built on heritage grains and a crisp and craggy character forged in the wood oven, simply topped with vibrant ingredients expressed at their peak. What’s more, at the Town & Country location, the pasta may be even better. Bianco is as much an ethos as a name, one that reveres local agriculture, seeks to extract the most from every ingredient and is constantly seeking honesty, both from the dishes themselves and the people who make them. It’s all right there on the plate.

Details: Heritage Square, 623 E. Adams St., Phoenix, 602-258-8300. MAP IT! Town & Country, 4743 N. 20th St., Phoenix. 602-368-3273, pizzeriabianco.com.

Pomo Pizzeria Napoletana

Pomo started as a laser-focused Neapolitan pizzeria desperately trying to convince skeptical diners of the soggy center’s charms. But it has evolved into something more — a local restaurant group that has harnessed popular Italian fare and elevated its integrity without sacrificing its broad appeal. Restaurateur Stefano Fabbri runs a boisterous, contemporary establishment. His collection of wood-fired pizzas and fresh pastas is a delectable, never-ending work in progress that pushes diners just a little bit further with each successive year. VPN-certified (that’s food geek speak for “hardcore traditional”) Neapolitan pizzas, such as the margherita and bufala verace, do a fine job of conveying the style’s chewy countenance, bubbling cornicone and straightforward adornment. But less conventional items like the charred, paper-thin, Rimini-style pizzas and the cheese-stuffed focaccia di Recco can steal the show from the main event, and Pomo slings a mean lasagna to boot. 

Details: 8977 N. Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale. MAP IT! 480-998-1366. Also 705 N. First St., Phoenix. 602-795-2555. pomopizzeria.com.

Quiessence

The beautiful contradiction inherent in Quiessence is how it feels so unlike the desert while being so fiercely of the desert. More to the point, Dustin Christofolo is helping purge the antiquated notions of desert cuisine from our systems, replacing them with something gorgeously delicate and refined, and grown — to a large extent — right on the property’s farm. The charming farmhouse and some of the most serene, romantic outdoor dining around would make this a popular destination even if the kitchen were in shambles. Thankfully, it’s quite the opposite. Christofolo shares creations that border on ethereal, such as uni removed from its usual umami bomb context and offset instead by light, pickled kohlrabi, grapefruit and meringue. His beef carpaccio, on crisp bread spoons with tempura-fried herbs and a light blue cheese aioli, borders on precious. Even a tangle of sausage-studded cappellacci is lightened with cauliflower, spigarello and a whiff of tarragon. The rest of the world may see the surrounding country as a harsh, if beautiful, wasteland. But here is food that gives a stage to the fruits of the desert more rarely seen and appreciated.

Details: The Farm at South Mountain, 6106 S. 32nd St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-276-0601, qatthefarm.com.

Rancho Pinot

Chrysa Robertson is a central figure in the Valley’s culinary history who has borne the standard of understated, soulful fare for decades while trends have come and gone around her. She opened this Scottsdale institution nearly 25 years ago, but unlike so many moldering relics of the era that now feel clumsy and dated, Rancho Pinot is as fresh and relevant as any newcomer to the scene. Filled with California- and Italian-influenced classics you can ease into like a worn leather chair, the menu’s focus on pure flavor, unfussy presentations and classic comforts is at once timeless and squarely on trend. A round of house-pulled burrata is a rich and creamy morsel, whether paired with a stone fruit relish or swimming in a roasted tomato broth. Grilled quail are succulent and sweet; and delicate gnocchi are nestled into a rich lamb ragu. But Nonni’s Sunday chicken, simply braised with mushrooms and white wine and paired with crisp polenta, exemplifies Rancho Pinot’s appeal. Restaurants new and old struggle to show this kind of grace and maturity in their food, but Robertson, as always, makes it look easy.

Details: 6208 N. Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale. MAP IT! 480-367-8030, ranchopinot.com.

Reathrey Sekong

Cambodian fare isn’t exactly plentiful in the Valley, by which I mean we have a Cambodian restaurant. Singular. Fortunately, it’s an enviable one. Reathrey Sekong is the kind of charming and tasty spot that food geeks dream of opening. Mother-and-son team Lakhana and Yuth In serve a list of Khmer specialties even more colorful and vibrant than the surroundings, which is saying something given the room’s neon paint job. Pleah, a Cambodian salad made here with marinated raw beef, is a light and pungent affair, cool and plied with fresh herbs. Soups are superb, in particular a lemongrass-scented number with coconut and a touch of tangy tamarind to lend a bracing sourness. The Phnom Penh noodle soup, fortified with pork liver and intestines, is offally good (sorry). For those less inclined toward organ eatery, the lok lak beef is tender stir-fried beef in a French-influenced sauce. But my favorite might be the humble cha kreung, simple chicken stir-fried with a seasoning paste pounded so fresh you can pick out the individual flavors of lemongrass, ginger, galangal, lime leaf, turmeric, shallot, garlic, chiles... every single component.

Details: 1312 E. Indian School Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 480-238-0238, facebook.com/Reathrey-Sekong-Cambodian-Cuisine.

Restaurant Huauchinangos

The state of Puebla, wrapped around the southeastern edge of Mexico City, is home to some of the nation’s most distinctive dishes. Alejandro Bonilla’s family is indigenous to the region, and he shares them from a modest, cozy storefront joint in west Mesa. Restaurant Huauchinangos slings some of the usual fare you’ll find at any local Mexican restaurant, but what makes Huauchinangos distinctive is dishes like the molotes, 3-inch masa torpedoes stuffed with potato and chorizo, fried to a golden crisp and drenched with tomatillo salsa. The quesadillas are folded over fillings like chicken tinga or mushrooms and cheese, then fried to a delicate crisp, tender to the touch and molten at their core. Bonilla’s “huauchitlacoyos” — a portmanteau of Huauchinango and tlacoyos — are piled with cactus and smoky salsa mora and excellent paired with salty, seared cesina. And chicken is usually a winner, whether it’s Bonilla’s family recipe for mole, a swirling mix of spices, chiles and nuts; or served con cacahuate — smothered with a sauce made of crispy chopped peanuts with the intense, fruity sting of dried chiltepin chiles.

Details: 1620 E. University Drive, Mesa. MAP IT! 480-835-2054. Search "Restaurant Huauchinangos Mexican Food" on Facebook.

Roka Akor

Steak is unavoidable in this town, even where upscale Japanese is concerned. Thankfully, at Roka Akor, that’s not a bad thing. This swanky joint with a Scottsdale nightlife vibe is in a part of town where it could have easily coasted on image alone. But there is compelling work being done here with ultra-superior ingredients, including some of the city’s best nigiri sushi, a compact list made with slabs of premium fish, delicate rice and real wasabi. Creative sashimi are also strong, like butterfish tataki wrapped around crisp white asparagus with a touch of herb and yuzu. The miso-marinated black cod is a refined take on the izakaya staple. And I’m more than a little enamored of their slabs of tender sweet potato with a hefty dose of binchotan-induced char and a ginger-laced glaze. But you most likely came for the steaks, and they’re excellent, whether a charred rib eye with a soy vinaigrette, juicy skirt steaks with an herbal shiso chimichurri or imported Japanese beef that inhabits “if you have to ask” territory. Heck, even the beef and kimchi gyoza are sharp, a compelling take on a dish that’s usually a throwaway, even when it isn’t frozen.

Details: 7299 N. Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale. MAP IT! 480-306-8800, rokaakor.com.

Roland's Cafe Market Bar - NOW CLO

Chris Bianco has long made his mark on the local food scene, and at Roland’s, he’s helping the next generation make their mark, too. In a charming, refurbished space built from the bones of a historic Chinese market, Bianco has teamed with Nadia Holguin and Armando Hernandez of Tacos Chiwas to open what could be best described as an Italian-influenced Chihuahuan diner. In practice, that means flaky cabeza empanadas with an earthy garbanzo bean dip; cheesy entomatadas bathed in the essence of summer tomatoes; chile colorado with the desert’s smoky, fiery sting; and “quesadillas” that look like pizzas, taste like Mexico and resemble precisely no other quesadilla you’ve ever tasted. Best part? Killer ingredients at Denny’s prices. Holguin is the backbone here, and with the sourcing and support provided by Bianco and Hernandez, this is the kind of simple, bold new Arizona cuisine that’s getting Mexican chefs out of the depths of the kitchen and into the spotlight, where they belong.

Details: 1505 E. Van Buren St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-441-4749, rolandsphx.com.

Sel

Café Monarch was wildly popular and well-tended under Branden Levine, but you wouldn’t describe the date-night destination’s fare as particularly edgy. Levine’s 2-year-old solo venture, however, is another story. Sel has the look of a slick Scottsdale lounge, an intimate room done in crystal and purple velour with a gently thumping soundtrack. The menu’s structure is four-course prix fixe that gets a top-to-bottom refresh almost monthly, a collection of refined dishes that change with the seasons and Levine’s whims. A bit of American brashness meets European sensibilities while drawing in flavors from around the world. Scallop ceviche enriched with uni panna cotta bathes in a smoky, dashi rich broth. A gorgeous grilled langoustine tops Thai-inspired sausage with the gentle sourness of fermented rice. Risotto prepared with phytoplankton is a deep-green chlorophyll bomb. For dessert, an ice cream sandwich is spruced up with spiced caramel and a foie gras gelato.

Details: 7044 E. Main St., Scottsdale. MAP IT! 480-949-6296, selrestaurant.com.

Shaanxi Garden

How cool is it to be ahead of the curve for once? While the rest of the U.S. is just discovering Shaanxi cuisine, local restaurateurs Changhai Huang and Noel Cheng are already deep into their sophomore effort, a continuation of the ethos they first established at the revamped House of Egg Roll. If Sichuan cuisine is poorly understood in the West, Shaanxi — from the northwestern Chinese province that’s home to the ancient capital of Xi’an — has only just started to establish a radar signature. And yet right here in Mesa, we’re spoiled with fragrant and complex silkie chicken soup; spiced lamb kebabs grilled to a juicy sizzle; cumin-scented chicken stewed with potatoes and chiles; and Four Bowls of Happiness, a big, warm hug of a dish that’s a sampler of Shaanxi comfort foods. Then, of course, there’s the biangbiangmian, Shaanxi’s belt-like noodles, long and wide with a resilient chew, dressed up in every manner you might want. It isn’t kind to play Nelson Muntz, pointing and laughing when we can boast something that so many lack. But maybe we can make an exception, just this once.

Details: 67 N. Dobson Road, Mesa. MAP IT! 480-733-8888, shaanxibiangbiang.com.

Sizzle

No, it isn’t all-you-can-eat. Yes, it’s in a white-bread mall. No, the non-barbecue items aren’t the strongest. Yes, they have the training wheels on and it’s a little on the pricey side. Don’t care five times over for one and one reason only. The meat is outstanding. Hyunwook Lee’s Korean barbecue joint, when it opened at Desert Ridge Marketplace, was proof positive that Korean cuisine has crossed over into the local mainstream. Two years later, if your primary concern is the best quality you can find, Sizzle is the place to be. Beautifully marbled prime beef joins premium pork in deeply flavorful marinades before they’re tossed on the grill and tended by the staff — a boon to the uninitiated. Galbi is juicy and sweet; beef belly chars to a sizzling crisp; Berkshire pork belly is thick-cut and decadent; and the spicy pork jowl is the next step for those tired of pork belly. In a topsy-turvy world where low-quality, all-you-can-eat has become the norm, who would have guessed that a snazzy midrange restaurant in a mainstream mega mall would carry the banner for the KBBQ counterculture?

Details: Desert Ridge Marketplace, 21001 N. Tatum Blvd., Phoenix. MAP IT! 480-265-9406, sizzlekoreanbbq.com.

Super Chunk Sweets / New Wave Market

Country and Sergio Velador had a pretty darn good sweet shop going. Then they had to go and improve it by adding coffee, breakfast, lunch and a market of all manner of delectables, local and otherwise. Now the colorful, quirky joint with a killer ‘80s soundtrack is as irresistible as it is adorable. Country, the longtime pastry chef at Cowboy Ciao, still slings signature sweets like the John & Yoko cake, honey-soaked and plied with tres leches; or the Cowpuncher, a crisp Mexican chocolate cookie dusted with cayenne and spiked with candied jalapeños. But now savories have joined the fray: A lacy ghee-fried egg graces her house-made bagels with a splash of lacto-fermented hot sauce; the chicken salad is thick with schmaltz and spiked with gribenes; and they’ve added a formidable Reuben to the list. The funky little sweet shop has transformed into a place you could hang out all day. And you’ll pretty much want to.

Details: 7120 E. Sixth Ave., Scottsdale. MAP IT! 602-736-2383, newwavemarket.com.

Sushi Nakano

Sushi Nakano is what every neighborhood sushi joint should be. Boozy, hipster hot spots thick with fake crab and sake bombs have their place, but what’s served at most sushi restaurants in the Valley — even the charming neighborhood ones — only hints at the form while barely executing it. Leo Nakano’s unassuming Ahwatukee sushi restaurant is a grand exception. He has parlayed a local pedigree (his father runs Hiro Sushi in Scottsdale) into one of the most quietly exciting sushi places to hit Phoenix in years. The fish sparkles, yes, but the rice is the difference maker — tender and cohesive, perfectly seasoned, with each grain maintaining its autonomy. Classic nigiri and rolls strike the perfect balance of quality and economy. And Nakano’s omakase breaks out a jaw-dropping assortment of contemporary sashimi and sushi dishes that are creative without distracting from the simple, pure flavors at their core. Add comforting classics like ripping hot nasu miso and a steaming bowl of Okinawa soba and you have a Japanese restaurant that should be the envy of every neighborhood.

Details: 4025 E. Chandler Blvd., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-603-2129, facebook.com/sushinakanoaz.

Tacos Chiwas

There are taco stands and there are Taco Stands. Usually, what separates them has less to do with quality than a nebulous confluence of non-culinary characteristics, inspiring a rush of bandwagoners and eventually leading to “approved” status. Then there are those that are actually different. Nadia Holguin and Armando Hernandez’s Chihuahuan taco stand doesn’t look any different than any other, but the care and quality packed into every item on the menu are exceptional. Steaming thick corn tortillas cradle slippery beef tongue, crisp tripas or citrusy carnitas that take a quick turn through the smoker left behind by the previous tenant, a barbecue restaurant. Burritos wrap flavorful, pliant, lightly charred flour tortillas around juicy carne asada or saucy, stewed beef. The killer app, however, is the rajas gordita. This creamy mess of roasted chiles and onions with a smear of beans and melted cheese is the apotheosis of northern Mexican comfort food. Romantic yet dubious notions of what constitutes an “authentic” taco stand have stood as an obstacle to better tacos for too long. The difference at Chiwas is palpable.

Details: 1923 E. McDowell Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-358-8830, tacoschiwas.com.

Talavera

Scottsdale suffers no shortage of blowout resort restaurants, but Talavera might be the crown jewel. The Four Seasons has cultivated a reputation for luxury balanced with restraint. That’s a theme carried straight through every aspect of the experience — from the refined room to the stunning desert views to the dishes that glide in and land on the table. Chef Samantha Sanz weaves the flavors of Spain and Mexico into a bold, sophisticated menu built on premium ingredients and as lush to behold as it is to taste. They range from the chaos of paella plied with sea critters of every stripe to the aching simplicity of pan con tomate. From the fragrant, garlicky sting of mammoth prawns splashed with mole verde to the rustic elegance of an unctuous cut of roasted Iberico de bellota pork. There’s a lyrical quality to Sanz’s work, lusty flavors tamed with careful technique to create something that feels almost seductive.

Details: Four Seasons Resort Scottsdale, 10600 E. Crescent Moon Drive. MAP IT! 480-513-5086, talaverarestaurant.com.

Tortas el Rey

Sometimes the difference between your favorite spot and all of the others is the tiniest thing — something intangible, a particular dish, a signature quirk or a friendly face behind the counter. Point being, in a town stacked to the rafters with torta shops, everybody has a favorite torta shop. Mine is Tortas El Rey. It looks like the rest, and I won’t claim it’s a magical experience unlike any other in town. But there’s something different about the way they assemble their sandwiches, a subtle syzygy that happens on the griddle, lending them a toasty character punctuated by an exclamation mark in 14-point font. The menu is massive, but the tortas are the thing, whether we’re talking a crisp and simple milanesa or a Hawayana piled with ham, pork sirloin and pineapple. Or the ranchera especial: carne asada laced with the sweet oils of griddled onions and peppers, fresh cheese, avocado and way too much creamy chipotle sauce, which is just the right amount.

Details: 1811 N. 24th St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-275-1605, tortaselreyphoenix.com.

Tratto

It took two tries, but Chris Bianco finally has his Arizona trattoria, and it’s as perfect as any I’ve ever had the pleasure of visiting. Tratto’s seamless blend of casual and elegant may feel effortless, but it takes a special kind of wisdom to create a dining experience that feels like it exists outside of time, connecting Old and New World. The kitchen, now under the auspices of chef Cassie Shortino, lends a peek into how Italian cuisine might have evolved if they’d had our ingredients to work with. Juicy Arizona melons get a dusting of fiery chiltepin and fragrant torn mint. The farinata — a crisp, lacy-edged pancake made with chickpea flour — is perked up with a few slivers of onion and the saline punch of brined olives. Perfect fresh pasta is sparingly dressed; and simple meats like the piccolo chicken swim lustily in their own juice. Bolstered by Blaise Faber’s sophisticated cocktails and now Olivia Girard’s desserts, Bianco’s goal of gently coaxing his guests to “submit to the meal” is a foregone conclusion. I yield. You’ve got me.

Details: Town & Country, 4743 N. 20th St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-296-7761, trattophx.com.

Virtù Honest Craft

Gio Osso made a massive splash in 2013, earning rave reviews and a spot on Esquire’s best new restaurants list for his charming Italian nook at the Bespoke Inn. But the ripples quickly died down. Much of Osso’s attention went to his casual Gilbert venture, Nico, and Virtù slipped to the edge of the spotlight. Those who forgot about Virtù need to come back for another look, and soon. Osso may be singlehandedly responsible for putting octopus on the menu of every restaurant in town. But despite what every article since the launch of Virtù has told you, that was never his best work to begin with, and his food has grown leaps and bounds in the several years since. What’s evolved is something leading-edge and lush, a tribute to his Italian roots with a hefty dose of American ingenuity. Pâté rich with liver and nocino — a green walnut liqueur — gets a punchy swab of salted pistachio crema. Perfect slices of smoked duck join an herbal green garbanzo hummus with a sweet lick of cherry agrodolce. And if you skip his beef ragu because it’s made with heart, that’s your mistake.

Details: Bespoke Inn, 3701 N. Marshall Way, Scottsdale. MAP IT! 480-946-3477, virtuscottsdale.com.

Vovomeena

Every time you blink, DJ Fernandes extricates himself just a little further from the restaurant business. Thankfully, he hasn’t yet severed ties completely, because his last remaining restaurant is one of the best A.M. spots in town. This is no-holds-barred breakfast, big plates and big flavors with a tendency toward beautiful excess, washed down with Japanese cold brewed coffee. The biscuits and gravy are more like biscuits and gravy and gravy and gravy, but that’s OK, because the white sausage gravy is stupid good. Pain perdu hewn from banana bread pudding with whiskey caramel would be abusively sweet if slabs of crisp, salty bacon didn’t swoop in to save the day. A tender tortilla Española is one of the more restrained offerings; and the blackstone scramble makes for a simple, garlicky fry of pork shoulder and eggs with plenty of vegetables. But the king of the hill has to be the B.M.O.C., a self-described “massive smoked pork chop” (no joke) over a waffle with eggs, a light Portuguese doughnut and a sweet apple and maple syrup glaze. It’s enough smoke, sugar, fat and complex carbs to last you all week, and it’s worth every bite.

Details: 1515 N. Seventh Ave., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-252-2541, vovomeena.com.

Weft & Warp Art Bar + Kitchen

Where so many resort restaurants strive for luxury and opulence, it’s nice to encounter one with a kind of confident, understated class. The Andaz Scottsdale Resort has a style inspired by the visual arts, painted from a palette of bold colors and minimal design. That style is carried through by the kitchen, now under the direction of chef Jason Thompson. This is creative fare in keeping with its artistic theme: vibrant, colorful and expressive. Tender braised lamb belly is contrasted by a light citrus and olive salad, dressed with an emulsion of simple lettuce and olive oil. Vibrant orange sweet potato gnocchi, with a playfully non-traditional chew, sit in a thick, almost sticky chicken reduction cut with just a touch of acid. A massive pork chop eschews fruity sweetness in favor of a spiced chorizo crust and the subtle pop of melted bell peppers. And the roasted baby yams are a delight, tossed with a smoky brown butter and ancho chile vinaigrette before being plied with the sweet sting of i’itoi onions.

Details: Andaz Scottsdale Resort and Spa, 6114 N. Scottsdale Road. MAP IT! 480-214-4622, scottsdale.andaz.hyatt.com.

Welcome Chicken & Donuts

The fried chicken at Welcome Diner was so good that Michael Babcock decided to spin it off into its own venture. And why not throw doughnuts into the mix? Truth is, Welcome Chicken + Donuts probably owes a little debt of gratitude to Philadelphia’s Federal Donuts, but this one is ours, combining Babcock’s chicken and doughnuts into a decadent team. The chicken is twice fried, craggy and crisp, served naked or with your choice of Asian-inspired sauce. (The Vietnamese sauce, an intensely sweet herbed fish sauce reduction, has my number.) Meanwhile, the raised and the glazed range from a killer classic cake with just a whiff of orange to wild creations, such as a tart and punchy grapefruit glazed; a sugared cake doughnut spiked with lemon and chipotle chiles; or the chocolate rose pistachio, topped with chunks of crispy rose meringue. Chicken is up at 10:30 a.m. If you want any wings, better get there early.

Details: 1535 E. Buckeye Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-258-1655, welcomechickenanddonuts.com.

Welcome Diner

There is something a little melancholic about watching Michael Babcock leave the vintage Valentine diner that Welcome Diner has called home for more than five years, only to move into a flashy new building just a couple of blocks away. On the other hand, the hipster vibe is still in full force, and the improved facilities have allowed Babcock to expand his Southern-flecked, comfort-fare menu to include some killer new dishes. To the juicy burgers, fried chicken biscuits and sauced-up sides, Welcome Diner now boasts dishes like a sweet/tart pickled shrimp toast, chorizo meatloaf with a slick chipotle cream and a damn fine shrimp etouffee. What’s more, the bakeshop has expanded and some serious pie is in the house. A flaky, buttermilk custard-stuffed number with jackfruit jam took me out at the knees. The history may not be quite the same, but the folks — staff and guests — who make Welcome Diner what it is are still there, and the food is as great as always. I expect we’ll adjust in no time flat.

Details: 929 E. Pierce St., Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-495-1111, welcomediner.net.

Yasu Sushi Bistro

Along with Nobuo Fukuda and Shinji Kurita, Yasu Hashino rounds out a triumvirate of chefs who have long defined creative Japanese fare in the Valley. And yet, Hashino has always seemed the least heralded of the three, quietly sending out dynamite dishes at his quirky neighborhood restaurant near Paradise Valley Mall. Let’s get this out of the way: His sushi is stellar, a mix of classic and contemporary items built on some of the best rice in town. But sticking to the sushi would be a mistake. Yellowtail tartare is dressed with ponzu, fried garlic chips and tart miniature tomatoes, while a slab of cool uni arrives atop a tempura-fried nori chip with a swipe of toro spread. Smoky classics such as saikyo black cod and slivers of lemon-laced beef tongue emerge from the grill. And succulent, rich dishes like braised black pork belly and eggplant stuffed with foie gras wander out of the kitchen and practically melt on the table. Perhaps it’s the less formal environs that throws diners off the scent, but Hashino is every bit his peers’ equal, and Yasu Sushi Bistro remains an underappreciated gem.

Details: 4316 E. Cactus Road, Phoenix. MAP IT! 602-376-9823. Search "Yasu Sushi Bistro" on Facebook.