Off the Map: We've Come to a Spoon in the Road

Toffee Banofi Sundae -- Sweet Republic Artisan Ice Cream, Scottsdale, AZ
Sweet Republic

Apparently, this is the beginning of the end.  Vodka and Ginger no longer have comparable tastebuds.  And it took a trip to Scottsdale, Arizona to reveal the breakdown in our rating system.

This Is What Happens When We Leave New York

In the past, we have almost always been on the same page about our star ratings.  If there were disagreements about how many stars a certain Best Thing I Ever Ate dish should receive, the one who felt less strongly would almost always relent.

In Phoenix, we are at a standstill.

And Not Just Over Our Ice Cream Flavors

Perhaps it is the ghosts of the western cowboys influencing our rating duel, but we have each turned stubborn and steadfast in our opinions.  First, there was the fried chicken at Mrs. White's (Ginger wanted more stars), then the waffle dogs at Over Easy (Vodka wanted more stars), then the French onion soup at Zinc Bistro (Vodka wanted more stars).

But it is at Sweet Republic, home of Alton Brown's favorite ICE CREAMY dish, the toffee banofi sundae, that our divergent opinions come to a head.

The Impetus Behind the First Blog Rating Smackdown

For an ice cream store in a nondescript strip mall in the middle of a mild Arizona day, Sweet Republic Artisan Ice Cream is fairly packed when we enter its premises on a Saturday afternoon.

And Clearly Quite Proud of Their Food Network Heritage

When we reach the front of the line, we order one toffee banofi sundae and one cookie mintifesto sundae, both in waffle bowls, to split between us.  Securing our own table, we fetch plastic spoons and cups of free water (apparently a requirement in Arizona due to the heat index) and dig in.

One Would Never Know This Is Our Eighteenth "Snack" of the Day

"Mmmmmmm," Ginger hops up and down, licking her lips and murmuring like a certifiable crazy person.

"What?" Vodka asks, gingerly tasting the first spoonful of toffee banofi.

"That's how good I think it is," Ginger explains.

Ginger Using the "Auditory Sounds Automatically Translate to High Ratings" Manipulation Technique

Now, Sweet Republic's sundaes are complex, hearty, and slightly unusual.  The toffee banofi features vanilla ice cream, banana, toffee buttercrunch, salted butter caramel sauce, and whipped cream (plus, of course, the waffle bowl).  The part Vodka likes about it is that it is salty.  The part that Ginger likes about it is everything.

Although Based on This Shot, the Bananas Would Say Otherwise

In both Ginger's and the sundae's defense, all of the components are great on their own -- an ideal first step.  The whipped cream is fluffy, the toffee sticky and sweet, and the waffle bowl close to perfect.  And together, they are good -- definitely good.

But Vodka is hellbent on the fact that they are not, despite Ginger's oohing and ahing, good enough to be 5 stars.

And so, we have come to a spoon in the road.

Two Spoons Diverged in the Desert

The cookie mintifesto produces a similar argument -- the mint chocolate chip ice cream, chocolate chip cookie chunks, hot fudge, and whipped cream combination is good.  But it is still just a sundae, and Vodka is not convinced that she could not procure one just as satisfying at an ice cream chain store -- Baskin Robbins, or Cold Stone, or preferably, for Vodka's custard-loving ways, Rita's.

While Ginger is Adamant That Vodka Has Lost Her Mind

We become convinced that it is our Arizona resident friend who is causing the breakdown in our rating system -- she is always on the side of "more stars" (in this case, Ginger) and provides added ammunition for that person's case.  "If we were here by ourselves, maybe we'd think everything was terrible," Ginger surmises.

And We'd Probably Be Mocking Sweet Republic's Board Game Selections

But as it stands, we've come to the compromise of giving Sweet Republic's sundae 4 stars.  And that, folks, is just the way the ice cream melted.

Sweet Republic Artisan Ice Cream's Toffee Banofi Sundae: 4 stars

Off the Map: I'm Gonna Hook You Up, Jersey-Style

French Onion Soup -- Zinc Bistro, Scottsdale, AZ
Zinc Bistro

Like moths to a flame, New Jersey natives always seem to find each other, even in the most non-Garden State of locations.  This magnetic attraction is how Vodka ends up being BFFs with our Zinc Bistro waiter.

When in Arizona, Do as New Jersey Would

"Ooh, it smells like a bar in here," Ginger notes as we enter our Scottsdale lunchtime location.  Looking remarkably similar to a combination of Balthazar, Pastis, and Parc, Zinc Bistro is clearly going for French ambiance, evidenced by the Eiffel Tower sculpture and the proliferation of alcohol.

Parlez-Vous "Cocktail?"

Before we can so much as glance at the menu (read: cocktail list), our waiter, who practically breathes "originally from New Jersey," whips our white napkins off of our table and replaces them with black ones.  We look at each other quizzically and then consult our friend as to the meaning of this obviously Phoenix-specific behavior.

"They give you dark napkins when you're wearing dark pants," she explains without affect.

"WHO does?!"

"Nice restaurants," she answers.

"No, never, uh uh," we protest.  "That has never happened to us before."  Instead of being impressed by this color spectrum service, we are so confused that it has manifested as outrage.

NapkinGate 2012

Again, before we can continue our debate over whether or not such napkin-to-pants matching is normal practice, our waiter is back in a flash to card us, even before our drink orders have been placed.  And this is when our waiter figures out that he has found some East Coast compatriots.

The Best Geographic Bonding Happens Over Liquor

We order a La Fleur and a Parisian Mule, while our Southwest colleagues stick with a teetotaling Arnold Palmer and French Press coffee (this is the price one pays for being our chauffeur).

This Is Also Why We Don't Drive

It soon becomes apparent that we each have our own variety of "drinking beverages" issue: Ginger is insistent that she receive a straw for her water, because she doesn't "like when the ice touches my face," and Vodka is sipping her cocktail at her typical snail's pace because she's a "slow drinker, or else I feel like I'm drowning."

Our waiter seems to share such neuroses (maybe it's an East Coast thing), as not only does he provide a straw for Ginger's water, but a full bushel of straws for every beverage on the table.

A Hootenanny of Straws

When Jersey (as the waiter will from now on be called) returns yet again, we order the Best Thing I Ever Ate French onion soup (or, in pretentious menu terms, "onion soup gratinee"), as recommended by Beau MacMillan on the CHEESY episode.

You Say 'Gratinee,' We Say 'Give Us Cheese'

We also choose to split a Zinc house salad, while our friends order the mussels.

"Get the French fries, too," Jersey insists.  "They're amazing."

"No!" Ginger, who seems to be into putting her foot down quite a bit today, answers him.  "We're gonna be too full.  We have a lot of eating to get to."  But when Vodka and friends, once again, perform a majority vote towards getting the French fries, Jersey sticks his tongue out at Ginger in a show of one-upmanship.

Jersey Has Won the Battle, But Not Yet the War

Perhaps as a peace offering, Jersey comes back immediately with a bread basket and whispers in Ginger's ear, "I hooked you up, Jersey-style.  Everyone else has to ask for bread.  You guys just get it."

Please take note of this bread service, bartender at Pizzeria Bianco.

A Slightly Dull Bread Basket is Better Than No Bread Basket At All

Ginger finds a heart-shaped slice and begins carb-loading, while Vodka is overcome by the BLT Steak-like provided salt shaker.

The Key to Vodka's Heart Is...

...Salt, Jersey-Style

Before we can consume enough yeast for our liking, our boiling hot bowls of French onion soup arrive, and Vodka, seemingly not afraid of drowning via soup consumption, dives in.

And she nearly burns her face off.

Note: Soup Served in a Witch's Caldron Is Indeed Hot

It is, therefore, especially telling as to the tastiness of the soup that Vodka still finds the first spoonful, and every subsequent one, delightful.  Supremely salty broth, bite-sized onions, and oodles of gruyere cheese combine to form some of the best onion soup we've ever tasted.

Non-Minced Onions For the Win

Unlike many lower-scale versions where the cheese performs full lift-off upon the first spoonful, this cheese lasts through each and every bite of the soup.

The Cheese of Our Lives

Vodka manages to splatter half of our order across the paper table cloth (thank goodness for her black napkin), which Jersey makes a big show of mopping up for her.

What Would We Have Ever Done Had Our Napkins Been White?!

Yet despite all of these obstacles, Vodka believes this soup, like the waffle dogs, is 5 stars.

Ginger thinks it is not.

Never before in the history of this tour have we shared less compatible opinions.

Is This Not Evidence of a 5 Star Dish?!

Putting the empty soup caldrons aside, we move on to our salad (which Zinc Bistro has been kind enough to divide onto separate plates for us).  The greens themselves are heavily dressed - nearly soaked.  And while the taste of the dressing is pleasing enough, we'd prefer a bit more crispness.

Lay Low on the Dressing Next Time, Jersey

The accompanying crostinis are smothered heavily in soft goat cheese and chives, which is strong in flavor if a bit overbearing.

This Meal Is Becoming a Bit Over-Cheesed, Even By Our Standards

Our friends' mussels are some of the largest we have ever seen and are accompanied by a dose of "string things" (the highfalutin culinary term for "fried potato strings"), all of which is quite lovely.

In Arizona, Mussels Come Supersized

Our Aptly-Named "String Things"

And the much fought-over French fries prove to be the perfect dish to round out or Paris-by-way-of-Phoenix experience.

Oui Oui, Jersey

Jersey comes bounding over to our table with dessert menus in hand.  "Can I interest you in some -- "

"Just the check," Ginger interrupts him.  And for just an instant, one could almost assume that she, and not Vodka, is the one at this table with no-nonsense New Jersey blood running through her.

Zinc Bistro's French Onion Soup: 4 stars

Off the Map: Corn Dogs Would Be Better in a Waffle

Waffle Dogs -- Over Easy, Scottsdale, AZ
Over Easy

Arizona might be good at many things: cacti, sand, mountains, dry heat.

Wait times at restaurants are not one of the areas in which Arizona excels.

So Many Bread Clocks, So Little Telling of Time

We arrive at a bustling Over Easy in Scottsdale the next morning and are told by the hostess that the wait will be thirty to forty minutes, unless we want to eat outside, where the wait might be slightly less.

The Early Bird Catches the Patio

"No!" a shivering Ginger demands.  "Inside!"

Trying to Persuade Ginger That This is the Sun

Eventually, after much persuasion, Vodka and friends manage to convince Ginger that she is going to spend much more time standing outside waiting for a table than she would if she just allowed us to sit at one in the sunshine.  Ginger relents, and we tell the hostess that we will take a seat on the practically-empty patio.

Arizona's Idea of "Bustling"

"Okay, it will still be a bit of a wait," the hostess tells us for no explicable reason.  The patio is stuffed with at least twenty tables, two of which are currently occupied.  Plus, there is barely a crowd still waiting for a table -- surely not enough to fill all eighteen of the remaining patio offerings.

Listen Over Easy - Not Sure You Know Who You're Dealing With Here: We're Food Network Groupies

So why have we been left to stand aimlessly near the hostess stand for a solid twenty minutes before we are granted a table?  The explanation never comes.

As Her Next Trick, Ginger Will Reward This Feat of Service with Her Stapled Dollar

While we are left to languish in the front vestibule of Over Easy, we notice a sign announcing that their so-called "Happy Hour" seems to last most of the day.  "That's not happy hour, that's just life," Ginger remarks, and when we are finally seated, the first thing we do is order ourselves some $5 mimosas.

It's Not Even Noon in New York, Let Alone in Scottsdale

As Ginger drags her chair closer to the sun's rays and Vodka tries to hide in the shadows under the table, we decide that along with Beau MacMillan's Best Thing I Ever Ate FOR BRUNCH dish, the waffle dogs, we will also order the toasted brioche with sauteed spinach, egg, bacon, and scallions, along with both regular and sweet potato tater tots.

So We Pretty Much Don't Care That We Have a Full Day of Eating Ahead of Us

As we sip our mimosas, we notice that Over Easy is directly next to a gym -- motivation for a work-out if we ever had such motivation, which we never do.  Instead, we are much more concerned with shoving our waffle dogs into our mouths as quickly as possible.

Why Work Out Your Body When You Can Work Out Your Teeth?

When they arrive, we find three corn dog-like sticks of dough sprinkled with powdered sugar on each plate.

You're Once, Twice, Three Times a Waffle Dog

Recalling our complete ambivalence towards Shake Shack's thrice-annual corn dogs, we are somewhat skeptical as we prepare our dipping condiments of maple syrup and Cholula hot sauce (at the congenial waiter's suggestion).

And then, we bite into the dog.

Waffle Dog Cyclops

Inside, we find a tender sausage cemented by a layer of sweet waffle batter, the whole thing fried to a soft, doughtnuty texture.  While none of the components would be particularly memorable on their own, together, they are a revelation, especially with the addition of the maple syrup/hot sauce combo.

How We Like to Live Life: With a Proliferation of Condiments

Vodka feels that the waffle dogs rival the breakfast choices at Matt's Big Breakfast, but Ginger maintains that she could never finish all three of them on her own, so she is holding off on a 5-star reward.

It Seems Ginger Suddenly Thinks She Has Relinquished Her Membership to the Clean Plate Club

Our other menu choices do not begin to compare to the scrumptiousness of the waffle dogs -- the brioche is pretty but dry and unimpressive, the brunch equivalent of a Lady M Confections cake.

Pretty Colors Do Not Equal Pretty Flavor

And while the regular tater tots are as crunchy and salty as the best of what we remember from our high school cafeterias, the sweet potato (a food that Vodka hates -- HATES -- anyway) variety is slightly squishy and requires its own dipping sauce, because ketchup, hot sauce, nor maple syrup is doing the trick.

Gotta Get the Tots

If we ever find ourselves a) in Phoenix, and b) at Over Easy again, we would make it a point to order the waffle dogs as an appetizer to split amongst the table.

And/or with which to taunt the svelte gym-goers next door.

Over Easy's Waffle Dogs: 4 stars

Off the Map: Greasy, But Not in a Derogatory Way

Golden Brown Southern Fried Chicken -- Mrs. White's Golden Rule Cafe, Phoenix, AZ
Mrs. White's Golden Rule Cafe

If we're being honest, if Beau MacMillan had not instructed us to go to Mrs. White's Golden Rule Cafe in Phoenix for the fried chicken, we most likely would not have set foot in the place.

Well, Doesn't This Look Inviting?

It's not that we are put off by bars on the windows (oh, who are we kidding?  We are), but more that we were forced to pass through a Nascar exhibition tour on our way to the place.  Let's be clear: we hate Nascar.

Way to Class Things Up, Phoenix

However, if this restaurant is the home of Beau MacMillan's Best Thing I Ever Ate FRIED CHICKEN dish, then we will not let slightly-shady ambiance nor men sporting hideous race car jackets dissuade us from our mission.

There's Also the Whole Business of the - Literal -  "Writing on the Walls"

We enter Mrs. White's Golden Rule Cafe after the lunch rush has ended, which seems to be code for "after they have run out of all the good side dishes."

Here's a Hint: This Isn't One of the "Good" Ones

The very pleasant waitress comes over to take our order for one sweet tea (for Ginger), along with three pieces of fried chicken, mac and cheese, and sweet potatoes.  No problem.

Except they're out of mac and cheese.

And sweet potatoes.

And "green beans and cabbage" just doesn't have the same ring to it.

Where Are Our Carbs?!

Ginger, claiming "dry heat exhaustion," starts gulping down her 32-ounce sweet tea, pausing midway through to inform us, "Also, I'm going into a diabetic coma."

Sweet Tea, Prison-Style

Luckily, she does not have to wait long for a tray of food to arrive in order to soak up her sugary stomach contents.  While meanwhile:

"This Is For You," Ginger Says to Vodka

Along with out two chosen ("chosen" is a relative term) sides, we have received a slice of intensely-yellow cornbread.

You Are My Sunshine

The corn bread is rich and sweet and has difficulty removing itself from the roofs of our mouths.  But it is not the reason we are here.  That distinction belongs to the golden brown Southern fried chicken, and it is just about everything that Beau MacMillan had promised.

Here, Chicky, Chicky, Chicky

The breading and skin is crispy and salty, and the meat itself unbelievably moist.  It causes us to lick our fingers after each bite, appropriately greasy in the best possible way.

The chicken is pretty near perfect.

A Chicken Wing Being Slowly Massacred

Now, while we agree that the chicken is excellent, we come to a standstill over its comparison to Hill Country's version; Ginger much prefers Mrs. White's more traditional variety, while Vodka is adamant that Hill Country's is ten times superior (and not just because Hill Country's side dishes could kick Mrs. White's over the Mason Dixon line).

Those Beans Are No Pimento Mac and Cheese, Is All We're Saying....

Vodka relents on the 5 star rating because Ginger is so convinced of Mrs. White's gold medal status, yet she remains happy with the fact that Hill Country is the fried chicken establishment located in our actual city of residence.

This Chicken Is Just Not Worth a Blog Civil War

Indeed, it is probably best that we not discuss the green beans or cabbage (both a deadly combination of "mushy" and "bland," or as Ginger insists on calling them, "authentic") so as to not detract from the truly wonderful fried chicken.  Mrs. White's Golden Rule Cafe seems to prove that you do not have to go to the South, or even to New York City, to procure truly great fried chicken.

You just have to go to a would-be jailhouse in the middle of the Arizona desert.

Amen, Mrs. White, Amen

Mrs. White's Golden Rule Cafe's Golden Brown Southern Fried Chicken: 5 stars*

*Certifiable Best Thing We Ever Ate