eric EATS OUT

It’s hard for me to look at a restaurant and evaluate it purely based on the food.  So many variables factor into the equation: service, value, atmosphere, and location.  It’s easy to forget that, at the end of the day, a restaurant is a business that is designed to make money, although smuggling drugs across the border might be a less risky way to do so.  These days, wouldn’t it make sense for a new restaurant to keep its overhead as low as possible in the interest of trying to squeak out a profit? 

It is with that question in mind that I approached Athena Greek Cuisine, located near Scottsdale Road and the Loop 101.  You might as well forget that you’re in a restaurant, because the place looks like the Greek section of “It’s a Small World” at Disneyland.  Every stereotypical Grecian styling cue is present: ornate columns framing a centrally located bar, Zeus-inspired lions at the entrance, statues, etched glass.  It’s not my taste, per se, and it feels much more “corporate ethnic” than “authentically ethnic.”  Athena Greek Cuisine is something of an anachronism; isn’t this how restaurants used to look, before the market tanked? 

Décor aside, I give the owners credit for having the balls to launch such a capital intensive beast.  With the exception of gyros or the dolmas at Trader Joe’s, Greek restaurants haven’t permeated the mainstream American dining scene.  How many times have you said to yourself, “I’m really craving Greek food tonight?”  And that’s really a shame, because Greek food prepared well is worth exploring.  Based on my initial visit, Athena gets it mostly right, with some caveats. 

Only a week into its existence, Athena was fairly empty when I visited for a weekday lunch but the place is so cavernous that there could be 100 people inside and it would still feel empty.  Add the expansive patio, replete with flat screen televisions, and the place is certifiably gigantic.  I found it odd that there are very few two-top tables; in fact, the hostess try to seat my party of two at a round table set for five, which would have been quite odd.  She gladly moved us to a booth when we asked, but they’ll need to add some tables for two if they want to serve the local business lunch crowd. 

Service was efficient, without feeling rushed.  The servers have clearly been well trained but I noticed, after we had already ordered, that the table behind us was read a lengthy list of specials that we never heard about.  Oh well, too late.  The menu is varied, with nearly 30 different hot and cold appetizers.  The staff is clearly pushing the Saganaki, a piece of Kefalograviera cheese doused with brandy that is then lit on fire, tableside, complete with a tacky “Opa!” yelled by the server.  I’m more intrigued by the Greek Sausage, Marinated Octopus, and Fried Smelts.  It’s hard to evaluate the authenticity of the menu, as so many of the appetizers are designed to appeal to the masses, but some are more unique.  Still, there is something for everyone and the restaurant was only one week old, so there is still plenty of time for refinement of the menu. 

In the interest of tasting as much as possible in one sitting, I went with the Athena Combination Plate, consisting of Pastitsio, Moussaka, Roasted Leg of Lamb, Dolmadas and vegetables.  The first thing I noticed is that the food was barely room temperature.  Many of these items are clearly pre-prepared in large portions, which is fine, but they should still be served steaming hot.  When I got beyond the temperature, the flavors were actually quite good.  The Pastitsio is very hearty dish, and the nutmeg in the béchamel sauce added a nice dimension.  The Moussaka (“Greek Lasagna” in my vernacular) was also solid, if not a tad greasy.  Dolmadas were notably more sophisticated in flavor than the simple rice-filled grape leaves you’ll find at Trader Joe’s.  These would make a great appetizer.  

Lamb is synonymous with Greek food, and the Roast Leg of Lamb was full of flavor but terribly overcooked.  I know it’s a matter of personal preference, but shouldn’t they have asked how I like it cooked instead of assuming that well-done would suffice?  Given that every one of the daily specials includes lamb, the kitchen should be nailing this one. 

Though I did not try it, I am intrigued by the Whole Fish of the Day.  Also, I noticed several orders of Beef Souvlaki being brought out, and it looked like a great lunch choice priced at just eight dollars including salad or fries.  Continuing on the “something for everyone” theme, there is an extensive selection of chicken, steaks, chops, and seafood entrée selections. 

It’s hard to make a judgment call on Athena.  The food has potential, but it’s hard to ignore the fact that the menu is dumbed-down for mainstream palates as it needs to be, because the small percentage of diners that appreciate authenticity isn’t enough to fill the restaurant.  At the same time, Athena is an example of a locally-owned restaurant that feels distinctly like a chain.  I’m not opposed to chains, as so many others are, but in general the chains that I like (such as Houston’s) don’t really feel like chains.  Despite the lavish décor, Athena felt cold, almost clinical.  I felt like I was in a Hollywood façade, not a local restaurant.  It will be interesting to see if the vibe changes on a Saturday night, when the restaurant and bar are bustling. I liked the fact that the the owner was in the dining room, talking to customers and taking a hands-on approach.  That's a very good sign.

In Greek mythology, Scylla and Charybdis were two sea monsters that made it impossible for sailors to escape their grasp alive.  Only time will tell if the staggering overhead of Athena Greek Cuisine will seal its fate. 

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Athena Greek Cuisine

7000 East Mayo Blvd

Phoenix, AZ 85054

480-502-4466

www.athenagreekcuisine.com

One hundred dollars doesn’t buy very much these days; bad seats and some snacks at an NBA game, a one-way fare to Barstow, or maybe a tank of gas for my behemoth SUV.  At Guy Savoy, in Las Vegas, one hundred dollars might buy you an appetizer and an entrée, if you err on the cheap side and go easy on the truffles.  When you think of “omakase,” the Japanese concept of entrusting your menu to the Chef, you’re usually signing-up for a lot more than one hundred dollars.  Masa, Megu, Yamashiro….enough said.  Bring your Amex Centurion card, get a letter of credit from your bank, or go elsewhere. 

Which brings me to Scottsdale’s Roka Akor, an audacious restaurant loosely linked to Roka, its London-based namesake.  (Allegedly, the “Akor” was added to avoid confusion with Sushi Roku, which opened around the same time.)  In many ways, Roka Akor is the perfect punch-line to every joke made about Scottsdale.  Valet parking full of expensive cars, an emphasis on aesthetics, stylized food, and a bar that carves the ice by hand.  The patrons seem fit, sparkly and, often, generously enhanced.  If you’re predisposed to despise Scottsdale, Roka Akor is your rallying cry.  Sadly, if the same meal had been served at the same price in a gritty warehouse district, the hipsters would be selling their skinny jeans to get a table.  

And that’s really a shame because, regardless of locale, Roka Akor’s omakase menu (priced at $95 per person) is an amazing bargain that will dazzle you with variety, quality ingredients, skillful preparations and a high level of engagement with the kitchen and serving team.  Moments after ordering the Chef came to our table to inquire about likes, dislikes, and food allergies.  With only a few restrictions from our table, he returned to the kitchen to get started.  The sheer volume of food – combined with the quality of what was served – makes the price of entry a relative bargain.  Masa it is not, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t worthwhile. 

Consider the Butterfish Tataki with White Asparagus; subtly flavored and sublimely tender.  Or, a bountiful serving of Toro, fatty like foie gras from the sea.  Bring on the Robata Grilled Black Cod with Yuzu and Pickled Onions.  And these dishes didn’t even make a dent in the 13 courses that we were served. 

Lamb chops, a favorite dish of mine but one that is often gristly and poorly prepared, were juicy, tender and bursting with smoky flavor from the grill.  Shishito peppers (which were unknown two years ago but now seem to be just about everywhere) were served en-masse with blistered skin, like miniature hatch chiles. Bonito flakes, delicately sprinkled on top, added a perfect saltiness.  An interesting inclusion was Robata Sweet Corn and Broccolini; non-traditional yet perfectly executed.  I love when a restaurant can get me to enjoy the vegetables as much as the protein. 

Prime Beef with Truffled Rice and Four Mushrooms was a decadent end to the meal.  Despite the kitchen’s assault on our stomachs, I never felt over-stuffed and I sank into my chair as the richness of this dish dealt a final blow to my appetite…in the best possible way.

I would be remiss if I failed to comment about the drink selections, which are extensive and varied.  There are no fewer than 13 different Shochu Infusions and cocktails.  If you have never tried it, the Shochu Sampler is a good selection to explore this distilled beverage, whose flavor can be similar to vodka, gin or whiskey depending on the ingredients that are distilled.  Mock it as you may, but the crystal clear ice, chipped by hand at the bar from a giant block, is a nice touch and it just feels good clinking in your glass.  There are also 11 different sake and wine flights.  And dessert?  I'm not much of a dessert guy, but I'll let the photo speak for itself.

I understand that these are lean times; every dollar counts.  Value is in, decadence is out.  But if one hundred dollars for a 13 course omakase experience is wrong, then I don’t want to be right. 

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Roka Akor

7299 North Scottsdale Road

Scottsdale, AZ 85253

480-306-8800

www.rokaakor.com

Twitter: rokaakor

There are only a handful of things in this world that I believe with absolute certainty.  Treat people the same way you wish to be treated.  Do what you say you’re going to do.  What goes around comes around.  O.J. was guilty. Hard work and good character should be rewarded.  Root for the good guys. 

Robert McGrath is one of the good guys in the restaurants business.  He has been the recipient of nearly every prestigious accolade - including a James Beard award - yet maintains a down-home sensibility that is evident in his food and his demeanor.  I distinctly remember an incredible meal that I had at The Roaring Fork in the late 90’s (before he sold his interest); unlike everything else that was Southwestern, Asian, or French, McGrath’s food was hard to classify.  His menu conveyed the ruggedness of the American West with seasonal ingredients, long before the term “seasonal” became mandatory for any new restaurant.  In the back of my mind, I always thought that McGrath was the kind of guy that I’d like to be if I was in the restaurant business.  The Roaring Fork declined once Robert left, and his brief stint as the owner of Pischke’s was a flop.  I think he even consulted on the menu at Christie’s Cabaret. 

And then the shit really hit the fan. 

McGrath sought to renovate the building that housed The Other Place and turn it into “REM,” a lofty concept of traditional continental cuisine with several distinct dining areas, each with a different emphasis.  After sinking huge amounts of his savings into the venture, the economy tanked, investors got nervous and the project was shuttered.  Just when it looked like things couldn’t get any worse, his daughter was involved in a terrible car accident.  Had McGrath chosen to check-out, I would have understood.  Why was the good guy, who had worked so hard, being dealt such a bad hand?  It didn’t seem fair to me. 

But adversity often brings out the best in people, and Robert McGrath has re-emerged as the chef – not owner – of the recently opened Renegade Canteen.  Ironically, Renegade Canteen occupies the space that previously housed South Beach, an awful homage to everything that’s wrong about Scottsdale.  (It was the subject of the first “review” I ever wrote on Chowhound.)  I was more than just a little bit excited to see what had been done with the space, which is now rich, warm, open, and comfortable.  

It is also staffed with a surprisingly adept cast of characters.  The young hostesses had unexpected level of professionalism; they quickly brought me a glass of water while I waited for my guest in the reception area, and deftly handled several walk-ins when tables weren’t going to be available for a few hours.  The bar is run by an industry veteran, and the management and servers seemed thrilled to be there. All the right pieces are in place. 

And the food rocks.  In fact, McGrath may very well be back and better than ever. 

It’s a huge menu, and I had a hard time choosing what to order because so many things sounded good to me and, let’s face it, I don’t have Adam Richman’s stomach capacity.  We settled on Rock Lobster Grits with Broccoli Rabe and a Quail Egg on top, along with the Cocktail of Smoked Shrimp and Chilled Crabmeat & Cabbage Enchiladas, the last of which was highly recommended by both the manager and our server.  Ironically, it was the least favorite of the trio that we ordered, although it still had a fresh taste and nice mix of textures resulting from the crisp cabbage “tortilla.”  It was too cold, and simply failed to excite. 

The Rock Lobster Grits was the real star.  Served in a mini cast iron vessel, perfectly cooked chunks of sweet rock lobster melded with the quail egg yolk.  My only suggestion would be that the presentation could be enhanced by the server breaking the yolk tableside.  The Smoked Shrimp were equally delicious; we were told that they were cooked purely by smoke and they had a strong, but not overwhelming, “shrimpy” flavor.  It is worth noting that some of the highlights of this “western” menu were seafood dishes, the likes of which probably aren’t found out on the range. 

Although several corn-fed steaks are found on the menu (at reasonable prices, especially since they included two sides), we elected to go with Blackened Catfish with Blue Crabmeat and Shrimp “Fondeaux” and the Brick Roasted Little Chicken with Desert Sage Pesto and Cheese Grits.  I believe that the sign of a good cook is his/her ability to take something simple, like roast chicken, and prepare it well.  I’ve never understood why so many restaurants manage to screw-up something as simple as roasted chicken but, time and time again, they do.  Not McGrath.  The smell of desert sage perfumed the air as the chicken arrived, with crispy skin and juicy meat.  Even the white meat was moist, although I’m still working on engineering a dark-meat-only breed of chicken.  

I’m not usually a catfish guy, but the southern-inspired preparation sounded appealing to me and did not disappoint.  Again, the shrimp on top was perfectly cooked and the flavor of the fish worked well in conjunction with the blackened seasoning.  Does anyone remember a restaurant called The American Grill, which occupied the space presently used by Houston’s on Scottsdale Road? They turned me on to blackened fish but, decades later, Renegade Canteen does a good job of bringing this dish back to the market. 

The staff made a big deal out of their “Oregon trained pastry chef with dreadlocks down to his waist” so I felt compelled to give dessert a try, although I stayed away from some of the more interesting offerings like Candy Cap Mushroom Bread Pudding and Red Beet Root Cake.  Instead, I went for the Chocolate Toffee Pecan Pie with house-made Bourbon Spiked Ice Cream.  Unlike most pecan pies, this one wasn’t cloyingly sweet and was the perfect way to end what amounted to be an outrageously good meal. 

If you think that I must be on Renegade Canteen’s payroll to rave so thoroughly, you’re wrong.  It’s just that they got so many things right and have done so very early on.  Things can only get better.  There is even a Little Renegades menu, which is a very nice welcome touch to parents like me, and I noticed a number of families with young kids in the dining room.  Each night there is a different “Weekly Classic” including choices such as Pork Osso Bucco, Roast Rack of Lamb (which looked fantastic), and “Smelly Old Fish from Last Week.”  There is even a Whole Fried Chicken for $20 (including sides), which is enough to serve a small family.  That should appease even the most value-conscious diners.  (As well as a certain not-worth-mentioning, self-proclaimed, food “man-about-town.”)  

The second coming of Robert McGrath has been worth the wait.  Renegade Canteen strikes just the right balance between sophistication and value, creativity and approachability, and the cuisine is crafted in a way that lets McGrath’s culinary talents shine.  Although he doesn’t know it, I’ve met McGrath several times and I’ve truly missed him while he has been away.  It is nice to see hard work and good character rewarded, for a change. 

This time, it looks like the good guy is going to win. 

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Renegade Canteen

9343 East Shea Blvd.

Scottsdale, AZ

480-614-9400

www.renegadecanteen.com

At what point in time does the chef become synonymous with the restaurant?  In The Reach of a Chef, author Michael Ruhlman explores the phenomenon of “celebrity chefs” and focuses on two chefs renowned for their excellence: Thomas Keller and Grant Achatz.  Both of these chefs’ names are virtually interchangeable with their restaurants, The French Laundry and Alinea.  Clearly, in these cases the chef is the restaurant, and the restaurant is the chef.  

But what about the restaurant that has stood the test of time, yet seeks a re-birth of its cuisine by hiring a new “name brand” chef?  Such is the case of Tempe’s Caffe Boa.  Open since 1994, Caffe Boa has been a mainstay in the Tempe (and metro Phoenix) dining scene.  Candidly, I had never been before.  But the hiring of Chef Payton Curry ignited my interest in checking it out.  I had been a fan of Curry’s cooking at Digestif and liked his irreverent, creative approach.  Being a new restaurant, Curry had the unique opportunity to cast Digestif with his own identity.  Charcuterie was house made, the menu deviated from the norm by offering rabbit and other game, and the room was hip without being too self-conscious. Payton’s youth (and naïveté) were supplanted with owner Peter Kasperski’s backing and veteran Pavle Milic’s smooth oversight.  Ultimately it failed, not because the food was bad, but because of economic factors beyond the chef’s reach.  

Regardless, Curry’s cooking made an impression on me.  Surely he was young and often inconsistent, but his enthusiasm compensated for his age.  So I set out to discover if, based on what I saw at Digestif, Payton Curry had made Caffe Boa his own. 

The first thing I noticed was that Pavle Milic’s slick grasp of the front-of-house operations was sorely missed.  Of course, this is Caffe Boa – not Digestif – but someone should hire Milic as a consultant to do a boot camp for the management.  The hostesses seemed frantic and unsure; they told us that our party had already checked-in and was waiting for us, even though we were a party of two. (And both of us were there!)  We arrived early and told her that we’d have a drink at the bar, but no one ever came to get us at the time of our reservation.  In fact, throughout the meal there was so much graceless running back-and-forth from the hostesses that it became a distraction.  My wife wanted to teach her how to walk in high heels. 

The second thing I noticed was the hostesses’ right breast.  Her dress was very low cut on the sides and, sans support, her right breast slipped out to greet me as she bent down to check the reservations list.  I can tell you that it appeared natural, and that she had no idea.  I’m not sure whether to put this in the “positive” or “negative” column, but it happened.  It reminded me of when Elaine’s nipple made an appearance in her holiday card on Seinfeld.  I guess it’s never a bad night when you see some boobs, especially when they are nice boobs and you aren’t paying for the privilege. 

But boobs and clueless hostesses are not what this review is about and, quite frankly, I just wish the food was as exciting as the unannounced boob appearance.  Instead, I found it uninspired, lacking discipline, and well below the expectation that Payton Curry had set for me at Digestif.  It didn’t surprise me to learn that he wasn’t in the kitchen that night; he was working at the new location, called Boa Bistro, in Mesa. 

Our server advised us that the kitchen was running slowly because of the pre-theater crowd, which was fine by us since we were really in no hurry at all.  We started with Pulled-to-Order Warm Mozzarella, followed by Foie Gras Torchon Brulee and Washington Mussels.  I’m not sure if it was the actual preparation of this dish, or an ill-conceived recipe, but the Mozzarella failed to excite me and, frankly, I have a hard time believing it was pulled-to-order as claimed.  It was melted as if it had once been warm, but it was barely warm by the time it reached our table and had already started to harden, rendering it rubbery and flavorless.  The crostini beneath it was soggy, having absorbed much of the Banyuls vinegar on the plate.  At this point, the boob-sighting made up for the weak entrée; we’ll call it a draw. 

Joshua Hebert, owner/chef at Posh and one of the nicest guys in the local food scene, once referred to foie gras as “meat flavored butter” and Caffe Boa’s Foie Gras Torchon Brulee was a pure expression of that concept.  Rich and velvety, it was everything foie gras should be.  (That's a picture of it at the top of this review, replete with my wife giving the camera that universal sign for "rock on.")  My wife felt that it paired better with the ciabatta brought to our table than with the crostini accompaniment, but that is a matter of personal preference.  They could have served it on Wonder Bread and it would have tasted good to me.  Regrettably, I should have known better than to order the Washington Mussels.  There was nothing wrong with them, per se, but the mussels at Zinc Bistro are so good that everything else pales in comparison.  This wasn’t a case of a poorly prepared dish, just a bad choice on my behalf.  They were fine, but forgettable.  Zinc Bistro has basically ruined mussels for me; I only want them there! 

Three glasses of wine into dinner, the hostesses’ breast was a distant memory and it was time for our entrees.  Hand-made pastas outnumber the “Mains” by a significant margin, so wife and I took the cue; Linguini for her, Tajarin for me.  With the exception of Marcellino and Noca, it is rare that I order pasta at a restaurant and I was pretty excited about my choice.  Tajarin is an egg-yolk heavy pasta, similar to tagliatelle, from the Piedmont region of Italy.  Caffe Boa’s preparation was somewhat non-traditional, with escargot, Madeira, fennel and a garlic butter sauce.  The pasta itself was delicious, but it was swimming in such a deep puddle of butter that I could hardly discern the flavors.  The garlic butter “sauce” was starting to break (and continued to do so, until it finally did), because the entrée turned into a tangled mess of greasy noodles.  I detected no trace of Madeira or fennel, and the sauce was so heavily laden with shallots that there was really no other flavor.  On paper this dish was something that I should have loved, but reality was something entirely different.  Although the quality of the pasta itself was excellent, this execution could have come from The Cheesecake Factory, sans snails. 

My wife’s linguini was less of a flop, but hardly exciting.  Hearty linguini was fortified with duck confit, mushrooms and grilled asparagus.  Other than the asparagus being overcooked and limp, there was not much to fault here but not much to rave about either.  It was good, but not memorable and nothing that we were served made me crave a return visit. 

I felt disappointed and underwhelmed, and had more questions than answers.  Why wasn’t the menu as creative as the wine list, which emphasizes a number of unique Eastern European offerings?  Where was the charcuterie, a great vehicle for Curry’s talents?  Is he overextended, spending his time in Tempe and Mesa, or is Boa Bistro his canvas for creativity and Caffe Boa is relegated to more predictable fare? Is this food that Curry feels passionate and excited about? 

I’ve met Payton; he’s a smart ass, and I mean that as the highest compliment.  His irreverent charm was expressed through the cuisine at Digestif and made it fun; sadly, this charm is absent at Caffe Boa.  It’s going to take more than a rabbit dinner for Easter to give Caffe Boa some personality.  Why hire a new chef if you aren’t going to give him the freedom to shine?  All I can think is that Caffe Boa isn't as good as Payton is capable of being.

Can the real Payton Curry please stand up?  

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Caffe Boa

398 South Mill Avenue

Tempe, AZ 85281

480-968-9112

www.cafeboa.com

Resort restaurants face a difficult conundrum: serve innovative cuisine and risk ostracizing hotel guests, or perpetuate predictability and appeal to the lowest-common-denominator. It’s ironic; hotel restaurants have financial resources not imaginable to small, local proprietors.  Yet, more often than not, they go the route of playing it painfully safe.  Case in point: the bevy of high-end steakhouses that have proliferated at some of the Valley’s higher-end resorts.  Further case in point: Prado at the Montelucia resort recently changed its focus from an eclectic Spanish-influenced menu to a much safer Italian theme.   Apparently, people buy spaghetti, not paella.  

Talavera, at the Four Seasons Scottsdale at Troon North, is doing something a bit different, and I like what I see.  Consistent with the Four Seasons brand, Talavera delivers quiet elegance in an understated yet spectacular setting accompanied by service so pleasant that you may want to beg your server to come home with you.  There are plenty of “safe” options on the menu, but the kitchen also flexes its creative muscle by producing regionally-inspired food using top-quality, locally sourced products. 

Previously known as “Acacia,” the restaurant was rebranded as “Talavera” following an extensive remodel that opened-up the space to one of the most breathtaking night-time views of the Valley.  Seated on the patio during an unseasonably cool night, I couldn’t take my eyes off the lights in the distance.  (Hint: Look for the alternating white and green light beacon in the distance; it’s the Scottsdale Airport, and a good indicator of how much higher in elevation the Four Seasons is from the rest of the Valley.)  Even though I was a mere 10 minutes from my house, I felt like I was on vacation.  

With Executive Chef Mel Mecinas at the helm, the kitchen at Talavera is delivering food with surprising promise, and some signs of greatness.  As a starter, the Lamb Carpaccio was full of flavor (lambiness?) and served at the appropriate temperature; not frozen, as carpaccio often is.  Commensurate with the welcome trend of house-made fresh pasta, Oxtail Ravioli with Spot Prawns and Lobster was flawlessly al-dente and exploded with contrasting flavors and textures.  But the evening’s true star was the King Crab and Beef Roulade with Wasabi Root and Ponzu.  Described to us as one of the Chef’s signature items, this unlikely combination of seafood and beef – served cool – reflected the kitchen’s skillful technical skills and solid understanding of flavor profiles.  This is a “must order” item at Talavera. 

Main courses were also well prepared, but with slightly less consistency that the starters.  My 20-oz Prime Bone-In Ribeye was certainly not avant-garde, but it was well-seasoned, tender and flavorful.  Accompanied by perfectly caramelized cipollini onions and hollandaise, this hunk of meat is second only to the Spice-Rubbed Cowboy Ribeye at BLT Steak.  It’s a solid choice for any carnivore. 

My dining companion’s Duck Breast with figs, fennel and peach was less successful.  Although properly prepared, he felt that the use of seasonal ingredients seemed “forced;” maybe it would have been better to stick with a more traditional approaching from the saucier. 

Entrees are a la carte, and additions are a hefty $9 per item…but you’ll hardly notice the price when you’re gazing out at the Valley below, watching hawks circle in the moonlight above you.  I had a tough time resisting the Crab Mac & Cheese which, admittedly, is tough to mess-up if you’re using good cheese and crab.  The Charred Corn was also good, simultaneously sweet and smoky.  

Yet, oddly enough, it was the Zucchini with Mint and Lemon that “wowed” me more than anything else during the meal.  Just as the Braised Leeks have defined Charlene Badman’s cuisine at FnB, the Zucchini with Mint and Lemon has the power to do the same at Talavera.  It’s that good; good enough, in fact, that my dining companion tried to make it at home the next day. 

Good food is made better by polished service.  As one would expect of a Four Seasons property, the service is impeccable.  Penny, our server, could teach a lot of pros in this town a few things about being friendly and approachable, yet smart and professional.  The al fresco dining experience at Talavera is the quintessential expression of the casual elegance that defines the Four Seasons. 

What struck me the most about Talavera, and the resort as a whole, was its modesty.    I’ve always maintained that the person with $5 million has a much bigger ego than the one with $100 million, and the same analogy can be applied here.  Although much has been written about the celebrity chefs behind Bourbon Steak, BLT Steak and – to a lesser extent – Elements (although I really don’t think that Beau MacMillan has reached celebrity status), Talavera achieves a level of excellence without the glitz, glam and pretense.  

Simply, Talavera is luxuriously humble.  

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Talavera at The Four Seasons Scottsdale at Troon North

10600 East Crescent Moon Drive

Scottsdale, AZ 85262

480-515-5700

www.fourseasons.com/scottsdale

Twitter: @FSScottsdale 

Disclosure:

This is the first review I have ever written in which I did not pay for my own meal.  I enjoyed a “stay-cation” at the resort which I paid for, but dinner was complimentary.  It is tough to say if this had a bearing on my sentiments about the restaurant.  Everything tastes better when it’s free (especially when it doesn’t suck…) but pointing-out any shortcomings would not have had a bearing on me, as the vacation is over and paid-for by the time this review was posted.  Simply put: I had nothing to gain by being nice, and nothing to lose if I had declared it unfit for human consumption.