by Gary Weinberg on March 7, 2010
I know, I know. I said I would be back February 1st and we are into March. What can I say, I was busy. So, lets get on with it… I blog therefore I am!
I discovered Spinato’s Pizza hidden deep within the bowels of a Tempe industrial park and I have to admit that I was skeptical to say the least. If one were looking for this place, it would be hard to find… perhaps that’s part of the mystique of Spinato’s Pizza. I mean seriously, how do people find this place? “Well, I was out at the office supply warehouse, and suddenly had a hankering for pizza… oh how convenient!” Yep….
Spinato’s is family owned and operated… straight out of Chicago. I know a thing or two about a thing or two but when it comes to pizza perhaps I need re-educated. I’ve always had this stereotype about Chicago Pizza. I always think of it as disgustingly thick, loaded with toppings and sauce, all buried so far under the cheese that you don’t even realize their presence, and then it sits like a brick in your stomach for three days so you finally have to go to the hospital and demand a stomach pumping so you can go on with your life. Spinato’s blew my stereotype out of the water.
Before I go on, let me preface this with the statement that I intended to go into Spinato’s to have a modest dining experience; yes, it would be a “dietary indiscretion” but in moderation. My experience turned so gluttonous that I will probably banned into the seventh circle of hell. Gluttony can only be described as one of the seven deadly sins whereby one takes pride in having so much food to show off, but will result in a moral backlash when confronted with the reality of those less fortunate. Let’s throw that concept out the door right now.
The interior of Spinato’s looked like it either used to be the corner of a warehouse or was being renovated. They only had around 10 tables and the place was packed. The menu is limited; it’s your typical pizza menu: Pizza, sandwiches, salads, a few pastas, etc. Besides the pizza, the item that caught my eye was the Spaghetti and meatball Calzone. This could be interesting, I thought to myself. We started off with an order of the Garlic Cheesy bread as an appetizer, a Spaghetti and meatball Calzone, and a Medium Pizza.
The garlic cheesy bread arrived first, it came out on a long plate, and when the aroma of garlic hit my nostrils, I wanted to dive into this thing like Kevin Smith going after every passengers’ peanuts on a Southwest flight. Grandma would have been proud, it went down like butter! The combination of fresh garlic, lots of butter, and Spinato’s signature sweet sauce makes this work.
Almost as if the stars were aligned, as soon as we finished the last piece of Garlic Cheesy Bread the Spaghetti and Meatball Calzone landed on our table. Since I had already concluded that Spinato’s sauce was ridiculously delightful, I was ecstatic to see that they cover the Calzone with this wonderful sauce. As the first bite of this thing hit my palate, my mouth exploded with all the wonderful textures and flavors of this unique Italian delight. The spaghetti, meatballs, and ricotta cheese stuffed inside a unique baked pastry is simply fantastic! I wondered to myself, was this creation the result of some mad scientist tucked away in a kitchen laboratory, or possibly some kids smoking pot who had the munchies one night and couldn’t decide if they wanted a Calzone, or if they wanted spaghetti… and said hell with it, we will have both!
Sadly, I started filling up. I can’t eat like I used to. What a drag. The Calzone was begging to be finished. Then, the star of the Spinato’s show arrived. I suddenly got a second wind.
The pizza is a traditional round pie cut into evenly sliced squares. I like that Spinato’s places it on a cooling rack on top of the pizza pan, allowing the air to circulate around it. We ordered a medium with sausage and pepperoni. Hallelujah, the crust is almost pastry like and embodied a perfect crispy texture. This crust and sauce complement each other nicely, as they should. I could probably just lock myself into a room with this pizza and not need much else. The good folks at Spinato’s have this art down to a science. The only downer I could comment on is that the mushrooms were clearly the canned variety. Other than that, this pie was damn near perfect. Thus far, clearly the best pizza I have tried in Phoenix.
I give Spinato’s the coveted, “Goes Down Like Butter” Award. They have 4 locations around the valley, and it’s worth a bit of a drive for good pizza. Cheers!
Spinato’s Pizza
227 S Smith Road
Tempe, AZ 85281
(480) 967-0020
http://www.spinatos.com
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by Gary Weinberg on January 25, 2010
I know, I’ve been MIA for a few months… Every once and a while we all need to step back and re-evaluate where we are in life. I took a bit of a break from eating for a while for health reasons. Now that it’s all behind me, I’m coming back! Beginning February 1st, we will have all new reviews, updates, and more goodies! To all my loyal readers, thank you again for sticking by me!
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by Gary Weinberg on November 4, 2009
Wait, there’s nothing wrong with your browser! Loosely translated, the title means “My first sandwich at Philippe’s.” Hey, I don’t pretend to speak French; I have no idea how to pronounce it. However, from what I’ve been told, no trip to L.A. is complete without stopping by Philippe’s in Chinatown for a French Dip.
Philippe’s was established in 1908 by restaurateur Philippe Mathieu. And as the story goes, in 1918 while he was preparing a sandwich for a patron, Philippe accidentally dropped a sliced French roll in a pan of juice still hot in the oven. The patron insisted that he still assemble the sandwich with the dipped roll and returned the next day with friends and asked for the sandwich to be prepared “dipped” again. Voilà! The French dip was born!
Here’s how it works: you enter Philippe’s (another time warped restaurant… I’m starting to see a pattern with the places I eat), you pick a line to get into (they get pretty backed up in this place), the line leads you to a carving station where a really nice older lady will take your order, ring you up (cash only), and serve your food. As far as the French Dip sandwiches go, you can get Beef, Pork, Turkey, Ham, or Lamb. Then the question remains, how wet do you want your sandwich? As far as I could tell, the default was single dipped; but the more adventurous can order double dipped, or the infamous “wet.” The lines get long, but they move pretty quickly. However, if you’re in one of those “Billy Mays I can’t stand still” moods, you best not come here. It takes a little patience.
Getting down and dirty, when I reached the carving station/counter I ordered the standard Beef Dip, single dipped ($5.55) with a pickled egg ($0.80) and an iced tea ($0.65). The iced tea sounds like a good deal, but just keep in mind that refills are not included with your 65 cents.
I took my tray to a corner table and sat down. I noticed they keep a plastic bottle of mustard at most of the tables. A word to the wise: go easy on that stuff! It will give you a good, old fashioned sinus cleansing if you eat too much. I found out the hard way.
I’m going to give it to you straight up – The French Dip is very tasty, the meat was sliced thin, the bread is nice and soft (I noticed a lot of good bread in L.A.) they juice it up for you… it’s a fine sandwich and a good deal. Honestly though, it didn’t truly blow my skirt up though.
Philippe’s is an L.A. institution and great experience, but I think it lacked something. Neither the texture nor the flavor of the roast beef blew me away. It’s a good, solid sandwich and some good history. I’m glad I experienced Philippe’s because it’s amazing to eat at place that’s been around for 100 years. However, it’s been so over-hyped on the Travel Channel and the Food Network that I think I had built it up so much in my mind that in the end I was a little bit let down. My final verdict? I say if you’re in the L.A. area, for god sakes don’t go to Subway, stop at Philippe’s, get a sandwich, a lemonade, and enjoy the history. Overall, it’s a good meal at a fair price.
Philippe’s
1001 N Alameda Street
Los Angeles, CA 90012
(213) 628-3781
www.philippes.com
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by Gary Weinberg on October 31, 2009
I realize it’s a little late in the day but I wanted to wish all my readers Happy Halloween! Stay tuned for more Good Greasy Reviews next week!
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by Lola Davidovich on October 27, 2009
When I heard about a pizza happy hour, I knew I had to check it out for myself. I admit that I was skeptical, I mean how good can a $5 pizza really be? I expected mystery meat, moldy cheese, and runny spaghetti sauce on day old bread, ie. Alpo on a plate. But La Grande Orange Pizzeria blew me away! In fact it was one of the best pies that I’ve ever had.
The first thing that I noticed about La Grande Orange was its trendy interior. This place is no roadside diner. It was classy casual. The decor is similar to a hip New York City Italian eatery, and the staff were comfortably dressed in jeans and t-shirts. Our waiter was very pleasant and extremely helpful. We ordered drinks, a happy hour pizza, and dessert, and I was thoroughly impressed from start to finish.
Our waiter brought us an extensive wine list. Normally, when I order pizza, I’m sitting on my sofa at home, watching HBO with a six pack, so I was a bit thrown by a multi-page wine list at a pizza joint. But La Grande Orange has a great concept, because they have their own market attached to the restaurant, where you can pick out a bottle of wine (or ask your server to go grab it for you) and enjoy it with your dinner. Normally, I feel stupid when I order a $7 glass of house wine, knowing darn well that I could get the whole bottle at Safeway for $5.99. La Grande Orange doesn’t rip you off on wine– you only pay retail price for the bottle– what a deal! Although, I loved the wine concept, I was curious about the “Famous Sangria”. It was a delicious white wine, infused with citrus flavor, and garnished with a mountain of orange slices. What else would you expect from a place where the name translates to “The Big Orange”?
Here’s how the pizza happy hour works (9 p.m – close, Monday – Thursday). You get a plain cheese pie for $5, and then you can dress it up for a few extra bucks with goodies like prosciutto di san daniele, black forest ham, pepperoni, fresh arugula, sauteed mushrooms, corn, egg, and garlic. We opted for a pepperoni, garlic, and fresh basil pizza. When the pie came out, it looked amazing, and tasted even better. The crust was light and crispy, the pepperoni was thinly sliced and covered with fresh cheese, and the basil and garlic added a bit of extra flavor. There were no overpowering flavors because everything on this pizza meshed perfectly together.
The pizza was great, and not too filling. When our waiter asked us about dessert, I wasn’t overstuffed and thought that I could push my appetite, but probably shouldn’t. If you ever find yourself in this conundrum at La Grande Orange, push it and get dessert! Not only does this place have a market attached, it also has its own bakery. We asked our waiter about the red velvet cake, and he described it as an “upscale twinkie”. It sounded interesting, so we gave it a whirl. This dessert was no twinkee. It was a little slice of heavenly goodness! The cake was not overly sweet, incredibly moist, and tastefully layered with a light cream cheese frosting. We devoured it like a fat kid downs a Snickers before gym class!
Overall, I was diggin’ La Grande Orange. I know that the Phoenix New Times raves about The Parlor, but in this writer’s opinion, don’t waste your time there– give La Grande Orange a try for a less expensive and tastier pizza.
La Grande Orange Pizzeria
4410 N 40th St
Phoenix, AZ 85018
(602) 840-7777
www.lagrandeorangepizzeria.com
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by Gary Weinberg on October 26, 2009
Ahh, Langer’s… a legendary deli frozen in time. The days of the New York style delicatessen have been gradually dwindling away. They are harder to find as they are replaced by the corporate giants; the Schlotzskys, the Jason’s Delis, and dare I say…. the Subways. But there is still hope. For me, dining at Langer’s was a spiritual pilgrimage – it was praying at my own Wailing Wall. Okay, I’m being a bit melodramatic.
Langer’s is a whole experience; dining there is just half the fun. You have to negotiate driving in L.A., and then, the questionable neighborhood where Langer’s resides. Langer’s is located at 7th and Alvarado, right across the street from McArthur Park. As I mentioned before, the neighborhood is well…. shady. I read somewhere that this area of L.A. is where one would go to get a fake I.D. Why didn’t someone tell me that when I was 17? Langer’s offers parking one block east of where the restaurant sits. You get one free hour of parking as long as your ticket is validated. I felt like that one block walk from the parking lot to the restaurant was negotiating a gauntlet of unsavory characters and ne’er-do-wells. I’ll be honest, I was little scared to take some exterior shots of Langer’s as I feared that my camera would get stolen. Thankfully, I made it into Langer’s without being robbed, mugged, or sexually assaulted. Phewww.
The Langer’s interior sort of reminded me of an old game room basement from when I was a kid. They had the brown pleather booths and counter stools… 70′s brown, and the light fixtures had those old beige lamp shades, all classic diner decor. We were quickly seated and began examining the menu. Langer’s has been reviewed/blogged hundreds of times. Everybody always says, “get the #19.” The #19 is Langer’s #1 seller. It’s Pastrami on rye with a slice of swiss, coleslaw, and Russian dressing. I didn’t want to be like everybody else: I ordered the #10 ($12.70), which is Pastrami on rye with a slice of swiss, and Russian dressing. Yeah, I just ordered the #19 without the coleslaw. My dining companion ordered Matzo Ball soup and a half of a pastrami sandwich on an onion roll.
While we were waiting for our Jewish goodness to come up, I kept looking around for some celebrity eating incognito at Langer’s Deli. I’ve been to L.A. a few times and have gone to some of the famous spots like Pink’s Hotdogs, but I have never had a celebrity sighting. As my ass squeaked across the pleather booth while I turned around, I wondered if the guy sitting a few booths away eating a #19 was Ted Danson. It wasn’t.
Our waitress, Alice, brought our food out a few minutes later. Just looking at this brilliant sandwich made me want to attack it like a fat kid going after an ice cream cake. I sunk my teeth in to the Pastrami, and then was whisked away into a different dimension of deliciously smoked, tender lunch meats. Oy Vey, it went down like BUTTER (that’s for you Grandma)!
I’m really not an expert in Pastrami, but I think I figured out why this stuff just melts in your mouth. I’ve had Pastrami at a few different places in different parts of the country. The Langer’s difference is that it’s hand-carved pretty thick, it’s sugar cured and peppered, BUT….here’s the kicker: it’s slightly fatty. Not too fatty that it’s unpleasant, but just enough to give it some good flavor during the smoking and steaming process. Of course, that’s just my opinion, I could be wrong.
A few other notes; Matzo ball soup was pretty good. Not too salty, and the matzo balls were solid. The entire menu is robust with traditional Jewish deli menu items such as liver and onions, potato pancakes, malts, shakes, and oodles of desserts. I’m a little disappointed in myself that I didn’t try some of the other menu items, or get a dessert, but the whole L.A. trip was a bit rushed. It gives me something to try when I come back.
Except for the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder I now have from my one block walk from the car to Langer’s Deli through the gauntlet of derelicts and homeless people, the whole Langer’s experience was definately a mecca of the pastrami world. Can Katz in New York City hold up to Langer’s? Stay tuned to find out.
Langer’s
704 S Alvarado St
Los Angeles, CA 90057
(213) 483-8050
www.langersdeli.com
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