It would be ballsy to open a restaurant in the shadow of a closed Target. Targets don’t exactly inhabit subtle buildings, so to have a giant reaper romp as your backdrop, you’ve gotta really play up the positivity, you know?

When we heard that there was a BBQ joint going into a funky building at 7^th Avenue and Camelback, we first thought: Hooray! And then we thought: But it’s in front of a giant closed Target at a depressing intersection… oh man. Like sage gets rid of bad spirits, these guys would need to burn the fires of hickory, mesquite, and apple wood like crazy to bring some welcoming vibe into that old building and the parking lot that surrounds it. So hickory smoke they did, but is it working?

The place is called Circle H Barbecue, and it’s owned by the folks who did Copper Star Coffee down the block. Copper Star is full of personality – an old gas station turned coffee shop. It feels like the kind of place you’d find in any small town across America. Circle H, though, is the opposite – lacking in personality, and the kind of place you’d find, well, on the corner of 7^th Ave. and Camelback in front of a dark strip mall.

On our last visit, no music was playing. The bathrooms wreaked of a sulfur leak. WREAKED! And the smell of BBQ was masked by said bathroom odor leaking out into the dining room. Still, we had done a take-out order from Circle H right after they opened, and we were impressed by the food – so we wanted to sit down and take the menu for a proper test drive.

Our takeout order was simple: It called The Big One ($31) and it comes with a hot link, half rack of ribs, a chicken breast, and half pound of brisket, with two sides—we chose fries and candied pork baked beans. We also subbed pulled pork for the hot link. From this order, the chicken was deliciously smoky and juicy, the brisket was chopped (usually the sign of a pitmaster unhappy with the brisket turnout) but still mouthwateringly good, solid ribs with a nice smoke ring and just enough tug off the bone, and juicy pulled pork with a perfect amount of salt. The fries were freshly cut and perfectly fried – not too greasy. The candied pork baked beans were insane – musta been a billion calories but they were totally worth it.

This meal was enough to feed three people, and considering how good it all was only two weeks after opening, it made us plan the big visit.

That’s where things didn’t live up to visit number one … Or should we say, that’s where things took a turn for the salty. Here was our order:

Deviled Eggs (six for $4)
Cold Cheese Dip with tortilla chips ($6)
The Del Rey Burger (Schreiner’s Andouille sausage, cheddar, brown mustard, on a half-pound patty, $10)
The Big One (see above)
Green Chilies and Pork Chili ($5)
Sides: Candied Baked Beans, Hand-Cut Fries, 3 Cheese Mac & Cheese, and Grilled Veggies

The deviled eggs had a good smokey flavor but someone must have spilled the Morton’s over them because they were practically crusted with salt. The cold cheese dip would have been good had we been someone else, someone really into cold cheese dip. Maybe it’s just not our thing. We asked our server to heat it up and see what happens, but then it became an oil fest. (It covered up the salt nicely!) The chips were good though. The Del Rey Burger was crazy – a heart attack on a plate. The sausage had good flavor, the burger tasted like Wendy’s (not necessarily a bad thing, just an observation), and it comes on a pretzel bun … which normally would be a good thing, but the salt from the sausage mixed with the salt from the burger seasoning and the salt on the bun made this dish an exercise in sodium chloride. Excuse me, miss … Can I have some more water?

The Big One was noticeably of lower quality than our first visit. The brisket, although sliced now, was heavily sodium chlorided; the pork was strangely under-sodium-chlorided and had less flavor than visit number one; the chicken’s skin was totally over-charred, and inside, the meat bordered on dry; and the ribs were almost all smoke ring—meaning the meat was glisteningly pink. It looked raw but it wasn’t. Here’s how we know we weren’t crazy about them—nobody went back for a second rib. That’s just not like us.

The mac & cheese, in our opinion, could benefit from something a little sharper, and the veggies must have been next to eggs, because they were covered in salt. Sheesh, do these guys have stock in a salt mine or somethin’? Our pork chili was more like a soup—total liquid with very little pay dirt at the bottom of the bowl.

After looking down at our barely eaten meal, we looked up to the old-timey pictures on the walls. They depict people in sometimes desolate landscapes, ones not unlike the area around Circle H. This place just has no pizazz. No personality. No vision. We’re pulling for them, because good BBQ could be a catalyst for change in that vicinity. Thankfully, everything in meal number two was good enough to try again down the road – it’s all moments away from becoming really good. Apparently, though, the challenge for them isn’t making good ‘que, it’s repeating the process every day. That, and fixing that rancid odor in the bathroom.

730 W. Camelback Rd.
Phoenix, AZ
602-277-0896
www.circlehbarbecue.com

At some point you’ve gotta just admit some things to yourself. Today, one of those things is that the people passing through Scottsdale and Shea don’t want their food to be overly good (meaning expensive) and they don’t want their food overly bad (meaning, well, bad). For this reason, a place like Claim Jumper thrived for years in a huge space on the northwest corner. But now that Claim Jumper’s gone due to bankruptcy, its replacement may just nail the niche that sorta neighborhood thrives on—perfectly mediocre food at a perfectly average price in a perfectly booth-filled dining room.

Jasmine Tokyo Buffet has kept virtually every element of Claim Jumpers, from the river rock walls to the actual booths to the old box TV’s in the bar, but on one side of the restaurant, a giant buffet was plopped down. We don’t imagine this place resembles Tokyo in any way, shape, or form, but it does resemble the kind of restaurant that will probably do well here.

The buffet is a cornucopia of “Asian delights,” as one Yelper put it. From sushi rolls and sashimi to cooked dishes, a meat station, dessert bar, salad bar, apps, and build your own situation. Sure there was one piece of yellowtail sashimi that received a single bite before being concealed in a napkin; sure there were a couple pieces of breaded chicken that wouldn’t cut; sure the beef with broccoli was basically beef in soy sauce; but overall, all things considered, the meal was totally edible.

There’s a full bar, and the place works like a typical buffet. Sit and order drinks, then get right to it. Some of our favorite items: ribs, shrimp cakes, pork gyoza, and strangely, the crab Rangoon. All of these items were above par for a buffet situation, whereas everything else we tried was simply on par. Make sure while you’re circling that you tell the staff to keep refreshing the chafing the dishes. There’s nothing we are more scared of than congealed pork (unless of course it’s congealed fish). As you can see from the dishes above, we tried the calamari (sweet and spicy, not too tough), all the chicken dishes, some breaded shrimp, and some other stuff that should probably just be labeled “some other stuff.”

We stopped in for lunch, where the options are noticeably paired down, but so is the price. We paid about $12 per person; for dinner that fee jumps up only $8 and you get access to a prime rib station, oyster bar, crab legs, and more “Asian delights.” Will we be back? Probably not. But do we recommend you give it a try just to say you gave it a try? Sure. No one got sick. No one felt price gouged. And no one hated their meal from top to bottom. What more can you ask for at Scottsdale and Shea?

Jasmine Tokyo Buffet
7000 E. Shea Blvd.
Scottsdale, AZ
480-991-0655
www.jasminetokyo.com

No Food Review today. Some might say we’re not doing one because we’re lazy. Not true, we planned one for Kitchen 56. But some might say that we were actually so unhappy with our meal there that we couldn’t write anything without sounding like total A-holes.

But the truth is, we want you to revisit www.localdines.com if you haven’t in a while. See, we’ve actually been using this service more and more, so we thought you should know that we’re not promoting this for any other reason than: we find it damn useful!

Local Dines offers up half-off coupons to a huge list of local restaurants. The coupons usually come in $30 or $50 denominations. You can search alphabetically, by region, or by cuisine to find a place you like. The coupons can just sit in your phone, in your glovebox, or wherever. It’s kind of a bummer that the system tracks your use so you can’t use them over and over, but that’s why you have friends!

We’ve used them for Tommy V’s, Christopher’s, 5th & Wine, Sens, Cuoco Pazzo, and La Bocca. The list is truly impressive. So while everyone else is worrying about dining out according to Groupon’s schedule, you can dine out according to your own. Half off, that is.

Check it out: www.localdines.com

Going to a restaurant the night after it opens and devouring your meal is the food lover’s equivalent to the perfect golf swing. At the moment, all seems right with the world, you really can’t believe it’s happening, and you keep denying that it actually indeed just happened.

Well, it happened to us this week at the brand spankin’ new Cask 63 and, we’ll be honest, we really didn’t see it coming. Cask 63 inhabits the old Bloom restaurant space, at Scottsdale and Doubletree Ranch Roads. You may have read on azcentral.com that it’s the maiden venture for a pair of Eddie V’s alum–Jerry Tingle and Chef Brian Feirstein. The duo have likely bet the farm on this huge 6,500-square-foot space, but if our meal is any indication of what’s to come, they’re going to fare just fine.

It was a party of three and we’ll admit that we only took the appetizer portion of the menu for a spin, but the entrées we saw coming out of the kitchen and the reaction on people’s faces told enough of a story as well. Our Blue Point Oysters came out Eddie V’s perfect—smooth, creamy, mild taste of sea. The housemade cocktail sauce leaned towards sweet than spicy, which left room for small but intense dabs of housemade horseradish—a little dab’ll do ya! Look for the tinge of orange in it, balancing out the spice—it’s in there. The mignonette was crisp and clear, and we found ourselves dipping the shrimp cocktail in it just for a fun combo. Said shrimp came three giants with an apple and pear slaw for $13.

Then it was onto cooked seafood. The Crab Cakes 3 Ways, $14, come traditional Maryland style (we found it a little too creamy, but giant lumps of juicy crab and a perfectly seared crust more than made up for it), a smaller cake with a corn slant (If cornbread were a crab cake, this would be it!), and our favorite, the crab fritter. Heavily seasoned, this smoky little guy will be the one dining partners fight over. We wanted to order a bag of fritters to go, and maybe could have convinced the server, had he not finally brought some bread to the table.

Yes, the bread came late. But yes, this bread is probably the reason we didn’t order an entrée. Seeing a restaurant do more than slice up a loaf and throw out a dish of patted butter always makes you feel they care. Noshing on something akin to warm pretzel bread with three creamy butter types (mustard seed, cayenne and honey, and regular old), makes you feel like they really really care. We burned through the dish and asked for another. We then warned them that this will happen to other people and affect check averages. Could bread that’s too good be the thing that takes Cask 63 down?

Doubtful, only because we predict word will get around about their $11 Wild Mushroom Flatbread. Thin crust (we admit, could have used a little crisp on the bottom) but like any disagreement we had with the food, we were quickly distracted by strong, deftly combined flavors. Meaty mushrooms, caramelized onions, Fontina cheese mixed down into a sauce rather than a topping, balsamic reduction mixed in, and a drizzle of truffle oil, this flatbread was absolutely delicious and will definitely go on the “order again” list.

To achieve an air of health-conscious responsibility, we eyed the salads and ordered the Spinach Salad, $7, which came standing at attention to show off a warm bacon balsamic dressing and cotija cheese. Also on the plate—red onion, tomato, and glazed cashews which replaced almonds on this particular night. We suggested it as a permanent change – who doesn’t love cashews?! We’ll see if it sticks.

Without wine, our food bill came to about $80 and we were perfectly full. But one of the most iconic figures in our local spirits biz, Dave Johnson, is heading up the wine side of the menu, which is a fun and about 75 labels deep with about 30 of them offered by the glass. You know what Johnson’s presence means … Bottle of Priorat please! Another bottle of Priorat please! Johnson’s the perfect presence for this room, his big personality carries through in this big space, and he can subtly upsell you like few somms can (and you’ll actually be happy he did). Prices on the wine list varied from spot on to a tad high. Some simply weren’t competitive at all. Silver Oak costs $130 here but you can get it south of a Benjamin over at Tommy V’s down the road. If you’re ordering by the bottle at Cask 63, though, your choices get noticeably more interesting. Maybe we’ll see some price tweaking in the coming weeks? Hope so.

Some things we hope don’t get tweaked because they sound perfect: Creekstone Farms Premium Black Angus Beef Brisket Burger with bacon, pepper jack, and onion on a ciabatta; Lobster Pot Pie; and the fennel-crusted White Marble Farms Pork Tenderloin with with grain mustard demi, gnocchi, and bacon and Napa cabbage who knows what else …

It all sounds great, and it all sounds like we’ll be back.

Cask 63
8877 N. Scottsdale Rd.
Scottsdale, AZ
480-312-2461
http://cask63.com (beware, the website is but a shell at the moment)

The decision was born of sheer necessity. We needed some stuff for the office and only furniture pieces named with that Swedish twäang would do – pieces named things like Hagalund or Len Stjärna. But we also needed lunch and wanted it to be as convenient as putting together a chair with that universal tool.

IKEA, here we come. IKEA Restaurant, here we come first. Headed up the escalator at 1pm on a Wednesday, we expected a small crowd, but the restaurant was packed to the hilt, hardly a Jules chair available. Even during the mid afternoon madness, the soft glow of Melodi pendants worked to calm the space. So without delay, we got into the cafeteria line and began choosing items from the large menu boards hanging over the cafeteria workers spooning out food.

IKEA is smart. You know how they put together room vignettes to help you visualize the furniture in action? In the cafeteria line, they start you with the dessert case, just as your body is saying “I need calories and need them stäat” (stäat is IKEA for stat) it follows up with “Ohh, cake! Yes, please.”

So here we are, two grown and totally straight men headed to lunch, and we’re discussing how the Chocolate Overload Cake looks delicious but the pink marzipan filled with vanilla custard and raspberry jam is the best value at $1.29. Looking around, everyone’s purchased a dessert they otherwise normally wouldn’t have – all thanks to IKEA’s powers of suggestion/manipulation. Who knew the Swedes were so cunning?!

It’s as if the universe wanted us to eat at IKEA on this day because it turned out to be “Rib Wednesday.” No joke. Rib. Wednesday. At IKEA. Here we are, creators of the Arizona Barbecue Festival and lovers of all things smoked and we’re in line for ribs in a modern furniture store. This couldn’t be more perfect, like that great Varlikt vase, available for only $14.99. Or Tyda finding himself in the accessories department.

The ribs come as a half rack with a side of fries and square of cornbread for $7.99. Even if they were only mediocre, this meal would be a value. But after the first bite, one of us said “these would win” – meaning that in the world of BBQ competition, these are actually passable, damn tasty pieces of pork worth some $$$. They’re competition worthy. Smokey, sweet, meaty. We couldn’t believe it.

The crispy chicken tenders were, of course, a value as well at only $4.99 for four large pieces and a side of fries. Although they were more fried than chicken, the batter mixture was delicious—salty enough to have you continue reaching for the obligatory lingonberry juice box. Speaking of lingonberries, no order of Swedish meatballs is complete without some on the side. The meatballs at IKEA are the most iconic item, sold by the crate-load frozen down in the market, and flying out of heated pans up here in the restaurant. They come about 15 balls to an order with a side of mashed potatoes and those lingonberries for $3.99. We threw in an order out of sheer giddiness. We’ve always thought those meatballs could use a tad more crisp around the edges, but just watch how you can’t stop eating them. Any complaint is quickly squashed by their overall deliciousness.

And that marzipan. It was a perfect way to end the meal, even if it was strange to see two grown men eating a pink cake. Had anyone made a snide remark, we would have just yelled “Ombytlig!” which would have sent them running to housewares for the fun $1.99 mugs.

After lunch, we headed back downscalator for a couple cups of 75 cent coffee (which was, like everything else, surprisingly good). Then it was time to go find a couple Gravas and a Björkudden. Maybe consider an $8 Orgel.

By the way, lunch clocked in at about $20, and we didn’t have to use a single universal tool to put anything together.

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It’s tough to do a food review when you put together a bill that totals $230 and it’s made up of super affordable tacos, elotes, sharable stuff, and a couple rounds of beers. The problem is that things move fast. You’ve gotta get in there, get your tacos, claim the ones you think you may have ordered. If it’s a good taco, you’ve gotta share, one bite only. If it isn’t, you’ve gotta warn the crew. It’s taco mayhem.

Our order for this story was a bombardment that would have been the entire menu in most places. But at the new Barrio Queen in downtown Scottsdale, we barely scratched the surface.

Barrio Queen is the newest venture by Silvana Salcido-Esparza, the chef who created Barrio Café in Phoenix. Barrio Café, as you probably know, has received widespread attention for the level of food turned out of this small, lively spot. The new Barrio Queen is casual and half the equation for Salcido-Esparza’s expansion, with the more entrée-heavy Silvana Bistro set to open on New Year’s Eve.

We know, we know, how can EATERAZ justify a food review when Barrio Queen has been open for approximately two seconds? Easy, because 1) who says we have to wait? And 2) we’re telling you that our meal was pretty damn good and you’d be doing yourself a favor if you went there now. The taco side of the menu is insane, with 46 choices, all between $2.50 and $4.75 each. On weekends, there’s about eight more taco choices, mainly filled with barbacoa, duck, and funny parts like cow eyes and brains.

We ordered about 20 different tacos for a group of five. So rather than bore you with a play-by-play, we’ll cut to the chase. The three best tacos we had: the Pescado (Dos XX draft beer battered fish with a spicy cream salsa), any of the nopal tacos (we had them all but our fave was the nopal y chile verde), and the Milanesa y jamon (breaded pork with ham and sautéed onion, roasted pepper mix). We’d probably say that another our favorites was the arrachera y huevo taco (steak with a fried egg) but Grant Crone, a local publicist and not one for this restaurant, was in our group and he ate the whole damn thing before anyone got a chance to ask how it was. He said it was his favorite, but he’s a taco stealer, so take his opinion with a grain de sal.

We probably wouldn’t order the Judio again (smoked salmon with cucumber salsa and queso fresco)–it was just goupy and weird. And the Camaron con Coco (spicy shrimp with fresh coconut) didn’t really deliver, but hey, they can’t all be winners.

Here’s the thing – the menu is 11 pages long. It’s like a Cheesecake Factory of Mexican food, only instead of ads, you get to find out that Barrio t-shirts are on sale for $19. You’ll also find a bunch of Don Julio logos everywhere (even on place mats!) urging you to ask the question: “Is this place owned by Don Julio?” Remember when we asked that question of Vitamin T? Logos, logos everywhere! (even on the bathroom mirror…) But whatever, Salcido-Esparza is in Scottsdale now, where everything is a branding opportunity for, well, brands. And she has certainly become one. So along with low riders, she’s apparently brought merchandising.

But back to the food. Besides tacos, we also tried a carnitas torta that was mouthwateringly delicious, elotes conveniently served in a cup with a roasted pepper mix, butter mayo, aged cotija cheese, tapatio salsa, and lime (you can order this on the cobb as well), Las Papas which come as thick fries topped in green or red pork chile (we tried both and the table agreed—green was better than red but red was still good and worth ordering again), guacamole served like Barrio Café always has–chunky, full of freshness, and chock full of pomegranate seeds–and a chicken mole burro that went down quick. The weakest of the other stuff was the Lucha Libre Tostillocos which translates as cheaper chips served with Japanese peanuts, spicy tamarind candy, cucumbers, diced jicama, mango, chamoy chile, lime … in our opinion, they didn’t work. Our server got wind of this and quickly took them off the table and off the bill – nice move! We don’t expect them to last on this menu.

So what’s the future hold for this pair of restaurants? We predict longevity. We predict a possible melding of the two concepts into one. We also predict we’ll be back and probably see you there.

Barrio Queen
7114 E. Stetson Dr.
Scottsdale, AZ 85251
480-656-4197
www.barrioqueen.com

Somewhere in a Tatum Boulevard strip mall, sandwiched between Shogun Sushi and a Sprouts, is a little gem that’s been cranking out some fine home cookin’ for a couple years.

The name immediately made us think of a small cable TV show back in the ’80s called the Uncle Floyd Show. It was a half-improvised, low-to-no budget production with sketch comedy and live music (ranging from local talent to star performers like the Ramones and Bon Jovi).

And our Floyd’s on Tatum is an off-the-main-radar eatery that’s not that unlike its TV namesake. It has one of those kitchen sink-type menus, with everything from a half dozen flat bread pizzas to mahi tacos to burgers, salads, and some surprises. This sliver of a space is low design but comfortable, and the downright friendly and attentive service feels more improvised than disinterested and rehearsed.

Yelpers have blessed this little spot with great ratings but those people are so impressionable. We loved it, yes, but it’s really just a good go-to, nothing more, nothing less.

We dropped by for lunch and the place was busy. We seated ourselves and within two minutes were greeted by a server. We began with an order of ceviche and the hummus trio. Honestly, the portions were so enormous, the hummus itself could feed a small family. Sadly, it would be better served as spackle than food, three baseball size scoops of very clumpy and dry hummus (garlic and parmesan, roasted red pepper, and cilantro and jalapeño) that we poured a cup of olive oil over in an attempt to rehydrate. That said, the accompanying pita was well seasoned and delicious. The ceviche tasted fresh and the mango was a refreshing touch.

After powering our way through the starters, we opted for a bowl of the seafood chowder to combat the chilly weather. It came as chunks of salmon, shrimp, and mahi in a very creamy base. Another gut bomb, really, but more of the good and hearty variety.

Trying to lighten it up and play it safe, we threw in a traditional club sandwich and fries. Always the litmus test, we feel that any restaurant who can’t get a simple sandwich down has no business being in business. Well, they rode the line hard on theirs. Nothing great, but nothing terrible. Just downright average.

Next up was the much written about meatloaf. They blend beef and turkey and cook it with chunks of mozzarella inside. Gravy-smothered and garlic mashed beside it, it really does do the “Home Cooking” section of the menu justice. Very comforting indeed.

Lastly we decided to just throw ourselves on the sword and order the Beef Stroganoff. If it was as good as the meatloaf, then it would be worth the extra 4,000 calories and surely guarantee our midday nap. Well it was. Straightforward, tender strips of flavorful beef, co-mingling with a bed of egg noodles and all SMOTHERED by a rich gravy.

Was Floyd’s a home run? Nope. Was it decent and should you go if on Tatum? Yep. Regardless, it’s nice to find a small, untrendy place to eat, a place where someone’s using grandma’s recipes, even if grandma was only a half decent cook.

Another week, another search for the right kind of place to do a food review. As usual, we pushed it to Thursday. And to top it off, our day was all over the road, literally, from far east Mesa to far west 75th Avenue. By 1:30pm, the situation grew desperate … not for a place to review (there’s still dinner) but for lunch so we could keep living. We were on 43rd Avenue, about to get back on the 10, when a voice inside said “go into that Salsitas, how bad can it be? Place has been there for a while. And, it’s tacos.”

That voice inside is a F-ing a-hole because lunch, from bite number one, sucked. In between trying to figure out what was crunchy in the al pastor, what was overall wrong with the carne asada, and why that guac goop was on everything, we looked up to see a homeless guy wander in. No big deal. But then, he stands in the middle of the restaurant and starts yelling something that makes no sense whatsoever but is delivered (we gotta hand it to the guy) in a very theatrical tone. Shakespearean almost. Arms waving like a conductor and everything.

Everyone looks up, then looks over to the cop sitting right next to us. Cop looks up, assesses, and goes back to eating his stale chips (we all have them). Homeless guy then heads into the seating area, mumbling the whole time, and sits, of all places, next to the cops. Ballsy, we think. Or oblivious. Whatever, we all continue eating, occasionally looking up to survey.

Cop still here? Check. Crazy guy stable? Check. Food still shitty? Check.

Then, once the cop is done with his lunch, he gets up to return his tray, and you can feel the collective “damn, “ amongst the room. But then Sarg goes back up to register, orders a big fat burrito and a coke, and walks the fresh tray over to the homeless guy. They exchange a few words, and off the cop goes.

Now, let it be known, had the tacos been edible, we might’ve done the same thing, but we half wanted to tell the homeless guy, “dude, go to Chipotle or something.”

Kidding. We felt like applauding. Adding a side. Something! But it made us realize something: over the next two weeks, you’re probably going to get mad that you can’t find a space to park at the mall, or feel overwhelmed from all there is to do, or complain about something that happened at the office Christmas party … Number one, let’s remember that we’ve got it better than the guy who shouts insanities at the Salsitas cashier. Number two, let’s remember to occasionally do a good deed that no one we know sees. The moment you publicize a good deed, it’s cheapened by selfish motive. The best deeds are done without a single person there to say “nice job.” That’s the kind of thing that puts money in the karma bank.

And the kind of thing that makes us realize that even though the tortillas were extremely disappointing, there might be a good deed calling our names, even if you can’t hear it behind the lack of music in a dirty restaurant we would never recommend. Keep your eyes open for the chance to do something good, even if it’s during a battle for space outside Anthropologie.

Anybody who’s Yelped, blogged, or published a story about the new North restaurant at 40^th Street and Camelback Road has talked about the food, the design, the fact that it’s owned by Fox Restaurant Concepts and discussed how this place fits into the oeuvre that is Sauce, Olive & Ivy, Zinburger, Blanco, True Food Kitchen, Greene House, etc. But what they haven’t told you, is how all of the things that make up the new North come to be on a daily basis.

We figured instead of finding out, it’d be fun to make sh*t up. So here, in one very long sentence, is what we believe happens to make this wonderful new restaurant so, well, wonderful.

Every single glorious day, the perfect God-given sun rises and hip, plaid shirted 20-somethings lace up their Converse or slip on their Vans before heading out into the fields to forage for the freshest ingredients possible, while some go fishing for fresh-tasting salmon, and yet others help the chefs in the kitchen make a bevy of pastas in-house daily, but eventually all of this comes together for a menu of food that tastes as farm-to-table as can be, with earthy undertones and combinations that are anything-but-ordinary and the potential pairing with a house wine (which isn’t half bad) served in a small juice glass and not a wine glass, all served on an eclectic collection of plates, with plaid farm-like napkins, in a building that harkens to the shape of a barn but modernized with steel, good lighting, and an overall idyllic vibe, however, choose to sit on the patio and you’re really farm-to-tabling it because you’re on brown gravel that looks like dirt (don’t worry, it doesn’t dust up, so your food is safe) which makes us wonder why anyone would do one of those Outstanding in the Field dinners when you can just go to North any day of the week, where another perfect concept has been executed by those folks over at Fox, so perfect that they train flies to buzz around your table the moment you are done with your meal for a true farm-to-table experience—and notice that those flies never ever touch your food—because like we said, they are trained flies, part of the ambiance, part of the design, part of the perfection that is the new North, and although we didn’t try any, the cocktail menu nods to Italian farmhouse lifestyles with drinks named Bocce, Bella Donna, Old Roma, and five others that will surely win awards and otherwise add to la dolce vita vibe that everyone seems to be living in who works here.

Truth be told, we didn’t make up the stuff about napkins or dishware or gravel or flies (they are trained, the fly said so) but what we can’t make up is what we ate,and how friggin’ good everything really tasted. Honestly, we’d order every single one of these things again, we’d recommend them to friends, and we can’t think of anything we’d recommend changing.

Grilled Calamari – large, easily chewable pieces in a white bean ragu punched up with lemon zest. It’s refreshing and a perfect way to begin your meal.

Crispy Pork Belly – one huge piece that wasn’t all that crispy as the name implied but pulled apart perfectly and had a great ratio of fat to meat. What we really dug was that amidst the strongly flavored lentils, the pork stood on its own, retaining a gentle flavor rarely found in a chunk of pork that large.

Grilled Portabella – thin, delicate slices peeking through a layer of arugula then topped with shaved grana padano. We could eat this dish every day. Every. Damn. Day.

Agriturismo Panini – Like its name, this sandwich will discover whatever veggies are in season. During our visit, the veggie mix focused on eggplant. If we had to choose the weakest part of the meal, this would be it, but only because we had to choose, not because it’s actually weak.

Fall Vegetable Salad – We added a $7 piece of salmon to the $10 salad and while some might feel $17 is outrageous for a salad, the mix of faro, dates, marcona almonds, lettuces, and other veggies in a light white balsamic was another every day dish. If North were across the street from the office, we’d be there everyday for this.

The Burger – Served with grilled onions, roasted tomato, arugula, and ta Brie-like robiola cheese. Check this out: once upon a time, the people at Fox got a little upset that we said the burger at Black Chile (a Mexican restaurant) was better than the burger at Zinburger (a Fox-owned burger restaurant) next door. Well, now, people of Fox, we believe that the burger at North (an Italian restaurant) is better than the burger at The Grind (a burger shop) next door. You can’t win all the time, but you won this one.

Mafaldine Pasta – Of the seven pastas on the menu, we chose this for spicy rock shrimp and mix of shaved fennel, tomato, garlic, chili, basil, and white wine. It all came together beautifully.

Housemade Sausage Pizza – Of the seven pizzas on the menu, we chose this for the sausage. Plain and simple. But the addition of broccolini, roasted peppers, and castelveltrano olives, brought it all together. The mozz was a Bianco doppelganger, with a smokey, mouthwatering flavor, and the edges bubbled up with air, slightly crisping.

One more thing you should know—although this glowing review might read like lunch was paid for by PR, it indeed was not. We ponied up about $120 for said meal, and the stuff really was as good as we said it was. Damnit. We’d like to hate Fox for the mediocrity so many feel he serves up, but this place was a damn joy to eat at. And we’ll be back. Damnit.