Ignore my gordo-ness (this was a year ago when I was at my heaviest). Also ignore the awful hair day and the lazy eye (allergies). Other than that, jab away!!!

On with the show!

Loving it:

Quiessence's barrel-aged cocktails.

Killer cocktails at Quiessence. Why do I love them so much? Maybe because helped put them together. Kick-ass cocktail consultant Bill Degroot made my dreams come true with his Farmhouse Cocktails and his 90-day aged Manhattans.

Yep. Barrel-aged cocktails are the shit. Huge thanks to Bill!

New restaurant openings: A few new spots that pique my interest: Jimmy Woo’s, Amaro Pizzeria & Vino Lounge and Vitamin T.

Nobuo-san, making my dreams come true with his omakase.

The return of adventurous dining: Thank god we’re getting over the “safety food” phase. Don’t get me wrong, “comfort food” will always have a place in our regular rotation (for obvious reasons), but dumbed down eats are just plain boring and over. Thanks to the food gods for bringing back spots like Nobuo At Teeter House and his omakase experience that made me quiver during my back-to-back visits within 7 days (reviewed here by local food blog god Dominic).

I’ve had the pork sweats before, but never the seafood sweats. ‘Nough said.

Luke warm about it:

Food trucks. Yep, I’m that asshole. Yet . . . I’m the biggest fan of the concept. So since I want to see this grow to greatness, I won’t name names. But event the ones I do like, I know you’ll keep getting better (I hope)!

My POV: Either do great food truck-y street eats, or do something chef driven and gourmet. No middle road. Drop the gimmicky menus and deliver, or simply feed me.

Let it die:

Bruschetta. I understand the market for it. You wanna feed the bottom feeders and hungry masses. (which often  includes me too!!!) Let’s all just own that truth and live with the shame. I sounded like Dr. Phil there for a moment.

Burger bonanza. Shut up with your crazy gourmet burgers made with wine, truffles and fired by coal, junk yard tires or cosmic nuclear energy. Quit it.

Annoying advertisers. Completely unrelated to this post, but god dammit quit calling me with every “hot new restaurant directory.”

Always end on a happy note:

Recent things/people I love: You make my life so awesome. I raise my glass of cheap wine (from Tops Liquor) to you! @olllllo, Luxardo, @TheWildLavender, “That waving-paper-thin-fish-pie thingy” (Okonomiyaki, as described by Lisa Polacheck), @StacyPearson, Carlyn Mumm, Rivers Cuomo Fancy Pants III, The Grits at @BeckettsTable, Crystal Light and of course . . .

Judge Judy. May your justice continue to lord over us all.

I pledge allegiance to the grits. And justice.

Moment of honesty: Quiessence and Nobuo are clients of mine, but c’mon . . . But you already know they rock and everything I say about them is totally blog worthy. That’s why I work with them.

Our new Chief of Hospitality & Tourism, Nikki Buchanan is on her way back from a well deserved vacation in California.

Our new PR Overlord, Stacy Pearson just wrapped up her Sunday here at Rivers & Leaves Media Up Agency HQ.

Over the past few days, we’ve all been knee-deep in client work while planning an extensive comm plan for this announcement thing.

Honestly, this is the first time I’ve invested serious effort in my own business development since I opened Rivers & Leaves in 2008. All of my success is based on word of mouth (thanks to many friends/clients in the industry).

Hell. I didn’t have a business card until May of 2010. Never bothered with a logo. Nope, no web presence to speak of.

We were a faceless/nameless ghost for almost 3 years. When cold calls came in to the office, the first thing I would say was “Congrats for managing to get in touch with us, we’re notoriously difficult to reach!”

It was true.

I spent all my time building business for clients and no time on myself.

But now it’s bigger than me. Bigger than Rivers & Leaves.

Now it’s we. Team Up.

But, any modicum of success I’ve had in the past has always been due to the company I kept…

Ben McFadden, my programmer and web developer extraordinaire has been with me for 7 years. As a freshman in high school, he was one of my first interns. He was my Padawan who quickly exceeded the Jedi Master. When I moved to the software industry and needed a seasoned expert, he was my first pick (he was a senior in HS then). After jumping the silicon ship, I asked Ben to jump with me one more time.

He did. And here we are. He’s still with me and I owe him so much.

Then came John. And then went John. And then he came again. Just when I needed him the most, he was there. Personal assistant, savior, salsa dancer… what title hasn’t he earned? Somehow you put up with my craziness. Tolerated my insane ideas. And filtered my raw creativity into effective communications. You’ve been awesome, despite the nauseating McDonald’s bags in the office. You are praised, and forgiven.

Luke, the only thing that could top having a communication Ph.D. and professor at my side is having a best friend by my side. Late night cigarettes and vodka have fueled many creative sessions over the years. Your endless encouragement kept me going during those 90-hour work weeks.

Adam. We still miss you, but you’ve certainly earned Honored Emeritus status. Especially when you strolled into the office today with a loaded serving tray to announce “I made fresh popovers for you two.” Stacy practically shit her pants in admiration when you walked up to the door with a plate of steamy baked goods, honey and butter. Rockstar.

And now the future…

Nikki, we’ve had a hell of a lot of fun these past few years. It’s only just begun. Thanks for taking a leap of faith with me and starting a new adventure together.

Stacy, “fresh popovers” is our version of “look at the Earth!” (an inside joke that I’m ironically not inside, but privy to).

But why look down at the Earth when we can look Up?

Flash forward to 6:09 a.m. today…

During my brainstorming session this morning (a.k.a. the shower), I realized I forgot to say thanks to the folks who made this all possible and will continue to make it possible in the future!

I’m sooooo fortunate to have a primo list of clients who trust me. Thanks for letting me help shape your businesses, products and services. Thanks for hearing out those doodles-on-bar-napkin ideas and trusting me to pull them off.

A statewide culinary event. A restaurant that let’s folks “come together.” A giant wine festival on a farm. “You Can Still Do Your Laundry Here Because I Love You” cookie collections. A talking/flying dog. Foursqaure mayors with true mayoral duties.

We’ll never run out of ideas. Promise.

People think it’s easy to partner with the best brands who already have great stories to tell to the public. I think it’s the opposite.

Working with the best means we have to be on our toes and kicking ass 24/7.

Thanks for partnering Up.

Nope, never made it to San Francisco this spring. The work schedule chained me to Arizona.

But… I’ll be in New York City in July for a James Beard Dinner. So lets hear ‘em… what are your picks for NYC dining.

Build my food itinerary for the Big Apple.

Ready…. GO!

On the caloric chopping block: my beloved cocktails. (By the way… I’ve always wanted to write “my beloved cocktails”)

Does anyone have experience with cutting out the sugar while keeping the booze? How does Splenda work in a drink? Awful? Good?

Do you have a favorite low-cal cocktail?

C’mon. Let’s work together on my waistline and still support my alcoholism.

My modest attempts to prepare traditional dishes at home are now moot since El Coquito does it so well. The affordable mom-n-pop joint offers all the favorites, earning a loyal following of transplanted New York Puerto Rican families and wannabe borincanos like myself.

Important: This is a BYOB spot. You must prepare accordingly.

If you’re a true foodie, you already carry a stylish “Rum Purse,” pictured above. Any brown paper bag will do. Simply stock it with your favorite bottles of rum and carry it anywhere you go. The Rum Purse guarantees instant popularity in any situation, especially at a Puerto Rican restaurant that serves a signature “virgin” coconut cocktail (The Coquito) that begs to be bathed in liquor.

If you’re lucky (like we were), the server will have a freshly inked tattoo exposed on her back. The sight of an exposed open wound might be a bit much, but trust me, the food is worth the damage to your eyes.

Once your rods and cones have recovered, you’re in for a regional treat. One could munch on the appetizers of plantains, cod fritters and pastelillos (empanadas) alone. But then you’d miss out on family favorites including roast pork (my fave), marinated steak strips and pollo guisado. Pick your choice of rice plus pigeon peas, pink beans or black beans.

As for customers, an abundance of Puerto Ricans and gays is a good sign. In my most recent visit, it was pure coincidence that most our table of six just happened to be food-loving gay men. Mid-meal, another gay couple sat at the table next to us. (One shall be designated as “The Jackpot”) Then, several Puerto Rican families rotated through the restaurant throughout the night.

What does this all mean? My new gay buddies love good food… and real Puerto Ricans love this place. A sweet mix.

NOTE: The “Jackpot” guy in the image above hit the demographic trifecta: Gay, Puerto Rican and he was celebrating his birthday at El Coquito. What more evidence do you need to be convinced this place has it goin’ on?

DO: Order the Coquito virgin cocktail and spice it up with the contents of your “Rum Purse.”

DON’T: Let the sometimes slow service distract you from the worthwhile food. It’s really that good.

DO: Mention that you love the Yankees! The owners are Puerto Rican NY’rs love the Yankees.

DON’T: Utter the word “Mets.”

DO: Take a moment to peek in the window of Bennies Back Alley Barbershop next door. It’s the Taj Mahal of Marilyn Monroe memorabilia. (very bizarre)

DO: Visit El Coquito often. Just ignore the Lisa Frank tattoos.

-Your food pal, JxP

El Coquito
http://www.elcoquito.net
480-947-0680

I love food. Always have. I cook. I eat & drink. I comment about food. It’s not work, it’s a lifestyle. And a chaotic one, at that.

My day job?

I get to talk about great food to as many people as possible. My boutique media firm helps generate buzz about Arizona’s best food, drink and dining spots. We provide media relations & marketing for local businesses.

“But Ty… you can’t write a food blog AND represent restaurants AND tweet praise/criticism on other restaurants…. all at the same time.”

Bullshit.

My life has always revolved around food (and music.) In fact, my clients depend on it. I love to talk about food both on and off the clock. However, when I tweet or blog, I openly disclose any business relationships.

I’m not a journalist. I’m certainly not a food critic. My blogs and tweets are packed full of typos. (Plus, with tweets like “cocktail abortion & eatin’ dress,” I’ve pretty much closed any doors to journalism opportunities.)

So anyone you see taking cheap shots at me is doing it from ten steps behind me. Yep. I’m talking to the petty PR fossils, attention desperate has-beens, and anyone else with conflict of interest issues. Those are your issues, not mine.

Have fun playing catch up.

I hope someday you’ll find what makes you happy.

When life gives you shitty rainy weather… shake up a Dark ‘n Stormy, I say!

Looking outside tonight, my booze hoarding has prepared me for anything Mother Nature has to throw at us in these end of days. I’ve stocked the bar with assorted rum as if the Armageddon is just around the corner.

If you see a zonked out, asiany-looking guy floating down University Drive, please be kind.

Throw him a lime wedge.

Make a Dark n’ Stormy:

Shake 1.5oz Cruzan gold rum with .75oz  lime juice.
Strain into Collins glass.
Top with ginger beer and give a gentle stir.
(Reed’s is best, in my opinion)
Float .75 Cruzan Black Strap rum on top.

It’s no big news that folks are getting more savvy to monitoring their brands on social media. Even the little guys.

On a recent food-binge Sunday (Metro, The Mission, Caffe Boa, Classic Italian, Caffe Boa again,) we chose Classic Italian Pizza for dinner. As usual, I checked in via Brightkite (which updates both my Twitter and Facebook statuses.) I happily tweeted praises and photos of our perfect pies.

Halfway through the meal, a young waitress stops by our table and asks, “Which one of you is Ty?”

I sulk in my seat and slowly raise my hand.

She smiles and explains that the owner was monitoring my activity from home. He called and asked her to find out who I was. Yikes!

Another example: This past weekend, I was downtown at Hanny’s during another binge night (Hanny’s, The District, and St. Francis.) I checked in with Brightkite and ordered a classic Sidecar.

The drink earned my signature and dreaded “Cocktail Abortion” tweet (too much Cointreau turned it into a froo froo sweetsie drink.) It’s a nasty tweet, I know.

Disclaimer: Here’s where I speculate… but my observations were confirmed by my cocktailing friend.

A few minutes after the tweet, we saw the server and bar staff pointing our direction and talking. Sure enough, the server appears minutes later with two new cocktails for us.

His explanation was awkward as he nervously set down the glasses. He claimed that the bar mistakenly made extra drinks of our exact order. No charge.

We thanked him and he walked back to join the bar staff as they watched us drink the reattempted offerings.

Coincidence? Or maybe I was just over-sensitive from my recent “outing” at Classic Italian. I’ll never know because I didn’t ask. I was pretty freaked.

Regardless, I’ve prepared myself for future incidents resulting from my public eating & tweeting. I’ll be ready to stand by my comments. I’m sure as hell not a journalist, but it’s probably a good idea for me to establish ethics and rules of engagement with businesses, owners, etc.

I’ll be ready next time. Bring it on.

Do you have a similar story?

P.S. Jay W., I know you stalk me too.

Grandpa Gipson and me

Despite the title, I’m not fishing for sympathy. It was a tough day for many reasons so I just thought I’d share a nice memory about him.

When I was a little kid, he came to live with our family in Glendale for a short while. With a plan to stay for a few months, he parked his tiny trailer in our back yard. (Very cool.)

One afternoon, I was in my room practicing my sax. He knocked on the door and asked to sit in. As a shy kid, my music was usually a very private thing.

But I couldn’t say no.

He sat next to me and tapped his foot to the jazzy standards I was noodling around with. I played my goofy amateur heart out. I faked a little here and there, but I did it with conviction. He loved it.

As an adult, I don’t “blow the notes” frequently enough and I regret not playing for him since those early years. He often asked, “When are you gonna bring your sax and play for me again?”

The Lesson: Never stop playing.

Ever.