The Courtyard of The Town Dump

Following our walk through the interior areas of Cave Creek's (AZ) Town Dump (see yesterday's entry), we ventured into the outdoor "showroom" of this unique store.

Looking in one direction revealed this view of the outdoor selections. I would bet that the owner(s) of the Town Dump ("A wild and crazy store serving the area over 30 years"), have a mental record of the inventory that is about 95% accurate.

A store around that long with unusual items has to have managers who know their customers and their interests. Whimsy notwithstanding, this, after all, is a business.

But back to the tour.

We stepped into a small alcove and were caught, not so much by the beautiful unicorn, but the flock of flamingoes perched securely in the nearby trees.

I would guess that the owner(s) couldn't care less whether I laughed, looked puzzled, or just shook my head and walked away. They were having fun.

For the recocrd, I laughed. I think I was beginning to see the humor that was behind the merchandise.

I have no idea who or what these figures represented. To me, I saw them as the chorus in a Greek drama that was on stage to comment on the events transpiring around them.

I found myself changing my reaction to the Dump from one of "What would I do with this?" to "This is a fun place to visit."

I can't imagine who would purchase this totem pole or where it would be displayed, but my reaction was to study this work and then move on with an increased interest in what other treasures I might come across as I made my way around the courtyard.

Once again, after pondering the usefulness of a coat of armor, I became interested in the figure on the right. There was a resemblance to Groucho Marx in the facial features.

I don't know if the clothes or the face were for sale, but once again, my mood was lifted, and I continued my search.

I also began paying more attention to the colors of the walls and doors. In the photos above and on the right, just the colors of the walls without any items in the area made striking photographs.

I found my approach to the Town Dump changing again as I made my way around the yard. I had moved beyond seeing the items for sale as more than simply fun; I found myself saying: "I could see this in the right setting" or "We could use this if we were back home."

I could see this sunburst hanging on our garage. Honest.

There were many iron benches, chairs, and tables from which to choose an arrangement for a patio.

I was really getting into the mindset of the owners (at least, my interpretation of it).

But it was this pepper that completely convinced me that this store was the answer to "What can I get for the special person in my life?"

Our anniversary is coming up, so this metal mega pepper might be just the thing for our restaurant reviewer. . . .

But until then, this colorful little jar, currently being used as a salt cellar on our RV's counter, will have to suffice.

It was tough to leave The Town Dump, but it was time for lunch. Would it be The Horny Toad, The Buffalo Chip Saloon, or Big Earl's Greasy Eats? Remember this is Cave Creek, AZ.

In a Word . . . Well, . . . Colorful

In yesterday's entry, we thought that the words "fun" and "funky" would describe our introduction to Cave Creek, AZ.

But when we found our way into "one of the world's most unusual stores," we realized those words were not enough to do justice to the visual impact upon walking into The Town Dump. A quick look around the store is not possible--the effect is similar to eating ice cream too quickly. Trying to rapidly focus on the multitude of unusual items can cause brain freeze.

Just inside the door is a sign stating that the management does not haggle over the prices. After looking at some of the price tags, I think the sign's message might be: "We know the stuff is overpriced, but that makes up for the work we have to do to climb over stuff to pick out what you want."

Now to describe this unique store one might use the phrase "exotic furnishings for the discerning interior designer," . . . but I don't think I would.

But, this ceramic piece in the shape of an animal's skull (above) or this ceramic monkey (right) would certainly qualify for being described as "exotic"--and a bit dusty.

As we walked around items in the faily large, overly-filled room, we found ourselves frequently asking: "Just where would one put this?"

For instance, this large jar appears to have a woman with wings wielding a sword, so where would one place this creation in a home? Our only idea was to have canes and crutches placed in it by the front door. For $359, it would have to have a place of prominence in someone's home, and the owner would also have to have a story that would fit the sword-wielding woman and the crutches.

This ceramic sun--at least that's my guess as to what this piece represents--seemed to capture the one word that we used to describe The Town Dump.

That word would be "colorful."

Then we saw the items on this shelf. We don't know if there is a method to the "arrangement" of items around the store, but the laughing mask next to these bird-like creatures seemed an appropriate placement.

In one of the small rooms off the main showroom, we found this display of pots. Of almost equal interest were the walls. It appeared as though a food processor had been filled with raspberries and then set to "Puree" without the lid being put in place.

The adjacent rooms shows the same "raspberry sprayed" walls.

We could not rush through any of the rooms we had seen so far. When I reached the back door, I took a look outside. What greeted me were sights that made me realize we had only scratched the surface of the Dump's treasures.

Join us tomorrow as we tour the outdoor spaces.

A Touch of the Old West

We left the town of Carefree, AZ (see yesterday's entry) and its Nail Spas, Easy Street Acupuncture, and Binkley's gourmet dining businesses and headed across a line in Cave Creek Road and into another world--the town of Cave Creek.

Cave Creek can trace its history back 100 years, but Hohokam Indians, the original inhabitants of these hills, occupied the land from about 800 A.D. until 1400 A.D. and then disappeared.

The Tonto Apaches then controlled this area until gold was discovered in 1863 in central Arizona. As prospectors explored farther into their area, the Tontos resisted their efforts of expansion and also raided their mining camps.

To combat these raiders, the US Army established Fort McDowell, on the west bank of the Verde River in 1865. The actual Town of Cave Creek can trace its beginnings to the Army’s decision.

In 1874 William Rowe's discovery of gold began a rush to the area. By 1877, Jeriah Wood, a young cattleman from Missouri, established a ranch called Cave Creek Station.

Frontier Town provides a glimpse of the Old West, at least when walking past the storefronts. The shop we wandered into was selling Dirt Shirts. The story goes that a 1992 hurricane hit the Hawaiian Island of Kauai and damaged a company that printed designs on white tee shirts. Several shirts were drenched and stained with red dirt blown in by the storm. Instead of throwing out the shirts, the company dried the shirts and then printed designs on them.

The dyeing process has been refined to the point that these Red Dirt Shirts have "the soft feel of velvet and the rich color of fine cognac."

Yes, we have one.

Continuing our walk downtown, we passed this store, the Black Mountain Feed Store. With the cactus along the main road, the feed store seemed to fit the location.

And this was the same with the Pink Cadillac Boutique and Clothing Exchange--it seemed to fit here. Nevermind that I have no idea what the pink cadillac has to do with a boutique, the clothes rack along the road didn't warrant a second questioning look.

When owner Debbie Lebsock purchased a vintage school bus to bring the latest funky designer fashions to customers' homes for parties, the Pink Cadillace Boutique on wheels added another unique touch to the town of nearly 4000. A sense of the personality of Cave Creek was becoming evident.

So when we came upon the town's bike shop with bikes parked out front and others hanging above the shop's porch, we could have guessed the name. The "Flat Tire Bike Shop"--perfect.

And the unexpected greeted us when we entered the Blue Coyote Gallery. Instead of funky art, we had an opportunity see some regional contemporary and early Twentieth Century fine art and Native American art. Another surprise.

But this was nothing compared to what we experienced at the Town Dump.

Down Carefree Highway

Near the northern boundary of the city of Phoenix, head east from I-17 on Carefree Highway to Tom Darlington Road and then north to Carefree, AZ.

On the outskirts of this town of just under 4000 are homes that are built into the hillsides. There were several dirt pullovers along Darlington Road that provided the opportunity to photograph these million dollar homes.

I really liked this home (right), because I thought it almost became part of the surrounding environment of the desert hillside.

In 1955, K.T. Palmer and Tom Darlington bought 2,200 acres with the idea of planning and building a town from scratch and at the same time committing themselves to preserving the natural beauty of the desert.

Carefree was incorporated in 1984, and through zoning regulations, restrictions, and building requirements, several generations have insured that the area will remain as it always has been, with its beautiful vegetated desert.

Even though there is little color in the desert plants in winter, we were able to find this purple prickly pear cactus (above) and this colorful shrub along the highway leading into Carefree.

We found this agave cactus among other desert plants in Sundial Park in Carefree. In the far left side of the photo is a coyote sculpture.

This fountain in the park has the appearance of a waterfall and allows visitors to walk under the water as it is sprayed out of the wall into the pool.

At the center of the park is this sundial, which, according to some, is the largest sundial in the United States. The metal gnomon, or shadow casting portion of the dial, stands 35 feet above the plaza and extends 62 feet.

Solar engineer John Yellot and architect Joe Wong designed the sundial for K.T. Palmer in 1959.

Palmer and Darlington revealed touches of whimsy when it came to naming the streets to suggest leisurely living and a life-style "free of care." This is a view of the city center (above) along Easy Street across from Sundial Park.

The gate to the Spanish Village is the entrance to several shops, galleries, and restaurants that reflect the Southwestern architecture.

There is an almost casual layout to the town. Streets curve and wind around parks, shops, and civic buildings. At the intersection of Ho and Hum Roads, with Black Mountain in the background, is Big Buns Bakery. We had hoped to sample their sweet rolls, sticky buns, or muffins. However, the day we stopped in was the first day Big Buns was open after a week's vacation--and they were already out of our three choices. So, we had to "settle" for scones.

Well, had we known that these were "I-wish-I-had-bought-a-dozen-of-these" scones, we would not have felt we were having to "settle" for scones. We chose four (clockwise, from the upper left corner: dried apricot-ginger, blueberry, raspberry, and pecan) and took a few bites of one as we walked back to the truck.

And so, as we passed Nonchalant Avenue and Tranquil Trail, our late morning appetite satisfied, we left Carefree and the New West and headed north on Cave Creek Road to the Old West town of the same name.

Do You Ever Get a Craving . . .

for a particular food? For us, it has been a craving for hot pastrami on pumpernickel with chopped chicken liver pate and sliced onion. Add a half-sour pickle on the side and I am in deli delight.

One of our first tasks was to find the best Jewish deli in Phoenix. I thought we were on to something when I found information on Scott’s Generations, named the 2008 Best Jewish Deli by the Phoenix New Times. In particular, one reviewer raved about the creamy chopped liver.

“The Snyder family came to the valley in 1988, with the vision of bringing a piece of the Big Apple with them. Six short months later, Scott’s Generations was born. Since June of 1989, Gene and Scott Snyder (father and son) have been serving the valley authentic New York, kosher style deli cuisine. From homemade soups, salads, knishes, meats, and cheesecake to East Coast smoked fish specialties flown in weekly. “ (From the restaurants web site.)

A recent visit proved that even New Times can be wrong. We decided to share one hot pastrami with chicken liver and onion sandwich and one order of potato pancakes. Both items were disappointing. My ideal potato pancake is made from coarsely grated potatoes mixed with egg, flour or matzo meal, and a little grated onion. Fried in oil, a great potato pancake should have a crisp exterior – especially the lacey edges – and a softer, but not mushy, interior.

These reminded both of us of the potato pancakes our mothers made from leftover mashed potatoes. Only slightly crisp with a smooth and soft interior, they had little flavor. And the side of applesauce was of a mediocre commercial variety.

The sandwich was no more satisfying. Yes, I usually prefer lean meat. But pastrami is the one exception to that rule. Without some residual fat to render and moisten the meat, pastrami can be a dry and unappetizing meat. So was the case with Scott’s pastrami. And, while pastrami is a smoked meat, the smoke flavor is usually so understated to be undetectable. This meat reeked of smoke. And, yes, the chopped liver was creamy, but it also had an overly pronounced livery taste. Yuk.

We also ordered a side of fries which turned out to be thick cut crinkle fries and which also weren’t all that great. I am not a fan of thick fries and these did nothing to change my mind.

We were not impressed, and we were not satisfied; Scott’s Generations only merits a 2.0 Addie rating.

So not being thrilled with Scott’s Generations, the search continued. Fortunately, after a further review of the 2008 New Times Best of Phoenix, we learned a local mini-chain (three locations) was deemed to have the best hot pastrami. The Miracle Mile Deli on Camelback in Phoenix became our next dining stop.

While Scott’s had an old fashioned (and somewhat dingy) dining area, Miracle Mile was a bright cavernous room, too brightly lit with fluorescent fixtures. Here, the menu is posted above a cafeteria-style line, and it was so busy that day that dithering to study the various offerings was not an option. So we duplicated exactly our lunch at Scott’s.

What can I say? This is hot pastrami. It was tender, thinly sliced, moist and juicy, and had just enough pepper and seasonings. And no heavy smoked taste. And the moist and creamy chicken liver had been mixed with finely chopped egg. This sandwich could compete with Ben & Irv’s in Southampton, PA.

The potato pancakes were an improvement, but were still not perfect. They had the texture of grated potatoes and had a crisp outer crust, but still lacked the really crisp edges that are my favorite part of a good potato pancake. And I couldn’t detect any taste of grated onion which made them a little bland.

But the accompanying apple sauce may have been one of the best apple sauces ever. Full of quarter inch chunks of apple that retained some texture, the apple taste was not overwhelmed by either sugar or cinnamon.

The Miracle Mile is not a perfect deli, but the sandwich did assuage our deli craving and earns a 4.0 Addie rating. Oh, by the way. Both sandwiches came with great half-sour pickles. Since Chuck doesn’t eat pickles, they were all for me.

What Is It . . .

about a great sandwich? Why does encasing meat, cheese, or veggies between two slices of bread result in the perfect meal? What isn’t better when part of a sandwich? (O.K., if you answered chitterlings, I’ll give you that.)

Last spring, still harboring resentment about our three-hour wait at Pizzeria Bianco, we passed on eating at Pizzeria Bianco’s sister restaurant – Pane Bianco (both restaurants are owned by Chris Bianco). What a mistake. This low-key sandwich shop is the antithesis of Pizzeria Bianco. Located in a nondescript series of shops on Central Avenue in Phoenix, Pane Bianco lacks any indoor seating. If you are not taking lunch out, you take a seat at one of the outdoor picnic tables and watch the light rail trains.

When you go inside to place your order, you notice that three-quarters of the space is taken by the kitchen. This space is dominated by a large wood-burning oven, which is used for baking the focaccia that forms the base for all four sandwiches. The bread comes hot from the oven, sometimes with a bit of char on the edges, and is immediately made into one of the aforementioned four sandwiches.

The menu? The menu consists of four sandwiches (three regulars and the market sandwich of the day) and three salads. Your choice of sandwiches are: tuna with red onion, olives, lemon, and arugula; soppressata with aged provolone and roasted red peppers; fresh housemade mozzarella with tomatoes and basil; and the market sandwich. That day the market sandwich was breseola (dried Italian beef) with black pepper rustico cheese and arugula. Our choices were the market sandwich and the mozzarella/tomato/basil.

Where to start? Let’s start with the bread – the foundation for any great sandwich. Each sandwich came on a bread round about six inches in diameter. While described as focaccia, this was much thinner than the focaccia with which I am familiar. I would describe it as a cross between a pita and focaccia. The top was brushed with oil which resulted in a crisp and crunchy crust.

Both sandwiches were equally delicious, and I would be hard pressed to indicate a preference. As I have frequently mentioned, the combination of tomato and basil is one of my favorites. When I unwrapped the sandwich, my senses were immediately inundated by the smell of fresh basil. (I don’t know why the makers of scented candles haven’t come out with a basil candle. Enough with the apple pie, vanilla, etc.) The bread, still hot from the oven, just lightly melted the mozzarella cheese and warmed the basil. The juicy tomatoes were both sweet and tart. This sandwich was the equivalent of a margherita pizza on a roll.

We knew we would like the mozzarella/tomato/basil sandwich, but we were surprised at how much we enjoyed the breseola/rustico cheese/arugula sandwich. Again, the hot bread began to soften the cheese and brought out the peppery flavor. I’d like to know Chris Bianco’s produce purveyor so that I could find baby arugula like that on our sandwich. The mildly peppery greens, along with the peppery cheese, when paired with the thin sliced air dried beef had both of us making audible sounds of sandwich eating delight.

Pane Bianco’s mozzarella/tomato/basil sandwich was named one of the twenty-three best sandwiches by Phoenix Magazine. Granted, Pane Bianco has zero atmosphere, but it has one hundred percent great food at what we consider reasonable prices ($8.00 to $9.00) and earns a 5.0 Addie score.