Adela’s Favorite Restaurants

This morning, I awoke hungry. But, I am often hungry, so this is nothing new. The best way to get me to go some place is to offer me a meal. Why else do you think so many churches offer coffee and donuts after their services?

Long, long ago I was born. Yes, there were cars. No. They did not need to be cranked up to start. The hospital I was born in was Phoenix General Hospital, located at 19 Ave. and Indian School Rd, in Phoenix, Arizona. Late in the last century, it was torn down and replaced by a strip mall.

By sheer irony, the place I have found the best prime rib is not at a Vegas buffet, but at this location. The restaurant: My Mother’s. Not, MY mother. Most likely someone’s mother. But, I have no relation to the restaurant, whatsoever. Except as someone who enjoys good food.

It’s has an old fashioned ambiance, plays crooner music, and everything on the menu is absolutely delicious. Mr. Greene always insists on the especially large Grandfather’s cut of prime rib — grilled. He thinks it’s nearly as good as the prime rib I make, and I don’t have to heat up the house to make it in the summer. Lasagna, pot roast, open faced turkey sandwiches, pizza, huge loaves of my favorite bread they won’t give me the recipe for, and exquisite cream pies.

My Mother's Restaurant

When we lived within the restaurant’s delivery boundaries, we never had to leave the house to go out for a special meal. They even managed to deliver that prime rib.

Now, as I go onto my second favorite restaurant, I will tell you a short story.

Don Jose's 36th Street and Thomas Rd.

A few years ago, I got into a fight with a good friend. To console myself, my plan was to grab some chips and hot sauce from Don Jose’s Mexican Restaurant (located about 36 street and Indian School Rd.). When I saw the fence around it and the For Lease sign, I promptly burst into tears. Then, had to pull to the side of the road to keep from crashing into oncoming traffic, who wouldn’t have been as understanding.

Here it is, three years later, and the restaurant is re-opened. The food tastes the same. The prices are no different. They still play K0Y radio. Even the booth are still slightly awkward to sit in. But, it’s worth it to have enchiladas, chimichangas, huevos rancheros, or much of the usual Tex-Mex flavor that isn’t fancy, experimental, or costs more than prime rib.

It was one of my daddy’s favorite restaurants when he lived in the neighborhood, in 1967, and has become a place my children enjoy, as well. Although, for the life of me, I cannot understand why my daughter still insists on ordering a hamburger and fries in a Mexican restaurant.

While I drool over the thought, I will now just deal with trying to make some caramel coffee. It’s not as good as a chimi or a steak, but maybe if I close my eyes, I can pretend it’s a pie from My Mother’s Restaurant.

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