When a place tries to be good lots of different things, it runs the risk of not doing any of them particularly well. It’s no accident that many of the world’s best restaurants have very small menus and deliberate styles of service. But is the attempt to do many things always a red flag? What if those differences go far beyond just a menu? I was introduced to a place that gave its own unique answer to that. I’ll tell you what it offered, and whether it was successful . . . at Mile 135.

When it comes to the coffee shop experience, what matters most? Is it the location? The seating? The service? Or the coffee itself? And when the story of a place starts out rocky and less than pleasant, can it still have a happy ending? I found myself asking exactly that, and I’ll tell you how the story did end . . . at Mile 135.

A hidden door. A secret menu. A retro setting with hints of modern flair. A new twist on classic cocktails. What am I talking about? Oh, it's a secret. But if you find the hidden door, you might just discover something awesome . . . at Mile 135.

Is it possible for a restaurant to undersell itself too much? We’ve all seen the opposite – restaurants promising food that will blow your head off, then delivering a meal that at best gives your forehead a light tap. But it feels a lot more rare to encounter a place that only gives you a glimpse of what they can do, saving the real show until you actually get there and experience it. In fact, it’s rare enough that I never really thought about how rare it is until I wrote this review. So, what exactly happened, and how did it lead to an incredibly fun meal? I’ve got all the details . . . at Mile 135.

It feels like whoever built Bovaconti looked at these old world streets and said, “You know, in 20 years, all this will be more modern, so why not start now?” Like the place wants to stake its claim on the new style that will inevitably get here. It’s like someone plucked it out of modern Scottsdale or San Diego and dropped it on a steel town in the late 40s. And yet, when you look closer, there’s more to the styling of this place than just “hip new coffee shop.”

I’ll tell you more of what I mean at Mile 135.

When you hear about a restaurant under unusual circumstances, it feels like a bit of a gamble. You take a chance, and find yourself either pleasantly surprised or wishing you’d just gotten takeout. Either way, though, hopefully you come away with a good story. That’s the chance I took with Corner 17, and I did get a great story out of it. But what do I mean by that? I’ll tell you the whole story . . . at Mile 135.

A coffee shop that rewards exploration? Where would you find that kind of place, and what does that really mean? It’s mostly unassuming when you first walk in - just a coffee counter and a side area with a row of tables. But, it turns out, that’s only at first glance. 

I'll tell you all about it at Mile 135.

Most restaurants are . . . pretty standard. You look at the place, and the menu, get an idea what it has to offer, and typically that’s what you get. What you expected. Not bad, just . . . standard. Then there are restaurants that SET the standard, or even redefine it. The restaurants that other places of their kind should aspire to be like. So, which one did I find in Scottsdale, AZ - the standard, or the standard-setter?

I’ll tell you all about it at Mile 135.