Yogurtini

There's a great Seinfeld episode called, "The Non-Fat Yogurt." In the show, Kramer invests in a frozen yogurt shop, and the characters all start eating there regularly. Despite the claims that the yogurt is non-fat, the characters begin to gain weight. When lab tests are performed, the yogurt involved turns out to be full of fat, and of course even a fat-free product can be loaded with calories. Somehow, the typically convoluted episode also mixes in the New York mayoral race and Jerry's use of profanity in one of his stand-up routines. In contrast, this review will be apolitical and not contain any of George Carlin's "seven words you can never say on television." Instead, let's just focus on frozen yogurt, specifically Yogurtini, which brings the current froyo trend to the Cornerstone development, diagonally across the street from the University / Rural light rail station.

In a way, the fictional experience of Jerry, Elaine, George, and Kramer seems to be mirroring what's going on with the trend of frozen yogurt shops seemingly opening everywhere at once. All of these places claim to offer a tasty product with various health benefits, but actual results vary in practice. What's distinguishes today's wave of froyo from the earlier yogurt trend of the '80s is that after frozen yogurt became so sweet and adulterated that it was barely recognizable as yogurt, the trend has now moved back toward to a frozen dessert with an actual tart yogurt flavor. Combine that taste with a self-service, pay-by-weight business model and it's easy to see the trend that Yogurtini is part of. It doesn't hurt to have contemporary, minimalistic pastel decor either.

Yogurtini's name is indicative of its approach. The customers has the opportunity to take creatively flavored yogurts and augment them with a comprehensive array of fanciful toppings to come up with one's own personal frozen yogurt cocktail. It's all in the assembly-line formula replicated now at dozens of yogurts joints. The first step is to assess the day's spectrum of flavors. The first one is always the house tart. Every place has one of these now, but Yogurtini's seems to have a more impressive yogurt tang that the average tart froyo. Paired with fresh fruit toppings like kiwi, blueberries, or strawberries, it's a simple, straightforward, and appealing choice. There's always a second tart flavor available. Recently, it has been a combination of peach and mango, with notes of both fruits discernible. Free sample cups are available at the counter for anyone needing a taste before deciding.

Moving down the line, there are about half a dozen sweeter yogurts. Flavors like dulce de leche, red velvet, and cherry cordial all have a rich taste and mouth-feel. They're ideally suited for those who seek a yogurt product with a more pudding-like appeal, although they're identified as having the same active cultures as the tarter flavors. The peanut butter yogurt is a smooth treat; pair it with toppings like shredded coconut and sriracha, the infamous "rooster" hot sauce, for a powerful blend of tastes vaguely reminiscent of the peanut sauces and penang curries of southeast Asian cuisines. For added crunch, additional topping choices include nuts, oreos, granola, and Pebbles cereal in both Fruity and Cocoa varieties.

At the end of the line are the sugar-free yogurts and a sorbet offerings. This is the part of the line meant for those who want to avoid something, whether it's sugar or dairy. One nutritional point to keep in mind is that despite all the potential benefits of active cultures, minimal fat, and, in some cases, sugar alternatives, Yogurtini makes no pledge that all ingredients are natural. To be fair, that's standard for the frozen yogurt sector, which often relies on lengthy ingredient lists to manipulate yogurt into a soft-serve product in myriad flavors, all with the same malleable form. While the froyo flavors have a genuineness to their taste, the sorbets are not always as convincing. Customers seeking intense fruit taste might be better off pairing the original tart yogurt with generous scoops of fruit toppings.

The seating is both indoor and outdoor, and large windows keep in the interior illuminated with natural light. There's free wifi, too, and those always connected can often take advantage of deals announced via Twitter and Facebook. Right now, Yogurtini is a single location near the ASU campus, but the Web site announces ambitious expansion plans around the metro area and pitches franchising opportunities. In other words, there's a concept behind this shop waiting to be replicated in multiple locations if the public's sometimes fickle tastes and the difficult economy cooperate. Amazingly enough, we're only a few years away from the first freshman class at nearby ASU that will not have grown up with Seinfeld. If Yogurtini sticks around, at least the new students will have an opportunity to indulge in the characters' beloved frozen yogurt.

725 S. Rural Rd., Tempe AZ 85281 | Map
(480) 264-6805
http://www.yogurtini.com

Sushi 101

Sushi seems to be one of the most polarizing foods around. Some people genuinely love it, some people eat it because they think it's cool to do so, and others find the idea of uncooked fish repulsive. Even among those who enjoy sushi, there are still factions. At one end are fans of various see-and-be-seen places, many of them chains, that have prevailed recently. At other end of the spectrum are sushi snobs, those who are so convinced that everyone should eat the purest, most authentic Japanese food that they shun rolls and sake bombers in favor of omakase at every meal. The polarization is unfortunate because there's really a place for a middle ground: reasonably priced, unintimidating places that serve a variety of cooked and raw foods, some authentic and some that would be barely recognizable in Japan, but all well-prepared.

If there is to be a middle ground, Sushi 101, located in Tempe diagonally across from the University / Rural light rail station, might be a candidate for inclusion. The name is an obvious reference to the restaurant's proximity to ASU's main campus and also melds with the restaurant's approach to engaging with diners via on-site classes, make-your-own roll contests, and outreach via social media. If you want to eat cream-cheese filled rolls with chopsticks and then dunk those rolls in a muddy melange of soy sauce and faux wasabi, Sushi 101 is happy to accommodate. On the other hand, if you'd prefer to focus on sashimi and nigiri, keep the soy sauce and wasabi separate, and eat the sushi with your hands, then Sushi 101 is also happy to pat you on the back for stepping up to a higher level of authenticity.

Sushi 101 occupies a key spot in the Cornerstone development, best known as home to the Improv comedy club. That venue encourages its audience to eat dinner from its own kitchen during the shows, but anyone wanting an alternative would do well to eat some Japanese food downstairs instead. In fact, the times right before or after a show at the Improv align well with Sushi 101's happy hours, during which most sushi is available at a deep sea discount. At any time of day, the sushi selection is varied and worth exploring. Most lunch specials come with an assortment of crowd-pleasing nigiri: salmon, tuna, and whitefish. Those are all solid choices: supple in texture, ever-so slightly briny but not overly fishy, and served on nicely packed beds of rice. For a bolder taste, try the mackerel or yellowtail. For a gentler touch, the snow crab is a good choice.

Of course, Sushi 101 offers a long list of rolls, including a weekly special announced on the restaurant's Web site. The roll of the week is usually a creative one with names like "Godzilla" and ingredients like imitation crab, avocado, and cream cheese to make purists cringe. Among the rolls always available, the "Monkey Brain" probably is the most radical departure from tradition with mozzarella, tuna, krab, and seaweed combined and then fried. Most of these concoctions are actually pretty good to anyone willing to approach them with an open mind, but they can also be quite filling. There are lighter, more nuanced rolls on the menu. The Krisp Green roll includes al dente asparagus, lettuce, carrot, avocado, cucumber, and ginger in a sort of salad wrapped in rice. It contrasts nicely with an order of unadorned sashimi.

Cooked food on the menu includes all the usual suspects: teriyaki, tempura, noodles, etc. The tempura vegetables are crisp and not burdened by excessive oiliness. Udon comes in three varieties, including versions with tempura, seafood and tofu, and a meatless choice. The broth is rich, and the garnish of shichimi togarashi, the red seven-spice mixture, adds additional flavor for those who seek it. All the udon dishes come in a big bowl on a wooden tray. The presentation is almost as much fun as those sushi boats over at Hana in Phoenix. Beverages offerings comprise a selection of wine and beer, including perennial sushi bar favorite Kirin Ichiban on draft, and mixed drinks with ingredient lists and names that rival those of the sushi rolls. As with the sushi, there are happy hour specials.

There is always room for improvement, and real grated wasabi would be a welcome touch, even if it came with an extra charge. Still, Sushi 101 is a perfectly good choice for either mainstream Japanese food or way-out-there rolls with myriad influences. Not everyone is going to like sushi, and not every sushi aficionado will appreciate the restaurant's catering to the college crowd. Regardless, Sushi 101 gets the basics right in terms of fish and rice quality, and pairs those fundamentals with efficient, friendly service at both the tables and the semi-circular sushi bar. There's even an attractive patio available facing the busy corner of University and Rural. Sit in any of those environments, order what you like, and enjoy a meal without the pressure to join any particular faction in the sometimes polarized world of sushi.

920 E. University Dr., Tempe AZ 85281 | Map
(480) 317-0101
http://www.sushi-101.com

Chix Charbroil Grill

"Beef or chicken?" That's the cliche of airline in-flight meal choices -- back when airlines still routinely served meals to their passengers. In a cramped airline galley at 30,000 feet, it's hard to offer passengers much choice, so why not choose the two most popular protein sources in the American diet? Chix Charbroil Grill, a restaurant in Tempe, seems to be copying the airline menu concept, admittedly with better results than typically encountered in coach class. Chix offers just two menu choices: beef ribeye or chicken. Both come seasoned with a teryiaki-like marinade, labeled just as "the Sauce," and are available in bowls with rice or as part of plates with rice and sides. Vegetables, mainly a mix of broccoli and carrots, can be added to either type of meat.

Given the minimalist menu, it's not surprising that the decor is also sparse. Chix occupies a storefront in the Tempe Towne Plaza at University and Rural, just a block or two from that intersection's light rail station. It's one of over half a dozen restaurants there, and it's about the only one without a clear ethnic identity. Instead, the food draws Japanese influences from the sauce and rice, but in some ways might be more American with its reliance on land animals rather than fish. Regardless, this place is more about a solid meal at a bargain price than a culinary trip around the world. That's fine. There's a place for no-nonsense fare at reasonable prices, and Chix is an effort to deliver what its slogan promises -- "quality, fresh, healthy" -- for a tab below $10.

Whether a customer chooses beef, chicken, or a mixture of the two, the sauce basted on the meat is based on soy, ginger, and garlic. It's a mild but flavorful sauce that adds tenderness and depth of taste to the popular cuts of meats cooked in the back. With the chicken, there's an optional upgrade to all white meat. Otherwise, there's little choice in how the meat is prepared, but both options come out of the kitchen tender and nicely seasoned. To garnish the food, the person at the counter will add sliced scallions on request. There's also a condiment station with a jug of the same sauce used for basting. Cajun Chef hot sauce, a vinegary and spicy concoction, is also present to add heat. Sliced jalapenos serve the same purpose.

The bowls simply feature the meat, along with the optional vegetable assortment, over rice. White is the default, but brown rice is available for a small additional charge. The plates contain larger portions of meat and add a sort of salad and fruit. The salad is a sort of slaw -- mainly shredded cabbage with a tangy sesame dressing. The fruit may vary, but has most often been a sliced orange. It's a simple but attractive presentation, even if it comes in an annoying foam clamshell. Smaller versions of both the beef and chicken bowls are available on a children's menu, and a side order or veggies is probably a good idea for any kid willing to eat them. Beverages are limited to fountain sodas, iced tea, and a few bottled drinks by the counter. There's no liquor license here, and there's no dessert either. Chix keeps it simple and effectively limits the meal to one course.

Acknowledging that Chix executes its focused, streamlined mission reasonably well, it's still hard not to wish Chix would branch out just a bit. The basting sauce and char-broiling technique used here on beef and chicken might work just as well on other ingredients. Envision shrimp for the seafood enthusiast and tofu for the vegetarian. Either one would pair well with the house sauce and the accompanying bed of rice. To be sure, what's already on the menu is tasty, but it seems that larger groups with more varied tastes might be lured in by a slightly broader menu. Even if that never happens, Chix does a good job with its no-frills approach. Sure, the choices are limited to chicken or beef, but either one tastes better than airline food, and neither requires passing through a security checkpoint.

933 E. University Dr., Tempe AZ 85281 | Map
(480) 967-2232

Flaming Kabob

Humans have always had a fascination with fire. Archaeological evidence points to the earliest use of controlled fire approximately 1.5 million years ago. Now, of course, fire of a sort is in every car engine and every gas stove. Likewise, it's in popular songs from the Door's "Light my Fire" to Bruce Springsteen's "I'm on Fire." Is it any surprise then that restaurant names also follow a fire theme? In Tempe, Middle Eastern restaurant Flaming Kabob has recently replaced the now-defunct Urban Campfire. That's right; this standalone building just a block from the University / Rural light rail station has been the site of not one, but two, restaurants with incendiary names. Moreover, two tenants back, the site was home to Greasy Tony's, a beloved and divey pizza place. In other words, grease fueled a fire, and fire produced flames.

Flaming Kabob's Tempe site is the latest one in a growing local chain. The restaurant's first location was a repurposed Five-and-Diner in Mesa. Since then, new locations have been added in Chandler, Scottsdale, and now near the ASU Main Campus. At the University and Rural site, the decor has been refreshed since the changeover from the previous tenant. It's basically the same layout as before, but the walls on one side actually have flames on them in a bright mural vaguely remiscient of the Hot Wheels cars logo. The shaded patio is there, too, but it's unclear if it's going to be put to use as a dining area. Right now, all the action appears to be on the inside, where about a dozen tables fill a dining room of modest size. Take whatever table appeals and claim it. Flaming Kabob is casual and not yet crowded enough to need any sort of host station.

The restaurant offers several menus. Let's say it's a menu of menus, as confusing as that might be. The biggest is the all-day menu that is common to all four locations. It has the basics like gyros and baba ghanoush on it, but it also offers more ambitious lamb entrees with prices approaching $20. While these items may sell in some of the restaurant's more suburban locations, the Tempe site seems to emphasize a printed lunch menu and a chalkboard on the wall listing all-day pita sandwich specials that include rice or fries and a fountain drink for $6.99. Given the location near a college campus and the recessionary economy, that's probably a smart move. Unless you're in the mood to share one of the giant combination platters, stick with the wall menu or the paper lunch menu.

Even in the bargain basement section of the myriad menus, there's a lot of quality in what's being served. The pita sandwiches come stuffed with fillings like chicken shawarma, nicely seasoned and dressed with a garlicky sauce, and falafel, made on the premises and perfectly balanced between a crisp outer shell and a yielding inner core. The falafel also has a nice level of gentle spice which can be dampened with the accompanying tahini or amplified by requesting a serving of the restaurant's tangy hot sauce. When choosing a side, skip the fries unless you've got a serious craving for potatoes. Their mealy texture suggests the freezer bag rather rather than the farms of Idaho. Instead, order the rice, which is studded with golden raisins and slivered almonds in an appealing pilaf.

Among the starters, the hummus is creamy and airy -- just right for dipping with pieces of the accompanying pita. It's a little understated in terms of lemon or garlic flavor, though. It thrives when mixed with another appetizer like grape leaves or tabouleh. Flaming Kabob's version of the bulghur-based salad is excellent with a strong, but not overpowering, lemon taste, and an appropriate ratio of leaves of parsley to grains of wheat. The two soups are servicable but not the stars of the menu. Lemon chicken has scant poultry and clumpy rice. Lentil is thinner than elsewhere but has a zesty lemon taste. The fatoush salad works well with crunchy romaine, tomato, and a dressing with -- what else? -- a strong note of lemon. In one lunch special, the normal pita chips are replaced with pieces of grilled chicken.

Given the use of halal meats in the kabobs, kibbeh, kofta, and shawarma here, it's not surprising that Flaming Kabob has no liquor license; Urban Campfire's famous "blue collar beer cooler" is now full of fruit juices and bottled water. The big menu advertises a lot of fresh-squeezed juices, but orange is right now the only one straight from the fruit to the table. Order mango, and you'll get something decent but packaged. A few months after its Tempe opening, Flaming Kabob isn't much more busy than the previous tenant at this site. Some of the challenge may be the presence of so many other good Middle Eastern restaurants nearby. Nevertheless, it's hard to have too many good food bargains near a college campus, and if food quality has anything to do with it, maybe this restaurant can re-ignite the fire that has burned on-and-off for years at what should be a prime location.

921 E. University Dr., Tempe AZ 85281 | Map
(480) 921-4141
http://www.flamingkabob.com