Welcome back, hungry humans! This is Part 2 of my definitive Provo eats list. After dozens of meals, untold calories, and a lot of enthusiastic fork-dropping, here are 14 more unforgettable bites from a city that keeps outdoing itself. Let’s dig in. Continue reading…
Diners wait for the best Italian of their life at Di Napoli (courtesy Blake Snow)
In my capacity as a travel writer to all seven continents, I’ve eaten some of the finest food on Earth. Seven course meals on the tippy top of the Eiffel Tower. Michelin star restaurants in the Italian Alps. Amazing home-cooked meals in Latin America and Africa. Several “What delicious thing did I just eat?” in Asia. And some of the best food in all of America—in Wisconsin of all places.
Although biased, I can honestly say that my hometown of Provo, Utah lives up to its reputation as one of the best, most diverse, and original restaurant scenes in the western United States. This summer, my family has been on a mission to try the very best restaurants for a roundup guide I’m penning later this fall.
Until then, here’s an overview of some of my favorites so far: Continue reading…
Courtesy Shutterstock
Once upon a time in the mid ’90s, my family regularly enjoyed lunch or dinner at Applebee’s. The national restaurant chain was founded in my home state of Georgia and rapidly expanded across the country that same decade. Americans loved the affordable comfort food, as did my father. Our whole family did really. So we ate there often.
Fifteen years ago, that all came to a screeching halt. After the last of an increasingly disappointing, if not unappetizing, meal, my twenty-something wife and I turned to each other and announced, “Let’s not eat here again.” So we didn’t.
Until this month. Continue reading…
It’s called Mountain West Burrito. It’s in a freaking gas station. It’s my new favorite restaurant.
Basically, it’s our version of the Chipotle craze sweeping the nation, only better for the following reasons: Joe, the owner, takes orders and waits tables like you wouldn’t believe. Dude is everywhere; serving chips, giving out organic lollipops to my kids, clearing my table. He knew my name after two visits. Impressive.
Not only that, but the tortillas, meat, produce etc are all locally sourced. Place even claims they don’t own a can opener! My taste buds concur.
So if you’re ever in Provo — “I think you’d dig it. You could do well here.” — run, don’t walk, to MWB.
Part two in my Awkward Tip Etiquette series
I stiffed my take-out waiter for the first time this weekend and got an ugly look for it.
Normally I tip receptionists a buck for boxing my meal and carrying it all the way from the kitchen to the reception desk. (Excruciating work, I know.) But this time I grew a pair and followed my wife’s example: Don’t tip a restaurant worker for putting carry-out in a bag for you.
Again, I’m fine tipping someone that actually “waits on you” in a dining room. Servers don’t get paid a minimum wage. They’re normally hard workers and/or are struggling to make ends meet. So I’m happy to throw a few Washingtons their way for good service.
But I’m done tipping for carry-out, since the person handing me my food doesn’t add any value to my patronage, nor do they serve. I don’t care if it’s the bartender, the host, or some other receptionist. And I’m not going to let awkward attempts to “serve me” a bag or ugly looks deter me. Unless, of course, you can convince me otherwise.
Do you tip for carry-out food? If so, why?
