Eddie Maroni’s Pizzeria provides a menu of pasta, sandwiches, and pizzas that give cheese-pie seekers a taste of accomplishment. A 16-inch meaty Maroni pizza punches palates with pepperoni, bacon from Canada and America, genoa salami, sausage, and ground beef ($18), while a 12-inch perfect pizza expertly blends pepperoni, mushroom, and black olives to deliver a flawless food specimen ($13). An 18-inch veggie pizza helps herbivores avoid dining dilemmas ($18); adventurous food-architects can also build their own pizza by choosing from a variety of sauces and toppings ($10+).
At more than 2,600 stores in more than 30 countries, Dunkin' Donuts serves coffee and iced beverages, fresh-baked donuts and desserts, and savory breakfast sandwiches. Since Bill Rosenberg opened the first location in Quincy, MA, in 1950, the donut shop has blossomed into a one-stop coffee and breakfast restaurant familiar to millions of morning rushers and afternoon sippers.
Behind the counter of each location, glazed french crullers twist and curve like Parisian city streets, and Bavarian Kreme donuts are filled with a sweet, golden custard. A cavalcade of meats is available for piling onto breakfast sandwiches, such as sausage, cherrywood-smoked bacon, or ham enveloped with fluffy eggs and melty cheese between a choice of crisp crusts. Health-conscious risers can fuel strenuous bouts of lifting cars in the drive-thru line with a Wake-Up wrap, which offers options such as egg whites with turkey sausage or veggies that add up to as few as 150 calories. Both sweet and savory selections pair well with a freshly brewed cup of coffee or a creamy, frozen Coolatta drink.
Though commuters can snag a quick pick-me-up within minutes, the wafting aromas of baking confections invite patrons to sit inside and embark on nostalgic reminiscences of syrup-coated playground slides. Beyond the bakery walls, the company aims for social responsibility with its support of community volunteer efforts and use of 100% fair-trade-certified espresso beans.
Comfortably nestled in the shadows of the San Tan Mountains, owner Perry Rea and his family coax silken oils out of the olives they grow in their own groves. After more than 10 years of experiments, they finally settled on planting a few more than 16 distinct varietals, which thrive in the otherwise unforgiving Arizona deserts. Extending thoughtful care to each harvest, they avoid using any pesticides or genetically modified trees, employ water-conserving drip irrigation, and hand-pluck their olives at the peak of ripeness. Within 24 hours of picking, the staff then presses the crop in order to extract oils that taste as fresh as honey taken directly from a bee's pantry.
The fresh oils line the shelves of the mill's marketplace alongside imported wines and locally made goods. In addition to gourmet food items, the store stocks an extensive collection of Italian ceramics, works by local painters, and bath-and-body products infused with extra-virgin olive oil.
Queen Creek Olive Mill's oils also appear on the menu of del Piero, the facility's Tuscan-inspired bistro. Based on the Rea family's own recipes, each entree incorporates organic ingredients whenever possible, including locally sourced meats and herbs from the organic garden.
Starting with only a single ice shaver and a hand-built hut, Bahama Buck's has expanded its icy empire to include a menu loaded with arctic indulgences and more than 91 gourmet flavors of Sno. Dessertsmiths drizzle complex flavors such as tangy kiwi, sweet sugar cookie, and emotionally ambivalent tutti frutti over fluffy mounds of pulverized ice to create Sno cones ($2.69+). Fruit juices and syrups spawn creamy smoothies ($3.99+), and frozen limeade ($2.79) puckers drinkers' lips, making them as taut as the bed sheets in a black hole's hotel.
The menu at The Deli shows off eclectic dishes concocted from ingredients grown exclusively for the restaurant on a 3-acre organic farm. Melted pepper-jack cheese, caramelized onions, bell peppers, and horseradish swaddle warm roast beef on a baguette ($9) on the hefty sandwich menu. Pizzas, crafted with house-made dough, mozzarella, and marinara, provide a stage for topping tribes—such as sausage, red onion, roasted peppers, and parmesan ($14)—to perform their hunger-squashing rituals. Hydrate a dusty esophagus with a swig of Tempe-born Four Peaks ale ($3), or sip the vanilla-and-berry-toned Trivento malbec ($7), which stains tongues more easily than a French kiss from the Kool-Aid man.