"In a peach-painted brick building that still bears the timeworn sign of its former tenant, a tax company, Gracie’s pours no-bullshit drinks for an eclectic crowd that draws from many Phoenix subcultures. Drinks are cheap. Food is simple and greasy (check out the onion rings and fried pickle spears). People nurse pitchers of beer and sangria on a patio where blooms of ivy creep up a white wall toward the pale desert sky. Inside, a wide-ranging jukebox oozes tunes into the heavy dimness. Fun fact: Grace Perry, owner, used to sing in a local metal band. Drink specials rotate, featuring the likes of mystery shots and a $5 tequila sunrise." - Nikki Buchanan, Chris Malloy
