Ryan
Google
If your mom has passed away, and your wife ain’t skilled in the kitchen, then you need to visit Kiss the Cook Restaurant. There’s no place in Phoenix like this place, I tell you what. And if you’re a good southern boy, here’s your sign… you gotta go.
Now remember, in small towns service is slower, and this establishment accurately resembles the small town service. It’s friendly, no doubt, but these people are human, so cool your jets.
The coffee was served in a clear glass, which I’ll admit is a touch strange. And to our surprise (or perhaps our misunderstanding of the menu) we received a basket of mini muffins and butter (tossed in with the muffins to soften it, nice touch!). The muffins were a mixed bag of flavors, not quality, and were fantastic. Tangentially, I don’t understand why these individual containers of “butter” are refrigerated in the first place, which necessitates the tossing in with the muffins for melting prior to the spreading process, but I digress….
When our meals arrived we were starving, and we dealt a swift devouring to them. We were both quite pleased with our choices, and the leftovers were minimal. Chris, our server, was sweet like the muffins and kind like, well, a server should be.
For our breakfast dessert we grabbed the last slice of cherry pie and an afterthought slice of blueberry, both à la mode, which means with ice cream. Don’t you dare order pie without ice cream, or Chris will give you that side eye. And you don’t want that side eye from Chris.