Tell Michelin to take those stars and shove ’em

I didn’t need the upset stomach I was left with after reading Endia Fontanez’s article in The Arizona Republic about why there are no Michelin star restaurants in Phoenix.

I had gone to the story in hopes of ingesting a kind of mental antacid to offset the intellectual heartburn a person is left with after a day of following Arizona politics.

But, no.

What I found, instead, was a fascinating report on how the highbrows running this snooty foodie guide have ignored our desert paradise because taxpayers here haven’t paid the guide’s gourmet grifters.

As a child growing up in a steel town outside of Pittsburgh, haute cuisine was taking a drive to the Pennsylvania Turnpike and hitting the first Howard Johnson’s we came upon, where epicurean nirvana was to be found nestled in the buttery bun of a HoJo’s “frankfort” hot dog.

Apparently, connoisseurs of more sophisticated dining fare look to the Michelin Guide in search of “starred” restaurants, of which Phoenix has zero.

That seemed odd, until Fontanez explained: “Michelin simply has not visited Arizona. And, unlike Chicago or New York, if Phoenix wants its own Michelin Guide, taxpayers will have to help foot the bill.”

Pay for praise?

She then described how other cities have ponied up the cash, writing, “William Pate, president and CEO of Discover Atlanta, said the tourism board there signed a three-year contract with Michelin for $1 million, or about $333,000 a year.

“That money is used to cover the travel costs of Michelin’s inspectors, as well as other marketing and promotional efforts.”

Nope.

Anyone who has supped on a Bianco pizza or nestled into the Hog & Chick at Matt’s Big Breakfast, or stopped by just about any mom-andpop Mexican café in town, knows that there aren’t enough stars in the galaxy or a guidebook to describe the savory bliss in our sustenance-rich metropolis.

So, sorry, Michelin Guide.

Here in Phoenix, we love good food. But we have no stomach for BS.

ed.montini@arizonarepublic.com.