In the spirit of our Wild West cover story, we offer this round-up of Western-themed amenities and services in the Valley.
Arizona Cowboy College
If you’re looking to learn how to lasso a wild mustang (or just how to ride a tame one), this is a great place to start.
30208 N. 152nd St., Scottsdale
Forget every truth you hold to be self-evident: Arizona in the 1870s and 1880s was practically a Bizarro world version of our modern state. Back then, calling a man a “cowboy” wasn’t a compliment but fighting words. Mexico impatiently urged the United States to seal the porous border and stop Americans from stealing their property. And white males who disliked the federal government came to Arizona to get away from Republicans.
Arizona’s modern love affair with wine is barely 30 years old, but their courtship dates back to the 16th century.
Stephen Schwartz waited years to drink the label-less bottle of wine he’s holding in his hands. When the time finally comes, he’s almost too afraid to open it. “How do you taste a wine like this?” he asks. “You certainly don’t ask your wine-loving friends over. To tell you the truth, I
Cudia City is remembered as much for the Hollywood glamour it bestowed on the fledgling desert city as the Westerns produced there. Located at the northwest corner of Camelback Road and 40th Street, the replica frontier town was a well-trafficked film and TV production spot from 1939 until it was redeveloped in the 1960s.
Situated on a Wild West movie set, Cudia Restaurant attracted Hollywood stars and foreign dignitaries – but none outshone its host, Italian nobleman Salvatore Cudia.
If a restaurant is a reflection of the talents and charisma of its owner, Salvatore P.B. Cudia set a high bar for fine dining in Phoenix for almost two decades. Already an accomplished sculptor, painter, photographer, musician, inventor, voice coach, and movie director, Cudia was also fluent in six languages by the time he entered the Valley’s hospitality
Centuries-old Indian cliff dwellings offer a secret link to the Valley’s pre-Columbian past. And they’re only a four-mile backcountry hike away.
The eastward sprawl of modern Phoenix ends at the foot of the hot, red Superstitions, where our streets and sidewalks dare not climb. Ancient suburbanites were not so easily deterred. Fleeing the bustle of their society’s business district, now mostly submerged below the waters of