18 July 3rd-July 10th, 2024 phoenixnewtimes.com PHOENIX NEW TIMES | NEWS | FEATURE | FOOD & DRINK | ARTS & CULTURE | MUSIC | CONCERTS | CANNABIS | pasty on the bottom, it never achieves a sizzling crisp crust, and its core quickly solidifies, robbing you of the ooze and pull that makes the dish so wonderful. Turkish meatballs are nicely spiced, but they’re overworked and tough, and they’re buried in the same tomato sauce and tzatziki you’ll find all over the menu. It seems there’s no sauce Thea can’t spread across half a dozen dishes. Speaking of which, “Parma” flatbread is a flaccid sort without much personality. They’ve debased prosciutto di Parma’s primary allure by converting its supple texture and funky sweetness into fried, jerky-like salt shavings, paired — in an encore appearance — with the same muddy pesto Genovese that adorned the baba ghanoush. When we order Spring Tabbouleh, we get a salad mostly composed of pea tendrils and sugar snaps in a candy-sweet lemon vinaigrette. Only a light smattering of bulgur wheat and a few token sprigs of parsley make a cursory nod to the original. There’s nothing wrong with taking creative liberties, but at what point is the under- lying culture just a collection of buzzwords for the mood board? I always try my best to assume good intentions, but I’m struggling not to see this as a deeply cynical exercise. Turkish meatballs are nicely seasoned, but buried in dull sauces. (Photo by Dominic Armato) That’s when the sushi arrives You heard me. “Why is there sushi on the menu?” we ask our server. “Because everybody loves sushi!” she cheerfully replies. Everybody loves mac and cheese, too, I nearly blurt out. But this poor woman didn’t design the menu so I stifle my inner smartass. Joke’s on me. The rice is a little leathery, but the sushi is one of Thea’s better offer- ings. Really, though, the bar is low. Fox proudly highlights Thea’s Spaghetti alla Nerano, inspired, he says, by his travels on the Amalfi Coast. Setting aside the dubious combination of Southern Italian cuisine and beurre monté, the dish is a disaster. The pasta has no bite, the sauce is a sticky, overpowering morass and I cannot fathom what the kitchen thinks a pile of acrid, burned zucchini slices adds to this mess. Shrimp Scorpio — overcooked and swimming in a light tomato sauce with orzo — looks pretty but sings in a sour monotone. If you’re going to make a dish that celebrates the glory of a simple tomato, you have to start with a glorious tomato. These might be excusable at the corner gyro stand, but I can think of 353 million reasons why Sam Fox should be able to get a hold of decent tomatoes. On one visit, the general manager spies me coming in the door and the skirt steak I order is fabulous — tender and juicy and cooked to a pinpoint temperature. I’d eagerly eat it again, so I do. The next visit, however, I engage in a little skullduggery to ensure no one will know the steak is for me. It’s significantly less fabulous. Not bad, but not nearly the same. And it has company. Oh, hey, there’s that pesto Genovese again, slathered over the top of my steak like a blanket of wet moss. Stick around long enough and Thea’s duller condiments will keep circling back to kick you again. Missing the mark... or not? Desserts are fine, but does it matter? Either you’re four spritzes deep and too busy Toum with a View from p 16 Sushi... yes, sushi... at Thea Mediterrean Rooftop in Phoenix. (Photo by Dominic Armato)
