Review:
Joe’s Farm Grill cooks up all-American organic goodness
By Michael Grady
November 2006
Get lured in by the BBQ Pork Plate, a half pound of pork, cole slaw, fries and garlic flat bread for $10.99.
Joe Trevino Special to Get Out
One-thirty on a Sunday, and Joe’s Farm Grill is neck-deep in the after-church rush.
The newly opened burger-and-barbecue emporium — a jewel in the rural heart of Gilbert’s Agritopia development — makes a patriotic chaser to morning services: oozing Americana from its stone borders, kid-friendly lawns and spreading trees to the sloping ’60s-style drive-in structure, where they dish up organically grown fare to waves of the hungry and devout.
The ambience is friendly rural-folksy. You half-expect to see “American Gothic” guy in line for barbecue, with his dour wife begging him to leave the pitchfork in the car. Of course, ambience is a whole lot of nothin’ if the food ain’t good.
Fortunately, at Joe's Farm Grill, it is.
No clowns were injured
Its menu, rep and Web site bristle with mission statement (organic, locally grown food … yada, yada), so Joe’s Farm Grill easily could have been one of those places whose taste lags behind its intentions. But they serve an impressive range of entrees that easily hold their own.
The Barbecue Pork Sandwich ($7.99) is a well-garnished quarter pound of delicious pulled pork in a sweet-tasting hickory sauce that isn’t too syrupy. The Ahi Tuna Sandwich ($11.99) is red-rare at the center, but moist and light, with enough tang from the wasabi mayo to make you stop caring where they harvest tuna in Gilbert.
For vegetarians, the Portobello Mushroom Sandwich ($8.99) has a hearty taste that is nicely offset by Green Goddess dressing.
But on this Sunday, when every rack of baby backs had been pre-emptively consumed by the faithful, the BBQ Chicken Pizza, ($8.99) with its thin crust, light hickory flavor and tender chunks of chicken, carried the day.
They don’t short-arm the side orders, either. For $3.99, the onion rings are crisp and, if you’ve never tried sweet potato fries, the same amount will get you a basket full of festive, bright orange strips. It tastes delicious, even though it looks like somebody scalped a clown.
The scarlet-and-white beet salad (that rides shotgun with the portobello sandwich) is surprisingly tasty, with its chunks of blue cheese. And their cole slaw is … well, it’s cole slaw. But if you need cole slaw to rock your world, then your problems extend beyond dining.
Puffy projectile
If the entrees aren’t enough to fill your inner grain silo, the Hot Fudge Cream Puff ($4.99) is an incredibly decadent projectile of puff pastry, vanilla ice cream and whipped cream, with a small cup of hot fudge that you can pour on top, or drink as a chaser if you’re completely shameless.
It’s big enough to share — which is a good idea, because no one squeals when the guilt is spread equally.
Joe’s Farm Grill does offer an enclosed nonsmoking area, but the food is best savored picnic-style, atop the tables in its breezy walkway or in the yard beneath the 90-year-old tamarisk trees. One family out back discovered, too late, that Sunday afternoon was automatic sprinkler time.
But they were careful to protect the food as they ran, which tells you a lot about the quality.
Many restaurants throw their doors open, content to iron out the bugs along the way. But Joe’s Farm Grill is strong off the blocks. Their two unisex rest rooms are clean and quirky. The counter folk and clean-up staff are friendly, even when your hot fudge does a back flip off your tray.
Here’s hoping they can stay on their early, impressive game, and not drown in the folks who already know about them.
“Tell people it stinks,” my daughter pleaded, “so we can keep it to ourselves.”
Too late now.