Last March I visited my cousin in Phoenix. She takes care of her aging mother and her daughter who just graduated high school and her son who attends ASU. While I was there, B, her mother wanted to go for a drive. The Rock Springs Cafe is about 30 miles north of Scottsdale and is renowned for pie. So we all piled into the car for the half-hour drive.
While this is not intended to be a review of the Rock Springs Cafe, let me just say, the “world famous” pie was underwhelming, as was all the food. We make better pie at home. Way better. The place was jammed, however, and the waiting crowd spilled out into the packed parking lot. It seemed like the clientele were mostly travelers. There were scores of RV’s of every size and scads of families with strings of children in tow making their way across the blazingly hot tarmac. It’s amazing what a little good press will do for mediocre food.
While I was waiting, I noticed this semi-professional waiter passing the time until he could get to the burgers and pie.