For years, my wife Kim and I have intentionally moved away from mainstream American television, finding it often leans towards the superficial and voyeuristic, especially reality TV. We’ve increasingly turned to British television, which we appreciate for its sophistication and depth, qualities often missing in American programming. This preference extends across genres – from mysteries and comedies to dramas and even commercials. British shows tend to be more substantial, refined, and of a higher caliber compared to their American counterparts.
The final straw for American television, for us, were reality shows like The Kardashians and Jersey Shore. These programs seemed to celebrate obnoxious, self-important, and shallow personalities, devoid of any redeeming qualities. Jersey Shore, in particular, popularized the term “guido” and “guidette,” stereotypes for Italian Americans that many within the community find offensive, akin to derogatory terms like “spic” or “wop.” It’s a deeply unflattering portrayal.
If you think we would stoop to watch such shows, know that we only caught a promotional clip boasting about gathering the “hottest, tannest, craziest guidos” at a beach resort for public display. My immediate reaction was, “What an insult to Tony Guido,” a respected Air Force colleague and friend from Massachusetts. Tony was a man of honor and a credit to Italian Americans everywhere. The name “Guido” actually means “guide,” and Tony lived up to that meaning as a trainer and mentor.
The same can be said for Joe Guido, the founder and owner of Guido’s Chicago Meat & Deli in Scottsdale. Joe is a charismatic, larger-than-life figure, and likely the first person you’ll encounter when you visit his renowned deli and restaurant. Joe certainly guided us through our delightful meal. A true pioneer, Joe established Guido’s in 1983, “right after the cowboys and Indians left,” as he humorously recounted in an interview with the Scottsdale Progress, adding, “They were riding horses behind the store when we got here.” Back then, Scottsdale’s development barely extended north of Shea Boulevard, where Guido’s is situated.
Over nearly four decades, Guido’s Chicago Meat & Deli has evolved into much more than just a haven for Windy City expats craving familiar Chicago-area foods. It has become celebrated as one of the most beloved and acclaimed Italian restaurants in the Phoenix metropolitan area. The Phoenix New Times perfectly captured the restaurant’s allure: “Sometimes we go into Guido’s and just stare. Even if we’re not hungry (a rare occurrence) or if we have no money (way too frequent an occurrence), we just love to look around, sniff, and imagine the many flavors on our mind’s tongue.”
A sense of awe and wonder is a typical reaction. For my wife, who was born and raised in Chicago, the experience is even more profound. She was visibly thrilled as she slowly explored the aisles, admiring the floor-to-ceiling shelves overflowing with Italian delicacies and specialty items. Joe mentioned that much of his impressive inventory is sourced directly from Italy whenever possible, but also from New York, California, and of course, Chicago. Cheese lovers will be captivated by the extensive selection of Italian cheeses, perfect partners for the exceptional array of Italian cold cuts. We did have a momentary pause when we noticed the Boar’s Head label, but were reassured that only their ham is sourced from this widely recognized brand of cold cuts in America.
Many deli items, including the Italian sausage, are made in-house at Guido’s Chicago Meat & Deli. This also applies to their salad dressings, sauces, and lasagna. Guido’s even roasts their own roast beef. You’d be hard-pressed to find another restaurant offering the stunning variety of salads available at Guido’s. If the homemade pastas and sausages don’t tempt you, the salads certainly will. And don’t be surprised if you leave with diet-defying fresh breads and picture-perfect Italian cookies, along with olive oils, dressings, wines, and pastas. It’s truly everything an Italian food enthusiast could desire, and more.
December 30, 2022: What my Kim misses most about Chicago is a great Italian beef sandwich. She grew up on Portillo’s Italian beef and remains loyal, though I consistently argue we can find better. Taking her to Guido’s proved my point. On the menu, look for “Chicago style roast beef” (oven-braised top round with Italian beef gravy, served with sautéed peppers and onions upon request). Whatever you call it, this is the genuine article, beloved by Chicago transplants as much as the Chicago Bears. Thanks to the FX series The Bear, Italian beef sandwich sales have surged nationwide.
Italian beef sandwiches are the quintessential Chicago sandwich: heaps of thinly sliced roast beef, submerged au jus in a French roll, and topped with giardiniera. It’s a truly magnificent sandwich. My Kim prefers onions, bell peppers, and cheese to giardiniera, and likes her sandwich “wet” (briefly dipped in the au jus). While Guido’s doesn’t offer the “wet” option, they generously provide a side of au jus. Otherwise, it’s the authentic Italian beef sandwich she grew up with and still adores—perhaps even more than she adores me. Her verdict: significantly better than Portillo’s. December 26, 2023: For nearly a year, Kim longed to return to Guido’s. Being the devoted husband, I brought her back for what is becoming an annual tradition. She savored her second Italian beef sandwich as much as the first.
December 30, 2022: As is often the case with menus brimming with tempting choices, our server (Joe Guido himself) had to return several times to see if I was ready to order. On his third visit, I ordered half an “Italian sub” (salami, mortadella, capocollo, provolone cheese) to tide me over while deciding on an entree. The Italian sub only intensified my appetite. Made with freshly baked bread and garnished with sliced tomatoes and white onions, with pickles on the side, it was superb. I almost regretted not ordering a whole sandwich, but that would likely have left no room for my entree.
December 30, 2022: Before Kim and I married, I was stationed at RAF Fairford in England. Before the internet and when phone calls were expensive, we exchanged lengthy letters, detailing even the smallest things, including our daily meals. One dish she often mentioned cooking was mostaccioli, a dish unfamiliar to me. Seeing “mostaccioli” on the menu evoked memories of our courtship and helped me decide what to order. Topped with seasoned ricotta and melted mozzarella, it was the best I’ve had since Kim first made it for me. For those curious, penne pasta is ridged, while mostaccioli is smooth. Guido’s version is so good, it inspires me to persuade Kim to make it more often.
December 26, 2022: Portion sizes at Guido’s Chicago Meat & Deli are incredibly generous—truly belly-busting, plate-filling, and calorie-rich. While we’d both love to order both a sandwich and an entree, it’s simply too much food. Our compromise is to each order a sandwich and share an entree. The choices are overwhelming. I couldn’t convince Kim to try the Big Joe Arpaio Pasta (calamari sautéed with picante sauce), named after Arizona’s famously tough sheriff. For over 20 years, Sheriff Arpaio ran a controversial “tent city,” incarcerating offenders in spartan conditions.
Instead, we opted for the “gnocchi Pomodoro” (red and white cream sauce, pine nuts, and fresh basil garlic) with both meatballs and Italian sausage. Even sharing a portion of the soft, pillowy gnocchi, our individual servings were quite substantial. The gnocchi is characteristically rich and buttery, each dumpling exceptionally delicate. It’s hard to imagine a better topping than the red and white cream sauce. Golf ball-sized meatballs and fiery Italian sausage perfectly balance the richness of the sauce, while the basil brightens the dish’s flavor.
December 26, 2023: In this era of evolving gender identities and potential interspecies marriages, I jokingly wonder if marrying Guido’s bread would be possible. When I inquired with Manny, Guido’s ever-present greeter, server, and ambassador, about the bread that had captured my heart, he explained it’s baked by a local baker using a recipe from Guido’s father. It’s wonderfully reminiscent of the Italian breads I first fell in love with during my Massachusetts youth.
Though the fresh tuna “salad submarine sandwich” (with lettuce, tomato, mayo, and onions) is listed under “Cold Subs,” do yourself a favor and ask for the bread lightly toasted. It’s how Steve’s House of Pizza in Bedford, Massachusetts, prepared the countless tuna subs I enjoyed in the late 70s. Guido’s tuna is reminiscent of those subs. I’ve often wondered why restaurant (especially deli) tuna sandwiches are superior to homemade versions. According to The Practical Kitchen, “deli tuna salad typically wasn’t made minutes ago; it’s had time to hang out in the fridge overnight. This means “the flavors have time to meld together. The mayo and seasonings absorb into those individual components — the celery, in particular — creating a more cohesive tuna salad experience.”
December 23, 2024: While I have no positive things to say about Olive Garden, I begrudgingly admit to once enjoying their pasta fagioli. Part of my enjoyment is linguistic. Americans tend to mispronounce this classic Italian soup as “fazool,” and I can’t fathom how “zool” comes from “gioli.” The correct Italian pronunciation is faa·jow·lee, meaning “beans” in Italian. Pasta fagioli translates to pasta with beans. In Italian kitchens, Borlotti beans, with their creamy interior, are commonly used. Cannellini beans are another popular choice.
Luigi’s homemade “pasta fagioli” at Guido’s is comfort food soup at its absolute finest. Served in a bowl practically the size of a child’s wading pool, with steam rising to meet your eager nostrils, it’s my favorite pasta fagioli anywhere. Cannellini beans, celery, tomato, carrots, and pasta swim in a reddish broth. This is where the Vietnamese have it right, serving pho with large ceramic spoons for more soup per spoonful. Guido’s could take a cue from the French and serve pasta fagioli with bread for soaking up every last drop of the wonderful soup. Even soup this close to perfection can always be slightly improved.
December 23, 2024: Guido’s has become a Christmas season tradition for three years now. Only on our recent 2024 visit did we discover that Guido’s menu includes “broasted chicken.” We noticed it when passing a diner enjoying a four-piece broasted chicken dinner. Upon being seated, we saw several others with two- or four-piece plates. Our server revealed that broasted chicken has been on Guido’s menu for over thirty years. The menu is so extensive that we had simply overlooked it. Perhaps we’re too quick to order without thoroughly exploring the menu.
At first glance, broasted chicken resembles fried chicken, and it even tastes like some of the best fried chicken you’ve ever had. A two-piece all white meat portion includes two breasts Mae West would envy—seriously prodigious, enough for my companion and me to share some of Kim’s bounty. Breast meat is often drier than thigh meat, but not this broasted chicken. The small (two-piece) broasted chicken meal comes with a choice of two sides: salad or coleslaw, broasted potatoes or potato salad. The broasted potatoes are Texas fry sized and nicely seasoned.
December 23, 2024: On Festivus Day 2024, it was fitting to enjoy pastrami, the most sensual of all salted, cured meats. Guido’s “hot pastrami sandwich” (mustard, Provolone, onions) made it a perfect Festivus, free of grievances. As with every sandwich at Guido’s, the lightly toasted bread provided the ideal base. The pastrami was slightly thicker than I typically prefer, but it had a good lean-to-fat ratio. The mustard added depth and a slight tang that complemented the pastrami’s richness.
December 30, 2022: The Phoenix New Times raves about Guido’s cannoli, calling them “perfect.” If anyone knows about improving perfection, it’s Manny. Instead of cannoli, he suggested the cheesecake. It might be heresy, but the cheesecake is from New York, not Chicago. The debate over which city makes the best cheesecake is ongoing. My vote has always been for Chicago, but Guido’s version is outstanding. It’s rich, dense, and absolutely worth the extra time on the treadmill.
December 26, 2023: In the 1930s, glamorous images of pin-up girls, often scantily clad, became popular in magazines, postcards, and calendars. These images were known as “cheesecake” in the U.S., a female counterpart to “beefcake” for attractive men. Does this suggest sexism goes both ways? Frankly, real cheesecake is more appealing than any pin-up photograph.
That’s especially true of the “lemon ricotta cheesecake.” Guido’s wife makes the best we’ve ever tasted. Every aspect of her cheesecake is handmade from a family recipe. The quarter-inch bottom crust, possibly graham cracker-based, is enhanced by a secret ingredient that keeps it perfectly intact. You actually need to press down firmly with your fork to cut through it. It’s absolutely worth the effort. The cheesecake itself is rich and decadent with a bright, tangy lemon flavor. This remains my favorite cheesecake, at least until our next visit to Guido’s.
Guido’s Chicago Meat & Deli truly embodies comfort food deliciousness. It’s everything a great Italian deli should be, and so much more.
Guido’s Chicago Meat & Deli
10893 North Scottsdale Road
Scottsdale, Arizona
(480) 951-0636
Website | Facebook Page
LATEST VISIT: December 23, 2024
1st VISIT: December 30, 2022
# OF VISITS: 3
RATING: 25
COST: $$
BEST BET: New York Cheesecake, Tiramisu, Mostaccioli, Italian Beef Sandwich, Italian Sandwich, Lemon Ricotta Cheesecake, Tuna Salad Sandwich, Gnocchi with Sausage and Meatballs, Broasted Chicken, Pasta Fagioli, Hot Pastrami Sandwich
REVIEW #1312
