WEEKEND

Praising Arizona

By Amy Rosen

How the good life is lived a little differently in Scottsdale.

Fairmont Scottsdale Princess

Scottsdale is an adobe expanse of gated communities and sprawling mansions built into the tumbling rock faces of Arizona’s cactus-studded moonscape. But this parched land punctuated by golf courses and swimming pools is more than the 90210 of the desert; it’s a whole city passionately devoted to living leisurely. Phoenix is for work, while Scottsdale, its swish sister, is for play.

Once I’d arrived in Scottsdale, my first order of business was a spa treatment, just to get in that Scottsdale state of mind. This is, after all, America’s spa capital. At the Four Seasons Resort Scottsdale’s spa, I was treated to prickly pear lemonade and the signature Desert Nectar Facial, which involves a custom ampoule and penetrating mask. My favorite part was getting my hands rubbed with local honey and then inserted into baking mitts while my face was being exfoliated and massaged. For an even earthier option, the Willow Stream Spa at the Fairmont Scottsdale Princess draws inspiration from a hidden Grand Canyon oasis called Havasupai with treatments like the Desert Purification that features a body mask of cornmeal clay and exfoliation using a natural fiber cloth made from cactus.

Relaxed, I was ready to explore the downtown Arts District. Home to over 100 galleries within a square-mile radius, this vibrant hub features both contemporary and traditional Western art, including Native American crafts. Many of the shops and galleries twinkle with handmade Zuni silver jewelry. And with hundreds of different artists to discover, there’s little risk of getting Navajo carpet fatigue. One of the best ways to take it all in is through organized art walks, which have been held Thursday nights for the past 35 years.

At the other end of the cultural spectrum, past the donkeys, roosters and “No Weapons Allowed” signs, I came across a couple of Old West-style structures. Although I was only 18 miles from gallery central, it felt like I was in the middle of nowhere. This is Greasewood Flat, home to the half-pound green chili cheeseburger. Our bartender, Paul, filled us in on some of the local lore: The thousands of dollar bills we saw pegged to the ceiling were left by cowboys working the dusty trail so they’d be sure to have drinking money when they returned. This got me thinking: While drinking beer at picnic tables may not seem like otherworldly opulence, those cowboys sure had their priorities straight.

The next thing I learned is that leisure doesn’t mean you don’t break a sweat, especially in this land of mercury-boiling heat. Having spied a rocky outcrop from my poolside lounger at the Four Seasons resort, I couldn’t help but walk over and attack the peak. Pinnacle Peak Park covers 150 acres, including a 3.5-mile round-trip trail for hiking and horseback riding. They say that 7 a.m. is as late as you want to attempt this due to the intense heat, so up we went at 6:30 a.m. after warnings from a guide to watch out for rattlesnakes. It’s not a demanding hike, but it is an enchanting one, surrounded by the Sonoran Desert landscape.

That evening, ready to switch back to a more refined mode of desert dining, we made our way to Michael Mina’s Bourbon Steak, where the bar and dining room are as striking as our waiter’s and sommelier’s matching faux hawks. In this new wave of contemporary steak house, tableside service isn’t about stodgy Caesar salads and cherries jubilee; instead, it’s tuna tartare bound with quail’s egg, followed by a showy two-pound lobster pot pie, opened tableside and reconstructed on the plate. The brandy cream sauce and shell-on lobster pieces put all other pot pies to shame.

My steak was the finest American Kobe, and the beignets, sided by a Macallan 18-infused pot de crème, may be the single greatest dessert I’ve ever had. Together, these dishes brought me to the most complete understanding of this place I’d achieve in the course of the weekend: High-end and low, indoors and out, cultured and raw, Scottsdale’s unique brand of good living is tough to define and tougher still to leave behind.

(Amy Rosen writes mostly about food but should probably start writing about exercise. Visit her at thenationalnosh.blogspot.com)

CACTUS FLOWERS: SCOTTSDALE CVB
JEWELLERY: SCOTTSDALE CVB
SPA: FOUR SEASONS