Arizona holds a reputation for epic canyons and blazing sunsets, but the real adventure I stumbled upon was tucked behind a modest, weather‑worn facade on a back‑alley street in Tucson. Dominick’s Steakhouse, a place that feels like a private club for steak lovers.
I arrived with a rumbling stomach and a notebook ready for the “best‑ever” claim, only to be greeted by a warm, rustic interior and a maître d’ who offered a firm handshake and a wink.
The first cut of meat that hit my plate was a thick, marbled ribeye that practically glowed with juices, each bite delivering a “wow” that echoed louder than any canyon echo…