Let’s be honest. Most restaurants blend together after a while: dim lights, industrial-chic decor, and a menu full of “truffle-infused this” and “artisanally-sourced that.” But then there’s The Duce in downtown Phoenix.
A place so gloriously oddball, you half expect a tiny horse to trot by with a menu strapped to its back. (Spoiler: I haven’t seen that… yet.)
I stumbled into The Duce during First Friday, drawn less by hunger and more by the sound of live jazz and what looked suspiciously like a miniature Ferris wheel behind the bar. Three hours, one poutine-topped burger, and a round of indoor bocce later, I was officially hooked…