Places carlamtrujillo Wants to Go

A giant mascot, a car bomb, and the mafia mingle in the history of a defunct restaurant chain.

The installation’s official name, “You Who Are Getting Obliterated in the Dancing Swarm of Fireflies,” says it all.

This rustic cabin, outfitted with gun slits, was once home to John D. Tewksbury, patriarch of the bloodiest family feud in American history.

Founded by members of the Tohono O’odham Nation, this one-room joint's James Beard–winning fry bread is light as a cloud.

In this small Phoenix taxidermy emporium, you can find everything from a squid in a jar to a freeze-dried toad.

Open since 1938, this diner has kept its fountain, malt machine, and all the gum that greasers left beneath its counter.

A former department store turned into a quirky restaurant.

These delicate buggers are some of the rarest fossils that have bubbled up from the Tar Pits.