From Food Science to Wiener Chaos: Alton Brown's Farewell Tour

Desert Sounds Magazine co-founder Alex Gold showing off Alton Brown's local fans' hot dog-building skills at the end of Brown's show on April 6, 2025 at the Mesa Arts Center in Mesa, AZ.

America's favorite informational cooking daddy ALTON BROWN is calling it quits with the culinary education career to pursue a passion in bodybuilding, and graced Mesa with not one but two stops on his farewell tour on April 6th 2025. He brought with him something for fans of both “Good Eats” and “Cutthroat Kitchen”–a perfect send-off blend of science and chaos.

The evening kicked off with BROWN reliving stories of his childhood, complete with multiple sets ranging from his mouth-destroying favorite cereal Captain Crunch (his first teacher on the importance of following recipes to ensure perfect milk-to-cereal ratio or risk soggy-bowl disaster) to a photocopying mishap. That recipe blunder - missing a key step about discarding a marinade - became a horribly acidic soup that he himself described as "Baby wino vomit soup with albino tadpoles."

As storytime wrapped up, BROWN pivoted to his first demonstration: AI Recipes. Not the good ones, though. Ones where any human with the slightest echo of sanity would kick you out of the kitchen eternally for suggesting. Like Savory chopped liver and dark chocolate s'mores with spinach anchovy marshmallows. We witnessed this monstrosity being created through a video feed to BROWN's dungeon-dwelling assistant "Dank Eats" (open flames and theaters don't mix). Fortunately, we only had to see this culinary crime scene without being subjected to the smells.

Moving on from why certain things should never be made, BROWN shifted to science mode, teaching us about thermodynamics and the difference between temperature and heat. The star of this segment? A piece of iron that wouldn't look out of place in a CrossFit gym - fitting for BROWN's new career direction. An 18" x 20" x 2" slab affectionately dubbed…well… "The Slab," pre-heated before the show and retaining enough heat to cook BROWN's Hundred Dollar Omelette - just a regular omelette with cheese, pickled jalapeños, chives (about $2) and a dozen eggs (the remaining $98). His condiment of choice? A traditional "Appalachian Trailer Trash" (his words) mix of equal parts Sriracha, Ketchup, and Mayonnaise.

After a brief intermission where BROWN hopefully finished his overpriced egg creation in peace, the evening took a sharp turn into “Cutthroat Kitchen” territory. Four lucky audience members discovered golden tickets under select chairs, unwittingly volunteering for BROWN's chaotic challenge.

Before introducing these victims, BROWN delivered a quick history lesson on steam-powered machinery, demonstrating a vintage Aeolipile from his Uncle Barnabus - who, as it happens, designed the night's challenge: Barnabas Brown's Wiener Wonder! This steam-powered contraption moved wieners from a heating chamber onto a rotating plate where contestants loaded them into buns on a spinning ferris wheel. Once all buns were filled, they moved to the next station for toppings (chosen before the start of the festivities by spinning a wheel), before being boxed in containers featuring BROWN's face. (ALTON's. Not Barnabas’)

The stakes? All tour stops were competing to be the fastest to bun, dress, and box 80 wieners. With Mesa hosting two shows, we placed twice in the top 10!

The contestant introductions proved unexpectedly entertaining. First up was Jen from Phoenix who "loves a good wiener" and spun the wheel to land on coleslaw (half of Arizona's music scene is screaming right now). Next came Jason from Gilbert, a mailman "here for some wiener action," who landed on ALTON's Choice. When Jason lobbied for relish, BROWN begrudgingly allowed it. Katherine from Mesa, celebrating her 15th anniversary, offered no wiener-related quips and landed on sauerkraut.

Katherine's lack of jokes didn't matter, because the fourth victim truly pulled an Uno Reverse card on BROWN. Cassie asked if he'd ever heard of a "Celebrity Free Pass List." He had not. Nor had his wife, "who is a very good shot with a rifle." After a pause, Cassie mentioned she "likes Costco wieners," to which BROWN replied the competition's wieners were "not quite the same length. They are average. And cost more than $1.50." Cassie's topping? Mustard. 

If you're wondering about the taste of this Slaw-Relish-Kraut-Mustard wiener creation - I regrettably cannot tell you. The box that reached me contained just one wiener with a splash of mustard and a naked, wiener-less bun. Others reported they were "not bad," but I'll never know. I gave my barely-dressed wiener to a security guard who was eyeing my box rather intensely.

In what became the night's unexpected subplot, Cassie's thirst for BROWN's signature sauce was more palpable than the scent of 80 steaming wieners. The whole operation was predictably chaotic, with Cassie seizing every opportunity to advance on BROWN–from "seductively" drinking condiments from udder-like devices to stroking wieners and kneeling to present her box. The team boxed their wieners in two and a half minutes. If Mesa maintains its top 10 position, BROWN has promised to return and bestow upon us... honor.

As the evening concluded with BROWN finally clearing the hormonal energy from the stage, he broke out his guitar–now a staple of his live shows. His song choice? A Boy Scout tune called "Dunderbecks Machine." BROWN warned the audience: "I read the lyrics and said 'oh my God they let children sing this??' This has more triggers than a gunshot. If you're offended easily, go into the lobby early and buy some T-shirts."