It used to be that the best margaritas in Tucson were at a bar called Nevada Smith's, a rundown place on Miracle Mile, across from the graveyard and before the I-10 on-ramp. For a while, the man in my life and I had drinks there almost every week. Two dollars would get you a frosty tumbler filled to the salty rim with a tangy yellow-green margarita—not too sweet, not too sour, not too... More >>>