Wayward Scottsdale: Leaving the Expected Path

Before the cocktails arrive or a single plate leaves the kitchen, Wayward tells you exactly who it is.

It's printed on the back of the menu.

Not awards. Not accolades. Not a list of celebrity endorsements.

Instead, you'll find a page titled Places We Adore—a collection of restaurants the team genuinely loves. It's an unexpectedly humble gesture in an industry built on competition. Rather than asking diners to focus solely on themselves, Wayward celebrates the chefs and restaurants that inspire them. It immediately changes the conversation.

That sense of generosity carried through every interaction during my evening.

Our server, Nathan Padilla, didn't recommend a favorite dish because, as he put it, "Everything from the kitchen is phenomenal." Normally I'd dismiss a statement like that as rehearsed, but it felt sincere. It told me he'd actually eaten the menu, believed in it, and genuinely enjoyed representing it. Before I'd taken my first bite, I already trusted the people behind the experience.

Food has always been storytelling.

Every chef writes differently—some with restraint, others with bold flavors—but every plate reflects a life lived before it reaches the table.

For Executive Chef CJ Kahley, those stories come from everywhere.

Make it stand out

Influenced by Korean and Japanese traditions while carrying the foundation of classical French technique and years spent cooking in Latin kitchens, Kahley doesn't see cuisine through the lens of borders. He reads about cultures, studies techniques, and then translates what fascinates him into food. His menu isn't fusion for the sake of novelty; it's deeply personal.

Ironically, Kahley never planned on becoming a chef.

His first love was journalism. He dreamed of becoming a travel writer, documenting places and food from around the world. To better understand restaurants from the inside, he took jobs in Las Vegas kitchens, believing it would make him a better writer.

Instead, it changed the course of his life.

He discovered something writing couldn't give him: immediate human connection. Watching someone take that first bite, seeing conversations unfold around a shared meal, creating memories in real time—that became the story he wanted to tell.

Wayward is a name that perfectly reflects the restaurant’s rebellious spirit. Familiar ingredients appear in unfamiliar forms. Expectations are challenged. Textures surprise. Nothing exists simply because tradition says it should.

That philosophy extends beyond the kitchen.

Operations are led by Kyla Hein, whose extensive cocktail background shines through a beverage program that's just as inventive as the food. The cocktail names borrow from classic Spaghetti Westerns, while the drinks themselves borrow from cultures around the world.

The Fistful of Dollars transforms the classic dirty martini with Grey Goose vodka and a house blend of olive brine, pickle juice, and kimchi that's clarified with milk until it's silky, crystal clear, and served nearly frozen.

The Twilight Samurai became one of my favorites—a beautifully balanced combination of sesame oil fat-washed Hendrick's Gin, lychee, pineapple, orgeat, lime, and egg white. Fat washing removes impurities while capturing rich aromatic flavors, resulting in a cocktail that's remarkably smooth while retaining incredible depth.

Then there's The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, perhaps the menu's most playful expression of Wayward's East-meets-West philosophy. Inspired by the iconic film, it incorporates flavors from the kitchen—including beef drippings reserved from the taco board—alongside yuzu curaçao and allspice dram to create something smoky, savory, and completely unexpected.

That same spirit defines the food.

Chef Khaley considers the Birria Kushiyaki the dish that best represents who he is. On paper, it sounds straightforward: a Japanese-style beef skewer wrapped in flour tortilla with adobo, caramelized onions, cotija crema, and chives. But expectations quickly disappear after the first bite. Crispy where you expect tenderness. Creamy where you expect crunch. Even the charred beef develops an unexpected texture.

When I admitted it wasn't my personal favorite, Khaley simply smiled.

"That's the point."

He isn't trying to create dishes everyone immediately understands. He's asking diners to question assumptions—to discover new combinations of texture and flavor they didn't know they would enjoy.

Ironically, the dish that completely won me over was one that felt a little more familiar.

The Pork Belly Tacos.

Housemade corn tortillas cradle impossibly tender pork belly beneath ssamjang sesame, green apple, scallions, and a delicate quail egg. It's Latin and Asian influence woven together without feeling forced, proving that comfort food and creativity don't have to exist separately.

The Summer Tartine was another surprise. Noble sourdough layered with stracciatella, Castelvetrano olives, Marcona almonds, ripe tomatoes, and bright lemon somehow manages to feel both rustic and refined. Chef describes it as "bold and brilliant...made for Kyla," and the description couldn't be more fitting.

Then came what may have been my favorite bite of the evening.

The Bone Marrow Poutine.

Rich foie gras gravy, grilled Ballard cheese, cotija crema, pickled pearl onions, Pecorino Toscano, and fresh chives transformed an already indulgent comfort dish into something unforgettable. Quite honestly, it's the best poutine I've ever had.

For larger groups, the Taco Board captures everything Wayward is trying to accomplish.

A massive bone-in short rib anchors the presentation alongside twelve housemade corn tortillas, borracho beans, charred avocado, pickled onions, cabbage, cebollitas, roasted peppers, and an assortment of housemade sauces. It's visually spectacular, but its origin is surprisingly humble.

Chef recalls a get together with friends where an entire roasted chicken was placed on a cutting board.  Everyone gathered around, tearing off pieces, adding sauces and sides, laughing, sharing. That memory became the inspiration for this dish - the art of gathering around food.

Perhaps that's the real story behind Wayward.

Every cocktail, every plate, every unexpected texture is an invitation to gather around the table a little longer.

For Chef Kahley, it's also something much more personal.

After navigating his own battles with alcohol addiction, he's now living sober—a transformation that has reshaped not only his life, but also his creativity. Wayward represents a new chapter, one defined by clarity, gratitude, and fearless self-expression.

It's fitting that the restaurant's name means rebellious.

Because sometimes the boldest act isn't reinventing food.

Sometimes it's reinventing yourself.