Best Of Miami® 2004 Winners
Eat & Drink
Everyone pretends to visit Everglades National Park to commune with nature. But every local knows we really go for the food -- and not the alligator sushi, either. Not far from the park's main entrance down south, the temptations for detours come from Knaus Berry Farm's sticky buns and the strawberry or key-lime milkshakes from Robert Is Here. But on the road trip out Tamiami Trail to the park's northern entrance at Shark Valley, the smoky barbecue aromas emanating from the Pit's wood cabin stop drivers more effectively than a police roadblock. Ribs are juicy, flavorful, fabulous. The double pork sandwich -- featuring mounds of what might be the best pit-cooked, pulled pork to be had south of the Carolinas, topped with crunchy sweet slaw -- is even better. Sides are also superior to most BBQ joints: tangy baked beans, lightly floured real onion rings, and to wash it down, imported Beck's beer. The eclectic redneck-to-reggae jukebox is big fun, too.
Dogma, a chic little eatery on a rapidly developing stretch of Biscayne Boulevard, is anything but pedantic and boring. The hot dogs are served up in an array of fanciful arrangements, from the health-conscious Athens (which overflows with cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, olives, and feta cheese) to the decadent Pomodoro (caked in bruschetta and feta cheese). The waitresses are friendly, the trance music piping out of the kitchen is tastefully low-key, and an array of small tables are located mere steps away from the counter. For frequent visitors, try the rest of the menu, which includes chicken and BLT sandwiches, chili, and a salad incarnation of the Athens.
Dogma, a chic little eatery on a rapidly developing stretch of Biscayne Boulevard, is anything but pedantic and boring. The hot dogs are served up in an array of fanciful arrangements, from the health-conscious Athens (which overflows with cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, olives, and feta cheese) to the decadent Pomodoro (caked in bruschetta and feta cheese). The waitresses are friendly, the trance music piping out of the kitchen is tastefully low-key, and an array of small tables are located mere steps away from the counter. For frequent visitors, try the rest of the menu, which includes chicken and BLT sandwiches, chili, and a salad incarnation of the Athens.
With this, it's a secret no longer. But truth be told, Boaters' Grill has developed a devoted following over the past few years. It is one of two concessions inside Bill Baggs Cape Florida State Park, both operated by the David Gonzalez family. First was the casual, open-air, Lighthouse Café, so named for its proximity to that Key Biscayne landmark. The similarly designed Boaters' Grill followed, and drew a more select crowd, mainly because of its location across the island, far from the beach crowds. It overlooks the tranquil No Name Harbor and offers views of Biscayne Bay and downtown Miami. But then tragedy struck: Lighthouse Café burned to the ground this past New Year's Eve. The Gonzalez family and state park officials responded by extending hours of operation for the surviving Grill. The restaurant also added tables, expanded its wine list (concentrating on Spanish, Italian, and Chilean labels), and created both a lunch and a dinner menu. Lunch or dinner, whether it's one of several paellas, lobster, ceviche, or whole fried fish, the preparation reflects the Latin flavor of the place -- and its kitchen, manned by chefs from Cuba, Peru, and the Dominican Republic. Today the Grill opens every day at 9:00 a.m. Closing hour Sunday through Wednesday is 9:00 p.m.; Thursday, Friday, and Saturday it stays open till 10:00 p.m. During daylight hours, diners must pay the park entrance fee, but after sunset there is no charge. So what's the secret? A beautiful setting, a casual and friendly atmosphere, and excellent fresh seafood at very reasonable prices. In fact Boaters' Grill easily could have taken the honors as Best Waterfront Dining, Best Outdoor Dining, or Best Seafood Restaurant. Instead we gave it an award that will be obsolete soon after you've read this.
With this, it's a secret no longer. But truth be told, Boaters' Grill has developed a devoted following over the past few years. It is one of two concessions inside Bill Baggs Cape Florida State Park, both operated by the David Gonzalez family. First was the casual, open-air, Lighthouse Café, so named for its proximity to that Key Biscayne landmark. The similarly designed Boaters' Grill followed, and drew a more select crowd, mainly because of its location across the island, far from the beach crowds. It overlooks the tranquil No Name Harbor and offers views of Biscayne Bay and downtown Miami. But then tragedy struck: Lighthouse Café burned to the ground this past New Year's Eve. The Gonzalez family and state park officials responded by extending hours of operation for the surviving Grill. The restaurant also added tables, expanded its wine list (concentrating on Spanish, Italian, and Chilean labels), and created both a lunch and a dinner menu. Lunch or dinner, whether it's one of several paellas, lobster, ceviche, or whole fried fish, the preparation reflects the Latin flavor of the place -- and its kitchen, manned by chefs from Cuba, Peru, and the Dominican Republic. Today the Grill opens every day at 9:00 a.m. Closing hour Sunday through Wednesday is 9:00 p.m.; Thursday, Friday, and Saturday it stays open till 10:00 p.m. During daylight hours, diners must pay the park entrance fee, but after sunset there is no charge. So what's the secret? A beautiful setting, a casual and friendly atmosphere, and excellent fresh seafood at very reasonable prices. In fact Boaters' Grill easily could have taken the honors as Best Waterfront Dining, Best Outdoor Dining, or Best Seafood Restaurant. Instead we gave it an award that will be obsolete soon after you've read this.
Chicken wings, before the Atkins diet revolution, were thought to be evil. Munch on them, it was believed, and as sure as the grease on your chinny chin-chin, you'd morph into fat tub. But all that has changed now. Fat ain't all that bad and Fu Manchu's version of chicken wings, fried in peanut oil, are made sans the bready, carb-loaded crust. So here's the skinny. Order the $6.85 appetizer portion of the wings. They are plentiful and served piping -- and we mean PIPING -- hot. Dip them in Fu's superspicy Chinese mustard and you're sure to clear your sinuses and probably burn off a few calories with the heat. You can enjoy your wings in this funky 1930s eatery decorated with cheesy-looking pagodas and murals of gongs and Buddhas.
Chicken wings, before the Atkins diet revolution, were thought to be evil. Munch on them, it was believed, and as sure as the grease on your chinny chin-chin, you'd morph into fat tub. But all that has changed now. Fat ain't all that bad and Fu Manchu's version of chicken wings, fried in peanut oil, are made sans the bready, carb-loaded crust. So here's the skinny. Order the $6.85 appetizer portion of the wings. They are plentiful and served piping -- and we mean PIPING -- hot. Dip them in Fu's superspicy Chinese mustard and you're sure to clear your sinuses and probably burn off a few calories with the heat. You can enjoy your wings in this funky 1930s eatery decorated with cheesy-looking pagodas and murals of gongs and Buddhas.
Despite the hordes of tourists clogging Ocean Drive -- and the tourists traps that have sprung up to serve them -- a few pockets of sanity still exist on that once fabled street. None is more treasured by brunch-seeking locals than the Front Porch Café. While your out-of-town visitors trudge off to the heart of the strip for their obligatory snapshots of the Versace mansion, grab a seat on the outdoor patio here. It's the perfect spot to tuck into a huge stack of pancakes while watching the parade of South Beach humanity traipse by. At $7.65 this meal may be a tad pricier than the fare at IHOP, but these pancakes are twice as big, twice as fluffy, and with bananas, sugar, and maple syrup on top, the ultimate in morning comfort food. If a similarly humongous plate of cinnamon-spiked challah French toast (also $7.65) still seems too self-indulgent, try the egg-white omelets ($6.55), a favorite among the buffed gay crowd that flocks here, many of whom spend more time ogling their own waistlines than those of any passersby. But whatever your tastes, in diet or dates, be sure to reward yourself with a smoothie ($3.95), or as they fashion them here, a "Front Porch Flip." It's a blend of freshly squeezed orange juice, nonfat yogurt, heaps of strawberries and bananas, and a shot of honey. Yes, dealing with Ocean Drive can be a headache-inducing trial, but with Front Porch's menu in sight, you won't mind quite as much.
Despite the hordes of tourists clogging Ocean Drive -- and the tourists traps that have sprung up to serve them -- a few pockets of sanity still exist on that once fabled street. None is more treasured by brunch-seeking locals than the Front Porch Café. While your out-of-town visitors trudge off to the heart of the strip for their obligatory snapshots of the Versace mansion, grab a seat on the outdoor patio here. It's the perfect spot to tuck into a huge stack of pancakes while watching the parade of South Beach humanity traipse by. At $7.65 this meal may be a tad pricier than the fare at IHOP, but these pancakes are twice as big, twice as fluffy, and with bananas, sugar, and maple syrup on top, the ultimate in morning comfort food. If a similarly humongous plate of cinnamon-spiked challah French toast (also $7.65) still seems too self-indulgent, try the egg-white omelets ($6.55), a favorite among the buffed gay crowd that flocks here, many of whom spend more time ogling their own waistlines than those of any passersby. But whatever your tastes, in diet or dates, be sure to reward yourself with a smoothie ($3.95), or as they fashion them here, a "Front Porch Flip." It's a blend of freshly squeezed orange juice, nonfat yogurt, heaps of strawberries and bananas, and a shot of honey. Yes, dealing with Ocean Drive can be a headache-inducing trial, but with Front Porch's menu in sight, you won't mind quite as much.
This posthumous award honors the 55-year-old Surfside institution that closed its doors May 6 after Toby and Ethyl Spector -- son and widow of store namesake Sheldon Spector, who died in 1998 -- realized they couldn't pay their bills. The Spectors had an agreement with their long-time landlord, who gave them a break on rent. But when 9501 Properties bought the building in February, they discontinued the deal. While technically not increasing the rent, Ben Grenald and his partners at 9501 effectively wiped out a priceless piece of beachside Americana when they insisted they couldn't cut the Spectors a break, even for the sake of sentiment. And at Sheldon's, the sentimental menu said it all: "No machine-made burgers made here. Just like the old days when burgers were always great." A living remnant of those selfsame old days, Sheldon's opened its doors in 1948. The linoleum lunch counter and cracked vinyl spinning stools looked like postwar America. Hundreds turned out recently for a last chance to complete the time warp by sidling up to the soda fountain and ordering a malted, a New York egg cream, or a phosphate to go with eight ounces of perfection on a toasted onion roll. There will never be another Sheldon's.
This posthumous award honors the 55-year-old Surfside institution that closed its doors May 6 after Toby and Ethyl Spector -- son and widow of store namesake Sheldon Spector, who died in 1998 -- realized they couldn't pay their bills. The Spectors had an agreement with their long-time landlord, who gave them a break on rent. But when 9501 Properties bought the building in February, they discontinued the deal. While technically not increasing the rent, Ben Grenald and his partners at 9501 effectively wiped out a priceless piece of beachside Americana when they insisted they couldn't cut the Spectors a break, even for the sake of sentiment. And at Sheldon's, the sentimental menu said it all: "No machine-made burgers made here. Just like the old days when burgers were always great." A living remnant of those selfsame old days, Sheldon's opened its doors in 1948. The linoleum lunch counter and cracked vinyl spinning stools looked like postwar America. Hundreds turned out recently for a last chance to complete the time warp by sidling up to the soda fountain and ordering a malted, a New York egg cream, or a phosphate to go with eight ounces of perfection on a toasted onion roll. There will never be another Sheldon's.
Expecting a baby? Here's a bit of advice: Call Prime One Twelve now to make reservations for the kid's college-graduation dinner. Think that's an exaggeration? This new restaurant from Nemo/Big Pink owner Myles Chefetz has been packed from about five minutes after opening in December -- and not just because it's situated in South Beach's charmingly renovated first hotel, Brown's. The real draw is the selection of USDA prime steaks, dry-aged between 21 and 28 days and priced from $26 for an eight-ounce filet mignon to $72 for a 48-ounce porterhouse for two. The six optional sauces, including an ultra-rich hollandaise, are their own draw. Side vegetable dishes are much more sophisticated than those found at most steak houses: sweet potato-vanilla bean mash, truffled four-cheese macaroni, and chili-garlic-spiked broccoli rabe, among others. Equally sophisticated are starters such as sautéed Hudson Valley foie gras with watercress, spiced pineapple, and candied ginger. Add a top-quality raw bar and numerous cooked seafood creations (seared tuna with avocado, hearts of palm, and Kumamoto oyster sauce), and this is one steak house even a noncarnivore can love.
Expecting a baby? Here's a bit of advice: Call Prime One Twelve now to make reservations for the kid's college-graduation dinner. Think that's an exaggeration? This new restaurant from Nemo/Big Pink owner Myles Chefetz has been packed from about five minutes after opening in December -- and not just because it's situated in South Beach's charmingly renovated first hotel, Brown's. The real draw is the selection of USDA prime steaks, dry-aged between 21 and 28 days and priced from $26 for an eight-ounce filet mignon to $72 for a 48-ounce porterhouse for two. The six optional sauces, including an ultra-rich hollandaise, are their own draw. Side vegetable dishes are much more sophisticated than those found at most steak houses: sweet potato-vanilla bean mash, truffled four-cheese macaroni, and chili-garlic-spiked broccoli rabe, among others. Equally sophisticated are starters such as sautéed Hudson Valley foie gras with watercress, spiced pineapple, and candied ginger. Add a top-quality raw bar and numerous cooked seafood creations (seared tuna with avocado, hearts of palm, and Kumamoto oyster sauce), and this is one steak house even a noncarnivore can love.
The chickpea is to Middle Eastern cuisine what plantains are to Caribbean food. Dietary staple and base ingredient for foundation foods such as hummus and falafel, this lowly, bland legume soaks up flavor like a sponge, and finds exquisite expression when mashed, spiced, fried, and mixed with vegetables and tahini in Pasha's falafel wrap. It's healthy and cheap ($3.50 for a substantial portion) and Pasha's will bring it to you, provided you live within range of its Miami Beach, Brickell Avenue, or Design District locations.
The chickpea is to Middle Eastern cuisine what plantains are to Caribbean food. Dietary staple and base ingredient for foundation foods such as hummus and falafel, this lowly, bland legume soaks up flavor like a sponge, and finds exquisite expression when mashed, spiced, fried, and mixed with vegetables and tahini in Pasha's falafel wrap. It's healthy and cheap ($3.50 for a substantial portion) and Pasha's will bring it to you, provided you live within range of its Miami Beach, Brickell Avenue, or Design District locations.
Norman Van Aken's eponymous restaurant has topped this category for so many years you almost wish he'd screw up just once and give someone else a shot at the gold. This past year it actually seemed possible, what with Van Aken expanding to Orlando and California, as well as opening Mundo closer to home at the Village of Merrick Park. That's spreading yourself pretty thin. At the same time, some exceptional new restaurants opened in the Gables. But Norman's still rules. Van Aken (who apparently needs no sleep) remained firmly in control of his flagship kitchen, retaining favorite old dishes while introducing several astonishing new creations. Long-time customers would become homicidal if his classic citrus/saffron-spiked creamy conch chowder disappeared from the menu. But a new, nut-rich Brazilian seafood xinxin (heaven for lobster lovers) is equally divine. Among new entrées is an irresistible, multicultural escolar a la Veracruziana, with oyster mushrooms, Creole mustard gnocchi, and a sabayon sauce flavored with Mexico's exotic huitlacoche. Maybe next year we'll introduce our own new creation: Best Restaurant in Coral Gables Other Than Norman's.
Norman Van Aken's eponymous restaurant has topped this category for so many years you almost wish he'd screw up just once and give someone else a shot at the gold. This past year it actually seemed possible, what with Van Aken expanding to Orlando and California, as well as opening Mundo closer to home at the Village of Merrick Park. That's spreading yourself pretty thin. At the same time, some exceptional new restaurants opened in the Gables. But Norman's still rules. Van Aken (who apparently needs no sleep) remained firmly in control of his flagship kitchen, retaining favorite old dishes while introducing several astonishing new creations. Long-time customers would become homicidal if his classic citrus/saffron-spiked creamy conch chowder disappeared from the menu. But a new, nut-rich Brazilian seafood xinxin (heaven for lobster lovers) is equally divine. Among new entrées is an irresistible, multicultural escolar a la Veracruziana, with oyster mushrooms, Creole mustard gnocchi, and a sabayon sauce flavored with Mexico's exotic huitlacoche. Maybe next year we'll introduce our own new creation: Best Restaurant in Coral Gables Other Than Norman's.
Whenever you have a basically Asian-themed cuisine, such as that offered at the casual, all-day Café Sambal, some clown will refuse to go along with the program, instead wandering around the menu to find the tuna melt and fries. The version served here is worth the excursion, though, as Sambal digresses from the expected grouper with a thick chunk of dolphin served with a mysteriously rich and satisfying sauce. The well-seasoned sandwich arrives with homemade fries as well as predictable but exactingly fresh lettuce, tomato, red onions, and a toasted bun. Given the setting, it's a steal at $17, which includes Café Sambal's attentive but not fawning servers and, if you sit outside, a stunning view of Biscayne Bay and the downtown skyline.
Whenever you have a basically Asian-themed cuisine, such as that offered at the casual, all-day Café Sambal, some clown will refuse to go along with the program, instead wandering around the menu to find the tuna melt and fries. The version served here is worth the excursion, though, as Sambal digresses from the expected grouper with a thick chunk of dolphin served with a mysteriously rich and satisfying sauce. The well-seasoned sandwich arrives with homemade fries as well as predictable but exactingly fresh lettuce, tomato, red onions, and a toasted bun. Given the setting, it's a steal at $17, which includes Café Sambal's attentive but not fawning servers and, if you sit outside, a stunning view of Biscayne Bay and the downtown skyline.
Miami is part of the Sunshine State. Emphasis on warm sunshine. And thanks to geography, there's no shortage of fresh seafood. One plus one equals an eatery that offers everything oceanic and atmospheric any diner could wish for. Sit outside on the kitchy, ultra-informal patio from 3:00 to 7:00 p.m. and cram your maw with fat, fresh oysters at two bits apiece. Then step inside and enjoy a tangy, chunky Peruvian ceviche or perfectly broiled snapper fillet. Menu items range from five bucks up toward $50, and each carries well the weight of its price. There are boatloads of thatched-roof, shorts-and-T-shirt joints in Miami that provide mouthwatering shrimp-fish-squid-clam-lobster-oyster fare. And there's a bouillabaisse of dark, wood-hulled, sea-supplied restaurants to enjoy. But Catch of the Day casts its net and hauls in all that is delicious from the bountiful sea.
Miami is part of the Sunshine State. Emphasis on warm sunshine. And thanks to geography, there's no shortage of fresh seafood. One plus one equals an eatery that offers everything oceanic and atmospheric any diner could wish for. Sit outside on the kitchy, ultra-informal patio from 3:00 to 7:00 p.m. and cram your maw with fat, fresh oysters at two bits apiece. Then step inside and enjoy a tangy, chunky Peruvian ceviche or perfectly broiled snapper fillet. Menu items range from five bucks up toward $50, and each carries well the weight of its price. There are boatloads of thatched-roof, shorts-and-T-shirt joints in Miami that provide mouthwatering shrimp-fish-squid-clam-lobster-oyster fare. And there's a bouillabaisse of dark, wood-hulled, sea-supplied restaurants to enjoy. But Catch of the Day casts its net and hauls in all that is delicious from the bountiful sea.
Way too many would-be beer lovers have been turned off by microbreweries. If it's not the beers that taste like soap because of poor brewing, it's the atmosphere that seems ordered from the fern bar catalogue. The Abbey, which last won Best Microbrewed Beer in 1999, refreshingly avoids both stereotypes with perfectly crafted brews served in what used to be an old dive. The beer selection is superb and changes slightly throughout the year. If you want to get really concocted, try the 12 Degree. Phew.
Way too many would-be beer lovers have been turned off by microbreweries. If it's not the beers that taste like soap because of poor brewing, it's the atmosphere that seems ordered from the fern bar catalogue. The Abbey, which last won Best Microbrewed Beer in 1999, refreshingly avoids both stereotypes with perfectly crafted brews served in what used to be an old dive. The beer selection is superb and changes slightly throughout the year. If you want to get really concocted, try the 12 Degree. Phew.
At this champagne lounge, the food specialty is caviar -- a problem because procuring Caspian caviar has been difficult for years, ever since the Soviet Union's dissolution resulted in phenomenally increased, unpoliced poaching and black-marketing. A lack of quality control has resulted in uneven goods from most suppliers, but Petrossian's caviar reliably tastes as it should, and that's what Flute serves. Beluga here is properly soft and delicate-skinned but not mushy; osetra is richly fruity and nutty; and bracing, briny sevruga can be expected to produce that playful, pronounced pop. But there's another problem. Since Petrossian's caviar retails for two to three times the price of less trustworthy roes, dinner for one connoisseur would run somewhere between $400 and $600. That's not counting the champagne. A bottle of Moët & Chandon's $65 brut rosé would be festive; the rich 1990 Dom Perignon, at $290, would be downright profound. And then there's dessert, maybe half a dozen handmade, ganache-coated chocolates from Paris's La Maison du Chocolat, at $2.50 each. So you're looking at a tab, with tax and tip, that could range from $600 to $1100. But you're not paying. Not a problem.
At this champagne lounge, the food specialty is caviar -- a problem because procuring Caspian caviar has been difficult for years, ever since the Soviet Union's dissolution resulted in phenomenally increased, unpoliced poaching and black-marketing. A lack of quality control has resulted in uneven goods from most suppliers, but Petrossian's caviar reliably tastes as it should, and that's what Flute serves. Beluga here is properly soft and delicate-skinned but not mushy; osetra is richly fruity and nutty; and bracing, briny sevruga can be expected to produce that playful, pronounced pop. But there's another problem. Since Petrossian's caviar retails for two to three times the price of less trustworthy roes, dinner for one connoisseur would run somewhere between $400 and $600. That's not counting the champagne. A bottle of Moët & Chandon's $65 brut rosé would be festive; the rich 1990 Dom Perignon, at $290, would be downright profound. And then there's dessert, maybe half a dozen handmade, ganache-coated chocolates from Paris's La Maison du Chocolat, at $2.50 each. So you're looking at a tab, with tax and tip, that could range from $600 to $1100. But you're not paying. Not a problem.
There's nothing Cuban about Cuban coffee. The beans are grown in Brazil or Colombia, the coffee machine is made in Italy, and the person who serves it to you from a sidewalk cafeteria window is most likely going to be from Nicaragua, Argentina, or anywhere else but Cuba. The saying holds true for this year's winner, Chilean-owned and operated Charlotte Bakery; hands down, the best cafecito in Miami. However you order it from colada to cortadito, the friendly folk at Charlotte serve it hot, bold, and sweetened the way you like it. You can enjoy your tasita with their homemade biscotti or empanadas, while facing a mirrored wall in Charlotte's window alcove. The mirror allows you to watch the dregs of humanity stroll along Washington Avenue unobserved. After a quick jolt of caffeine you'll soon be recharged and ready to join the masses on the hot pavement.
There's nothing Cuban about Cuban coffee. The beans are grown in Brazil or Colombia, the coffee machine is made in Italy, and the person who serves it to you from a sidewalk cafeteria window is most likely going to be from Nicaragua, Argentina, or anywhere else but Cuba. The saying holds true for this year's winner, Chilean-owned and operated Charlotte Bakery; hands down, the best cafecito in Miami. However you order it from colada to cortadito, the friendly folk at Charlotte serve it hot, bold, and sweetened the way you like it. You can enjoy your tasita with their homemade biscotti or empanadas, while facing a mirrored wall in Charlotte's window alcove. The mirror allows you to watch the dregs of humanity stroll along Washington Avenue unobserved. After a quick jolt of caffeine you'll soon be recharged and ready to join the masses on the hot pavement.
Enmeshed in legal disputes, bankruptcy, and buckets of bad blood, Billboardlive, the lavish space on Ocean Drive devoted to presenting live music and keeping folks drinking and dancing, seemed for some time to be as good as dead. That is until Barton G, Miami's high lama of happenings, came to the rescue in late 2003, transforming the ailing club into a many-roomed party palace for the serious social set. Redecorated in a sleek modern style and christened FifteenOOne Barton G, the three-level, more-than-25,000-square-foot venue offers seven separate areas that allow up to 1800 guests to celebrate just about anything, as long as it's something that's in style. The million-dollar, state-of-the-art lighting, sound, and audiovisual systems have been utilized for concerts and shows. So far celebs such as Cyndi Lauper, Eartha Kitt, and Joan Rivers have graced the main room, occasionally transformed into a sophisticated cabaret/ dinner theater complete with catering by none other than ... yep, Barton G. To feel like a star yourself, throw a bash at this sumptuous full-service locale.
Enmeshed in legal disputes, bankruptcy, and buckets of bad blood, Billboardlive, the lavish space on Ocean Drive devoted to presenting live music and keeping folks drinking and dancing, seemed for some time to be as good as dead. That is until Barton G, Miami's high lama of happenings, came to the rescue in late 2003, transforming the ailing club into a many-roomed party palace for the serious social set. Redecorated in a sleek modern style and christened FifteenOOne Barton G, the three-level, more-than-25,000-square-foot venue offers seven separate areas that allow up to 1800 guests to celebrate just about anything, as long as it's something that's in style. The million-dollar, state-of-the-art lighting, sound, and audiovisual systems have been utilized for concerts and shows. So far celebs such as Cyndi Lauper, Eartha Kitt, and Joan Rivers have graced the main room, occasionally transformed into a sophisticated cabaret/ dinner theater complete with catering by none other than ... yep, Barton G. To feel like a star yourself, throw a bash at this sumptuous full-service locale.
There are a few of these fondue franchises across the country and a new one at 15700 Biscayne Blvd., but we here in the Magic City already have the biggest, most expensive one. A one-million-dollar, freestanding building houses us as we indulge in the guiltiest of pleasures -- chocolate. Imagine a pot filled with white chocolate, milk chocolate, and marshmallow fluff, slowly simmering on a burner right at your table. The waitress drops a shot of raspberry chambord into the pot and hands you a plate of cheesecake, fresh strawberries, pineapples, brownies, bananas, pound cake, cherries, and a fork. This is Chocolate Heaven. It's called a Chambord Kiss, and although there are variations on the menu, chances are the servers have never heard of it. This is a special chocolate reserved for those guests who take the expert advice of managing owner Calvin Gissendanner. Even though he seems a little uptight, the man sure does know his chocolate fondue and he doesn't mind people coming in just for dessert. A small serving for two is $14. The regular size, which serves up to four, is $28. The restaurant also sells jars of their milk, dark, and white chocolates for the home fondue enthusiast. Reservations are suggested.
There are a few of these fondue franchises across the country and a new one at 15700 Biscayne Blvd., but we here in the Magic City already have the biggest, most expensive one. A one-million-dollar, freestanding building houses us as we indulge in the guiltiest of pleasures -- chocolate. Imagine a pot filled with white chocolate, milk chocolate, and marshmallow fluff, slowly simmering on a burner right at your table. The waitress drops a shot of raspberry chambord into the pot and hands you a plate of cheesecake, fresh strawberries, pineapples, brownies, bananas, pound cake, cherries, and a fork. This is Chocolate Heaven. It's called a Chambord Kiss, and although there are variations on the menu, chances are the servers have never heard of it. This is a special chocolate reserved for those guests who take the expert advice of managing owner Calvin Gissendanner. Even though he seems a little uptight, the man sure does know his chocolate fondue and he doesn't mind people coming in just for dessert. A small serving for two is $14. The regular size, which serves up to four, is $28. The restaurant also sells jars of their milk, dark, and white chocolates for the home fondue enthusiast. Reservations are suggested.
Maybe it's the lack of cold, dank weather, but Miami suffers from an unfortunate dearth of coffeehouses, at least the kind without corporate headquarters based in Seattle. And while there are plenty of cafecito windows and stop-and-gulps for locals to get their caffeine fix, places like Luna Star Café embody the true spirit of what a coffeehouse is supposed to be. It's all about community, and if you don't know the name of the person at the table next to you when you walk in, you will when you leave. Credit owner Alexis Sanfield and barista Karla for creating such a homey vibe in this cozy North Miami café, along with a mean cappuccino. Oh, and they host one of the best acoustic-music scenes in town, too.
Maybe it's the lack of cold, dank weather, but Miami suffers from an unfortunate dearth of coffeehouses, at least the kind without corporate headquarters based in Seattle. And while there are plenty of cafecito windows and stop-and-gulps for locals to get their caffeine fix, places like Luna Star Café embody the true spirit of what a coffeehouse is supposed to be. It's all about community, and if you don't know the name of the person at the table next to you when you walk in, you will when you leave. Credit owner Alexis Sanfield and barista Karla for creating such a homey vibe in this cozy North Miami café, along with a mean cappuccino. Oh, and they host one of the best acoustic-music scenes in town, too.
The Rosebriar Café is tucked into an old Miami house on a side street off Biscayne Boulevard. It's decorated like a Victorian tea parlor. Although the service is often slow, the food, by chef John Stump, is always worth the wait -- especially the pumpkin soup. It's a nice setting for both a relaxing lunch and for the minor social dramas that unfold regularly between the gay couple who run the place and the guys who staff it. For instance, Mat is always convinced there aren't enough lace doilies and rose petals, while Carlos is forever trying to find ways to get hot young women to frequent the place. One such creative attempt was to offer a list of cocktails whose primary ingredient is sake. This was done because the café lacks the license necessary to offer hard liquor. So the Rosebriar technically abided by the law by mixing potent drinks made with sake (it's classified as a wine), usually in neon colors and Sex and the City-worthy flavors such as appletinis and the ubiquitous cosmos. Our favorite is the mojito, a delight of green minty tartness.
The Rosebriar Café is tucked into an old Miami house on a side street off Biscayne Boulevard. It's decorated like a Victorian tea parlor. Although the service is often slow, the food, by chef John Stump, is always worth the wait -- especially the pumpkin soup. It's a nice setting for both a relaxing lunch and for the minor social dramas that unfold regularly between the gay couple who run the place and the guys who staff it. For instance, Mat is always convinced there aren't enough lace doilies and rose petals, while Carlos is forever trying to find ways to get hot young women to frequent the place. One such creative attempt was to offer a list of cocktails whose primary ingredient is sake. This was done because the café lacks the license necessary to offer hard liquor. So the Rosebriar technically abided by the law by mixing potent drinks made with sake (it's classified as a wine), usually in neon colors and Sex and the City-worthy flavors such as appletinis and the ubiquitous cosmos. Our favorite is the mojito, a delight of green minty tartness.
Urban myth has it that on every corner up North there's a bar waiting to warm up its shivering patrons with alcoholic libations. Wouldn't it make similar sense for every block in Miami to have an ice cream shop waiting to shiver up its customers instead? Is opening a beer bottle so much easier than scooping out Rocky Road? The folks at Cold Stone Creamery sure don't make it seem that way. This rapidly growing chain is making inroads into the competitive Miami market with some remarkable innovations. Ice cream creations are made to order on a frozen granite slab. Ingredients are freshly mixed into whatever base you select. If you like the results, tip your chef and listen to the entire crew belt out a song of praise for you. Imagine auditioning for an afterschool job here. Brrr.
Urban myth has it that on every corner up North there's a bar waiting to warm up its shivering patrons with alcoholic libations. Wouldn't it make similar sense for every block in Miami to have an ice cream shop waiting to shiver up its customers instead? Is opening a beer bottle so much easier than scooping out Rocky Road? The folks at Cold Stone Creamery sure don't make it seem that way. This rapidly growing chain is making inroads into the competitive Miami market with some remarkable innovations. Ice cream creations are made to order on a frozen granite slab. Ingredients are freshly mixed into whatever base you select. If you like the results, tip your chef and listen to the entire crew belt out a song of praise for you. Imagine auditioning for an afterschool job here. Brrr.
What Guayacan (Best of Miami winner in 1996) lacks in atmosphere, it more than makes up for with delicious food at reasonable prices. Highly recommended is the superb churrasco steak (charbroiled tenderloin) with gallo pinto and red beans and rice. You'd expect this quality of beef at a fancier restaurant -- with fancier prices. Also notable is a collection of traditional appetizers that includes such delights as the quesadilla-like repocheta, taquitos, and fried cheese. Remember that Nicaragua is bordered by both the Pacific and the Caribbean, so there are plenty of excellent choices for seafood lovers. The proper way to wash down these or any of the other traditional Nicaraguan foods is, of course, with a bottle of Toña beer.
What Guayacan (Best of Miami winner in 1996) lacks in atmosphere, it more than makes up for with delicious food at reasonable prices. Highly recommended is the superb churrasco steak (charbroiled tenderloin) with gallo pinto and red beans and rice. You'd expect this quality of beef at a fancier restaurant -- with fancier prices. Also notable is a collection of traditional appetizers that includes such delights as the quesadilla-like repocheta, taquitos, and fried cheese. Remember that Nicaragua is bordered by both the Pacific and the Caribbean, so there are plenty of excellent choices for seafood lovers. The proper way to wash down these or any of the other traditional Nicaraguan foods is, of course, with a bottle of Toña beer.
While some of the tacos (cow brain and pork intestine) on this menu would make good practice for potential Fear Factor contestants, Taquerias El Mexicano does offer a delectable array of tacos for the average eater, such as chicken chunks, carnitas, picadillo, and seasoned pork. For breakfast, we highly recommend the huevos rancheros taco. Served in crisp, golden brown corn tortillas or savory soft flour wraps in rojo, verde, enchilada, or cream sauces, these tacos will make you forget about running for the border. Instead you'll just venture out to Calle Ocho.
While some of the tacos (cow brain and pork intestine) on this menu would make good practice for potential Fear Factor contestants, Taquerias El Mexicano does offer a delectable array of tacos for the average eater, such as chicken chunks, carnitas, picadillo, and seasoned pork. For breakfast, we highly recommend the huevos rancheros taco. Served in crisp, golden brown corn tortillas or savory soft flour wraps in rojo, verde, enchilada, or cream sauces, these tacos will make you forget about running for the border. Instead you'll just venture out to Calle Ocho.
Remember the old adage, fake it till you make it? Well, the folks over at Natural Chicken Grill really take it to heart. It's not enough that these restaurants bear an uncanny resemblance to Chicken Kitchen, but on their Website they blatantly and falsely claim to have won this award last year. For shame, Natural Chicken Grill, but hear hear on the clairvoyance thing. If they want it that much, who are we to get in the way? Besides, it really is good for you. Both Natural Chicken Grill and Chicken Kitchen offer food prepared in accordance with the American Heart Association. That means less fat and cholesterol, and fewer calories. If we are to bestow this prestigious accolade to the Grill, however, we would be remiss in not hooking up their obvious inspiration and doppelgänger, Chicken Kitchen. Seriously, aside from the name, what the hell is the difference between a "Chop Chop" and a "Natural Chop"? We don't know, but for riding the coattails of the healthy chicken phenomenon, mad props to Natural Chicken Grill, bringing Miami yet another meaning to the words "chop shop."
Remember the old adage, fake it till you make it? Well, the folks over at Natural Chicken Grill really take it to heart. It's not enough that these restaurants bear an uncanny resemblance to Chicken Kitchen, but on their Website they blatantly and falsely claim to have won this award last year. For shame, Natural Chicken Grill, but hear hear on the clairvoyance thing. If they want it that much, who are we to get in the way? Besides, it really is good for you. Both Natural Chicken Grill and Chicken Kitchen offer food prepared in accordance with the American Heart Association. That means less fat and cholesterol, and fewer calories. If we are to bestow this prestigious accolade to the Grill, however, we would be remiss in not hooking up their obvious inspiration and doppelgänger, Chicken Kitchen. Seriously, aside from the name, what the hell is the difference between a "Chop Chop" and a "Natural Chop"? We don't know, but for riding the coattails of the healthy chicken phenomenon, mad props to Natural Chicken Grill, bringing Miami yet another meaning to the words "chop shop."
From the "duh" file: This 90-year-old institution qualifies as one of America's most famous restaurants, with primo food, a vast and varied menu, super service, and a pleasantly hectic ambiance. But only a tourist would endure the notorious wait for a seating. From the "beat the system" file: Visit this annex next door to the main restaurant and force yourself to decide from a roomful of eye-popping, mouthwatering works of edible art. Stone crabs, of course. But maybe also some squid salad, an overstuffed sandwich, some lobster ravioli, and the flourless chocolate cake. No, the key lime pie. Um, those cookies are huge. Carry your bounty two-tenths of a mile south to South Pointe Park, spread a blanket on the grass, take in the spectacular aquamarine view, and -- the rest doesn't require a file.
From the "duh" file: This 90-year-old institution qualifies as one of America's most famous restaurants, with primo food, a vast and varied menu, super service, and a pleasantly hectic ambiance. But only a tourist would endure the notorious wait for a seating. From the "beat the system" file: Visit this annex next door to the main restaurant and force yourself to decide from a roomful of eye-popping, mouthwatering works of edible art. Stone crabs, of course. But maybe also some squid salad, an overstuffed sandwich, some lobster ravioli, and the flourless chocolate cake. No, the key lime pie. Um, those cookies are huge. Carry your bounty two-tenths of a mile south to South Pointe Park, spread a blanket on the grass, take in the spectacular aquamarine view, and -- the rest doesn't require a file.
Anyone who has spent some time in Spain will no doubt have a thing or two to say about the Spanish chispa (which can translate very idiomatically to wit, charm, or drunkenness). That warm-blooded verve mixed with an unmatched zest for life can at times so infect the very fiber of our being that its effects manifest in the form of a hissing sound when pronouncing words such as Barcelona. Well, get ready to start hissing (in a good way) when you taste the tapas, and if you're lucky, the dancers at Casa Panza. Let's just say they're hot -- the dancers, that is. The tapas, like the Manchego cheese, are in fact cold and just as tasty. Late-night urban Spanish suppers often consist of cold, canned, or room-temperature tapas, so this service is most continental. Hand-rolled cigars and a wine room complement your tapas of choice, and that's just the beginning. The real fun at this Little Havana refuge happens on the weekends once the sun goes down. The music takes control of señoritas in flamenco shoes, and as soon as they start to gyrate, guests will find themselves castaneting their night away.
Anyone who has spent some time in Spain will no doubt have a thing or two to say about the Spanish chispa (which can translate very idiomatically to wit, charm, or drunkenness). That warm-blooded verve mixed with an unmatched zest for life can at times so infect the very fiber of our being that its effects manifest in the form of a hissing sound when pronouncing words such as Barcelona. Well, get ready to start hissing (in a good way) when you taste the tapas, and if you're lucky, the dancers at Casa Panza. Let's just say they're hot -- the dancers, that is. The tapas, like the Manchego cheese, are in fact cold and just as tasty. Late-night urban Spanish suppers often consist of cold, canned, or room-temperature tapas, so this service is most continental. Hand-rolled cigars and a wine room complement your tapas of choice, and that's just the beginning. The real fun at this Little Havana refuge happens on the weekends once the sun goes down. The music takes control of señoritas in flamenco shoes, and as soon as they start to gyrate, guests will find themselves castaneting their night away.
Though this indoor/outdoor restaurant has been open for a decade, it's still something of an insider's secret, likely owing to its hidden location deep inside Matheson Hammock Park. The first pleasant surprise comes at the front gate, when you tell the guard you're going to the Red Fish Grill and are waved through without forking over the four-dollar admission fee for the park and marina. At the end of the narrow winding road is a second pleasant surprise -- plenty of free parking. Yet another pleasant surprise is the historic coral-rock structure housing the restaurant. Inside, the dining room is attractive but not notable. Instead reserve a table on the lush and romantic waterfront patio, which abuts the park's saltwater swimming lagoon. (Changing rooms are located next door if you should feel like a dip before dining.) The restaurant's seafood-oriented menu frankly does not match the spectacular setting. But the simply cooked fish is fresh (request it slightly underdone), or as an alternative, there are enough tasty starters to cobble together a good grazing meal. Perfectly fried shrimp with lemon-garlic aioli; a very savory Mediterranean salad with goat cheese and cashews. Decent food, swaying tropical vegetation, Biscayne Bay spreading out before you, a long view back toward downtown Miami -- it's a combination that can't be topped.
Though this indoor/outdoor restaurant has been open for a decade, it's still something of an insider's secret, likely owing to its hidden location deep inside Matheson Hammock Park. The first pleasant surprise comes at the front gate, when you tell the guard you're going to the Red Fish Grill and are waved through without forking over the four-dollar admission fee for the park and marina. At the end of the narrow winding road is a second pleasant surprise -- plenty of free parking. Yet another pleasant surprise is the historic coral-rock structure housing the restaurant. Inside, the dining room is attractive but not notable. Instead reserve a table on the lush and romantic waterfront patio, which abuts the park's saltwater swimming lagoon. (Changing rooms are located next door if you should feel like a dip before dining.) The restaurant's seafood-oriented menu frankly does not match the spectacular setting. But the simply cooked fish is fresh (request it slightly underdone), or as an alternative, there are enough tasty starters to cobble together a good grazing meal. Perfectly fried shrimp with lemon-garlic aioli; a very savory Mediterranean salad with goat cheese and cashews. Decent food, swaying tropical vegetation, Biscayne Bay spreading out before you, a long view back toward downtown Miami -- it's a combination that can't be topped.
Almost twenty years ago Mark Zaslavsky and Mark Gelman opened what has become one of the finest caviar businesses anywhere. Except it isn't one business. There's the exceptional retail section (known by insiders as "the Russian store," although it caters to many Eastern Europeans and anyone else with good taste and the money to afford delicate delectables). There's a wholesale department. There's the importing business, which involves sending representatives to Russia on a regular basis to inspect the fisheries, processors, and dealers in an effort to assure that Marky's acquires only the finest fish eggs in the world. There's the online business. And when the sturgeon population began sinking a few years ago, the Marks built their own fish farm in a small north-central Florida town called Pierson. The company requires DNA tests on each batch of roe, and has every certification imaginable. Beyond that, Marky's also offers high-grade foie gras (duck and goose), smoked salmon (three types), truffles, mushrooms, cheeses, and so on. (Kosher versions of most items are available.) But the sticky little eggs are the heart of the Marks' operation: the famous osetra; small, grayish sevruga; salmon; paddlefish .... Most of the roe comes from a giant fish farm in the delta of the Volga River. The most important undertaking, according to the owners, is what they call "restoration of the world's resources of sturgeon." Hence the aquaculture operation upstate. When it comes to the highest-quality, most carefully controlled caviar, Marky's can't be topped. They do everything but lay the eggs themselves.
Almost twenty years ago Mark Zaslavsky and Mark Gelman opened what has become one of the finest caviar businesses anywhere. Except it isn't one business. There's the exceptional retail section (known by insiders as "the Russian store," although it caters to many Eastern Europeans and anyone else with good taste and the money to afford delicate delectables). There's a wholesale department. There's the importing business, which involves sending representatives to Russia on a regular basis to inspect the fisheries, processors, and dealers in an effort to assure that Marky's acquires only the finest fish eggs in the world. There's the online business. And when the sturgeon population began sinking a few years ago, the Marks built their own fish farm in a small north-central Florida town called Pierson. The company requires DNA tests on each batch of roe, and has every certification imaginable. Beyond that, Marky's also offers high-grade foie gras (duck and goose), smoked salmon (three types), truffles, mushrooms, cheeses, and so on. (Kosher versions of most items are available.) But the sticky little eggs are the heart of the Marks' operation: the famous osetra; small, grayish sevruga; salmon; paddlefish .... Most of the roe comes from a giant fish farm in the delta of the Volga River. The most important undertaking, according to the owners, is what they call "restoration of the world's resources of sturgeon." Hence the aquaculture operation upstate. When it comes to the highest-quality, most carefully controlled caviar, Marky's can't be topped. They do everything but lay the eggs themselves.
It's 3:00 a.m. It's South Beach. You're certainly not ready to call it a night, but you're famished. Where to go? It must be Cafeteria, which is not a cafeteria at all but a casual resto/lounge with knockout cocktails and food based on American diner classics -- but seriously and creatively upgraded. Service can be snippy, but the supersize New Bedford lobster roll alone is worth enduring some attitude. Other terrific items include a cornmeal-crusted catfish po' boy (moist and meaty fillets of mild fish on a Kaiser roll with horseradish remoulade on the side and homemade potato chips), and macaroni and cheese (soft but not mushy elbow pasta in a mellow cheddar/fontina sauce, quite as satisfying as fancier versions costing two or three times as much). And breakfast -- which always tastes better at 3:00 a.m. -- is excellent here, too.
It's 3:00 a.m. It's South Beach. You're certainly not ready to call it a night, but you're famished. Where to go? It must be Cafeteria, which is not a cafeteria at all but a casual resto/lounge with knockout cocktails and food based on American diner classics -- but seriously and creatively upgraded. Service can be snippy, but the supersize New Bedford lobster roll alone is worth enduring some attitude. Other terrific items include a cornmeal-crusted catfish po' boy (moist and meaty fillets of mild fish on a Kaiser roll with horseradish remoulade on the side and homemade potato chips), and macaroni and cheese (soft but not mushy elbow pasta in a mellow cheddar/fontina sauce, quite as satisfying as fancier versions costing two or three times as much). And breakfast -- which always tastes better at 3:00 a.m. -- is excellent here, too.
Aziza Yuself's café has been open for five years, and while the place is small and the décor low-key, there is one telltale sign that points to the excellence of the cuisine: Brazilians hang out there. Wander into Varanda's in the middle of the day and you'll likely find some of North Beach's swelling Brazilian populace watching Brazilian TV and speaking lilting Brazilian Portuguese. The food is all good, but for a real treat try the excellent muqueca de peixe, fish perfectly simmered in a coconut sauce. Varanda's is only open from noon to 6:00 p.m. on Sundays but it's a good spot for late dinners the rest of the week, when it is open from noon until 10:00 p.m.
Aziza Yuself's café has been open for five years, and while the place is small and the décor low-key, there is one telltale sign that points to the excellence of the cuisine: Brazilians hang out there. Wander into Varanda's in the middle of the day and you'll likely find some of North Beach's swelling Brazilian populace watching Brazilian TV and speaking lilting Brazilian Portuguese. The food is all good, but for a real treat try the excellent muqueca de peixe, fish perfectly simmered in a coconut sauce. Varanda's is only open from noon to 6:00 p.m. on Sundays but it's a good spot for late dinners the rest of the week, when it is open from noon until 10:00 p.m.
Julio Bertoni is a third-generation Italo-Argentine ice cream maker. So he knows what he's doing. From the fresh ingredients -- he buys his fruit from the gourmet Epicure market -- to what he calls his secret recipe, Bertoni and his workers maintain strict quality control as they squeeze out creamy, smooth tubs of chocolate roche (hints of hazelnut), dulce de leche granizado, chocolate suizo (chocolate chunks), and Bertoni's personal favorite: Super Sambayon, from the Italian zabaglione, a dessert of egg yolks, cream, and Marsala wine. All his gelatos are made on location. Cones range from $2 to $4. Tubs are also available in sizes ranging from 1.65 pounds ($13.50) to 3.3 pounds ($23).
Julio Bertoni is a third-generation Italo-Argentine ice cream maker. So he knows what he's doing. From the fresh ingredients -- he buys his fruit from the gourmet Epicure market -- to what he calls his secret recipe, Bertoni and his workers maintain strict quality control as they squeeze out creamy, smooth tubs of chocolate roche (hints of hazelnut), dulce de leche granizado, chocolate suizo (chocolate chunks), and Bertoni's personal favorite: Super Sambayon, from the Italian zabaglione, a dessert of egg yolks, cream, and Marsala wine. All his gelatos are made on location. Cones range from $2 to $4. Tubs are also available in sizes ranging from 1.65 pounds ($13.50) to 3.3 pounds ($23).
Since the preservative practice of "cooking" seafood with a salt/herb/chili/citrus marinade most likely originated in Latin America, centuries ago, there are naturally many restaurants in Miami that serve good ceviches. But let's face it: Douglas Rodriguez wrote the book. That's The Great Ceviche Book, published just last year -- which is also when OLA (Of Latin America) opened, with ten ceviches on the menu. Each is influenced by a different locale on the globe -- Thailand in the case of baby sweet conch ceviche with coconut water, ginger, and coconut gelee; Spain inspired paella ceviche mixto with saffron-lobster sauce and Valencia rice puffs; characteristic additions of tomatoes and popcorn characterize Ecuadorian shrimp ceviche -- but the main inspiration comes from the chef's unique vision. Rodriguez sees ceviche as not just a small snack but a whole culinary frontier awaiting discovery. Numerous OLA regulars, who ignore the menu's many other temptations to head straight for the ceviche section on visit after visit, obviously agree.
Since the preservative practice of "cooking" seafood with a salt/herb/chili/citrus marinade most likely originated in Latin America, centuries ago, there are naturally many restaurants in Miami that serve good ceviches. But let's face it: Douglas Rodriguez wrote the book. That's The Great Ceviche Book, published just last year -- which is also when OLA (Of Latin America) opened, with ten ceviches on the menu. Each is influenced by a different locale on the globe -- Thailand in the case of baby sweet conch ceviche with coconut water, ginger, and coconut gelee; Spain inspired paella ceviche mixto with saffron-lobster sauce and Valencia rice puffs; characteristic additions of tomatoes and popcorn characterize Ecuadorian shrimp ceviche -- but the main inspiration comes from the chef's unique vision. Rodriguez sees ceviche as not just a small snack but a whole culinary frontier awaiting discovery. Numerous OLA regulars, who ignore the menu's many other temptations to head straight for the ceviche section on visit after visit, obviously agree.
Place St. Michel is an old (by Miami standards), European-style hotel built around the time Coral Gables was master-planned into existence as the City Beautiful. The environs inside the ivy-covered walls are both lush and elegant enough to suggest a miniature version of the Pontchartrain Hotel in New Orleans -- and promise a similar New World French decadence. A romantic mood envelops you as you move through the gorgeous lobby, with its wood-paneled walls, Queen Anne chairs, plus Deco touches and flowers. Next to the restaurant, a pianist plays softly. We could go on, but suffice it to say that if you can't have an intimate interlude here, you've got bigger problems.
Place St. Michel is an old (by Miami standards), European-style hotel built around the time Coral Gables was master-planned into existence as the City Beautiful. The environs inside the ivy-covered walls are both lush and elegant enough to suggest a miniature version of the Pontchartrain Hotel in New Orleans -- and promise a similar New World French decadence. A romantic mood envelops you as you move through the gorgeous lobby, with its wood-paneled walls, Queen Anne chairs, plus Deco touches and flowers. Next to the restaurant, a pianist plays softly. We could go on, but suffice it to say that if you can't have an intimate interlude here, you've got bigger problems.
In a neighborhood where Jamaican curries outnumber most other culinary options, Asia Market stocks a fine assortment of scotch bonnet-based hot sauces and sweet tamarind by the pound as a concession to the local populace. But the real treasure in this store is the extensive selection of all kinds of Asian goods and foods. Kimonos, incense, tea sets, and ornamental dragons are all available, along with Chinese eggplant, bok choy, and every noodle imaginable. The prices are as excellent as the selection: $1.70 gets you a pound of pickled ginger, and 99 cents buys a pound of bok choy. "We try to stock all kinds of food, and we have a really good selection of Asian food," says Anthony Verrilli, son of store owners Ann and Ralph Verrilli. Ann, a native of Vietnam, opened the store with Ralph in 1982. "Everybody comes here," Verrilli says. "White people, black people, Hispanic, Asian ..."
In a neighborhood where Jamaican curries outnumber most other culinary options, Asia Market stocks a fine assortment of scotch bonnet-based hot sauces and sweet tamarind by the pound as a concession to the local populace. But the real treasure in this store is the extensive selection of all kinds of Asian goods and foods. Kimonos, incense, tea sets, and ornamental dragons are all available, along with Chinese eggplant, bok choy, and every noodle imaginable. The prices are as excellent as the selection: $1.70 gets you a pound of pickled ginger, and 99 cents buys a pound of bok choy. "We try to stock all kinds of food, and we have a really good selection of Asian food," says Anthony Verrilli, son of store owners Ann and Ralph Verrilli. Ann, a native of Vietnam, opened the store with Ralph in 1982. "Everybody comes here," Verrilli says. "White people, black people, Hispanic, Asian ..."
Big Pink doesn't look like a diner, but the menu contains all the comfort-food classics you'd find (or hope to find) in a world-class diner, even if Big Pink's versions are definitely more Reform than Orthodox. From a list of hefty ten-ounce burgers, the upgraded Big Mac (called the Pink Daddy Mack) is two beef patties, lettuce, tomato, onion, pickle, and pink sauce on a homemade brioche bun. Fries are hand cut, and you can get sweet-potato or polenta fries as well as standard potato -- with homemade spicy ketchup. The tuna sandwich features a soy-glazed yellowfin tuna steak, cooked medium rare, with wasabi mayo. Steak is a filet mignon. Breakfasts, served all day as expected at a diner, range from normal bacon and eggs to the Hollywood (polenta fries topped with bacon, poached eggs, cheese sauce, and fresh basil). "TV dinners" have homemade food in those compartmentalized trays, which are stainless steel, not plastic. And since Big Pink is part of Myles Chefetz's South Pointe restaurant empire, Big Pink's desserts are created by Nemo pastry chef Hedy Goldsmith -- meaning that red velvet cake, Elvis's favorite Old South dessert, is far more heavenly than any version ever served up to the King.
Big Pink doesn't look like a diner, but the menu contains all the comfort-food classics you'd find (or hope to find) in a world-class diner, even if Big Pink's versions are definitely more Reform than Orthodox. From a list of hefty ten-ounce burgers, the upgraded Big Mac (called the Pink Daddy Mack) is two beef patties, lettuce, tomato, onion, pickle, and pink sauce on a homemade brioche bun. Fries are hand cut, and you can get sweet-potato or polenta fries as well as standard potato -- with homemade spicy ketchup. The tuna sandwich features a soy-glazed yellowfin tuna steak, cooked medium rare, with wasabi mayo. Steak is a filet mignon. Breakfasts, served all day as expected at a diner, range from normal bacon and eggs to the Hollywood (polenta fries topped with bacon, poached eggs, cheese sauce, and fresh basil). "TV dinners" have homemade food in those compartmentalized trays, which are stainless steel, not plastic. And since Big Pink is part of Myles Chefetz's South Pointe restaurant empire, Big Pink's desserts are created by Nemo pastry chef Hedy Goldsmith -- meaning that red velvet cake, Elvis's favorite Old South dessert, is far more heavenly than any version ever served up to the King.
Puerto Sagua, an all-night Cuban diner, is a sort of refuge from the South Beach scene (and has been for 35 years, since long before there was a South Beach scene). Need a respite from all that sunshine and silicone? Cool off in Puerto Sagua and grab a cheap lunch. Need to fortify your stomach before a 4:00 a.m. drive home? Get a medianoche, or better yet, a bowl of excellent black bean soup. For $2.25, you get a cup of thick, garlicky flavor. The recipe is basic: onions, green peppers, garlic, cumin, and black pepper are added to the beans to make a tasty and filling appetizer. Or make it a meal, for $3.50 a bowl.
Puerto Sagua, an all-night Cuban diner, is a sort of refuge from the South Beach scene (and has been for 35 years, since long before there was a South Beach scene). Need a respite from all that sunshine and silicone? Cool off in Puerto Sagua and grab a cheap lunch. Need to fortify your stomach before a 4:00 a.m. drive home? Get a medianoche, or better yet, a bowl of excellent black bean soup. For $2.25, you get a cup of thick, garlicky flavor. The recipe is basic: onions, green peppers, garlic, cumin, and black pepper are added to the beans to make a tasty and filling appetizer. Or make it a meal, for $3.50 a bowl.
His name is Romeo, and he'll be taking your reservation for this evening, and greeting you at the door, and introducing the cuisine, and preparing your prix-fixe six-course meal. So naturally the place would be called Romeo's Café, and the creatively prepared, exquisite northern Italian cuisine is a winner at this Coral Way eatery. The set menu is tweaked for diners' dietary preferences or restrictions, but otherwise you'll be happy to sit back and enjoy the Romeo culinary ride as course after course arrives with delicious anticipation. At $65 per person (excluding wine), it's considered expensive, but for the experience it's a steal.
His name is Romeo, and he'll be taking your reservation for this evening, and greeting you at the door, and introducing the cuisine, and preparing your prix-fixe six-course meal. So naturally the place would be called Romeo's Café, and the creatively prepared, exquisite northern Italian cuisine is a winner at this Coral Way eatery. The set menu is tweaked for diners' dietary preferences or restrictions, but otherwise you'll be happy to sit back and enjoy the Romeo culinary ride as course after course arrives with delicious anticipation. At $65 per person (excluding wine), it's considered expensive, but for the experience it's a steal.
Patriots might be disappointed to know the French didn't invent French fries, so the whole wartime freedom fries propaganda campaign was a waste, erroneously disparaging an innocent food. The word "french" in fries has more to do with the thin cut of the potato than with our insolent non-allies. Belgians, frequently mistaken for French folks, actually get the credit for creating the potato sticks, often pairing them with a tasty mayonnaise. But the French might have been the first to marry fries with steak. And at Les Halles, there is no better accompaniment to a juicy hanger steak, or any other main dish for that matter. Hand-sliced potatoes, a little thicker than a shoestring cut and thinner than a steak fry, are briefly soaked in water to remove starch, dried carefully, and then dipped in hot oil until their center is tender and cooked through. After a short rest, they're deep-fried in hotter oil a second time to attain a crispy exterior. The result: perfectly browned frites tasty enough to be a meal all by themselves and destined to make even the most nationalistic diners coo, "Ooh la la!"
Patriots might be disappointed to know the French didn't invent French fries, so the whole wartime freedom fries propaganda campaign was a waste, erroneously disparaging an innocent food. The word "french" in fries has more to do with the thin cut of the potato than with our insolent non-allies. Belgians, frequently mistaken for French folks, actually get the credit for creating the potato sticks, often pairing them with a tasty mayonnaise. But the French might have been the first to marry fries with steak. And at Les Halles, there is no better accompaniment to a juicy hanger steak, or any other main dish for that matter. Hand-sliced potatoes, a little thicker than a shoestring cut and thinner than a steak fry, are briefly soaked in water to remove starch, dried carefully, and then dipped in hot oil until their center is tender and cooked through. After a short rest, they're deep-fried in hotter oil a second time to attain a crispy exterior. The result: perfectly browned frites tasty enough to be a meal all by themselves and destined to make even the most nationalistic diners coo, "Ooh la la!"
Owned by the venerable Valls family (masterminds behind Versailles and La Carreta), Casa Juancho feels like the Epcot version of Spain, which is exactly what many locals and especially tourists like about it. The giant fortress plunked on Little Havana's main drag for nearly twenty years has never really seemed to fit. But that's just another of its lures, not to mention what lurks inside in the cavelike darkness: hams hanging serenely from the ceiling, lobsters struggling to avoid being chosen as someone's dinner, and cheery musicians strolling around taking requests. While filling up on atmosphere, though, don't neglect Juancho's true temptations: refreshing sangria, perfectly grilled seafoods, scores of tapas, four kinds of tasty paella, and desserts such as a transcendent crema Catalana.
Owned by the venerable Valls family (masterminds behind Versailles and La Carreta), Casa Juancho feels like the Epcot version of Spain, which is exactly what many locals and especially tourists like about it. The giant fortress plunked on Little Havana's main drag for nearly twenty years has never really seemed to fit. But that's just another of its lures, not to mention what lurks inside in the cavelike darkness: hams hanging serenely from the ceiling, lobsters struggling to avoid being chosen as someone's dinner, and cheery musicians strolling around taking requests. While filling up on atmosphere, though, don't neglect Juancho's true temptations: refreshing sangria, perfectly grilled seafoods, scores of tapas, four kinds of tasty paella, and desserts such as a transcendent crema Catalana.
As the name suggests, the place serves not just dessert but the rest of the meal (and though the food is quite good, it's possible to just walk in off the street and get a table, even on weekends, due to its location half a block off Lincoln Road rather than in the middle of the mall's madness). Nevertheless pastries are Icebox's forte. The namesake icebox cakes put chain ice cream cakes to shame. But nonfrozen delights are also not to be missed. Layer cakes (such as lemon raspberry cake or mixed berry shortcake, both $5 per slice) look luscious and, for a change, taste even better than they look due to moist, dense, old-fashioned, home-baked batter; no standard commercial bakery premixes here. Petits fours lack the usual marzipan overkill, and are the most elegant in town -- perfect for parties meant to impress. When impressing others isn't a factor, Rice Krispies treats will evoke the better moments of your childhood. And a drop-dead delicious flourless chocolate soufflé makes religious dietary laws, at events like Seder dinners, no problem.
As the name suggests, the place serves not just dessert but the rest of the meal (and though the food is quite good, it's possible to just walk in off the street and get a table, even on weekends, due to its location half a block off Lincoln Road rather than in the middle of the mall's madness). Nevertheless pastries are Icebox's forte. The namesake icebox cakes put chain ice cream cakes to shame. But nonfrozen delights are also not to be missed. Layer cakes (such as lemon raspberry cake or mixed berry shortcake, both $5 per slice) look luscious and, for a change, taste even better than they look due to moist, dense, old-fashioned, home-baked batter; no standard commercial bakery premixes here. Petits fours lack the usual marzipan overkill, and are the most elegant in town -- perfect for parties meant to impress. When impressing others isn't a factor, Rice Krispies treats will evoke the better moments of your childhood. And a drop-dead delicious flourless chocolate soufflé makes religious dietary laws, at events like Seder dinners, no problem.
It's not that we forgot about Irie Isle after giving it this award way back in 1998. It's just that, for no good reason, we hadn't been back to the nondescript strip mall it calls home. But Irie Isle is still there. Still funky. Still delicious. Remember that it's primarily designed for take-out, though a few tables are always available. Either way, you can't beat the prices ($3.95 for the jerk chicken lunch; dinner combos well under $10), and the succulent jerk preparations are still the best in town. But don't forget the goat, stew chicken, and fish offerings. Or the beans and sticky rice. And you should always pick up a few fresh beef patties (call ahead to see if veggie or chicken patties are available). Irie Isle may not win any awards for décor, but that's not why you come here anyway.
It's not that we forgot about Irie Isle after giving it this award way back in 1998. It's just that, for no good reason, we hadn't been back to the nondescript strip mall it calls home. But Irie Isle is still there. Still funky. Still delicious. Remember that it's primarily designed for take-out, though a few tables are always available. Either way, you can't beat the prices ($3.95 for the jerk chicken lunch; dinner combos well under $10), and the succulent jerk preparations are still the best in town. But don't forget the goat, stew chicken, and fish offerings. Or the beans and sticky rice. And you should always pick up a few fresh beef patties (call ahead to see if veggie or chicken patties are available). Irie Isle may not win any awards for décor, but that's not why you come here anyway.
When this tiny bakery/café changed ownership last year, croissant connoisseurs mourned. How could the flaky French breakfast treats possibly remain Miami's most melt-in-your-mouth buttery? By retaining the same recipe, it turns out, as well as the same baker whose light touch for pastry handling -- and dense imported butter -- has always been responsible for the pastries' authentic Gallic goodness. In fact change has been, for once, for the better: Despite the shop's location in a predominantly Orthodox Jewish neighborhood, the newbie management doesn't close on Saturdays. Liberal new hours are every day, 7:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. (lunch served 10:30 a.m. to 3:00 p.m.). La Brioche now takes plastic, too -- all major cards, even minor majors like Carte Blanche, so you can acquire Frequent Flyer miles through your linked cards while you munch in mid-Beach. Next year (and next croissant) in Paris.
When this tiny bakery/café changed ownership last year, croissant connoisseurs mourned. How could the flaky French breakfast treats possibly remain Miami's most melt-in-your-mouth buttery? By retaining the same recipe, it turns out, as well as the same baker whose light touch for pastry handling -- and dense imported butter -- has always been responsible for the pastries' authentic Gallic goodness. In fact change has been, for once, for the better: Despite the shop's location in a predominantly Orthodox Jewish neighborhood, the newbie management doesn't close on Saturdays. Liberal new hours are every day, 7:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. (lunch served 10:30 a.m. to 3:00 p.m.). La Brioche now takes plastic, too -- all major cards, even minor majors like Carte Blanche, so you can acquire Frequent Flyer miles through your linked cards while you munch in mid-Beach. Next year (and next croissant) in Paris.
More bohemian hangout than formal restaurant, One Ninety is the sort of place you hope won't be ruined by too much exposure. So please don't bring your L.A. or New York friends here for Sunday brunch. Let's keep it in the family. The place already has an authentically homespun feel to it: funky-fun décor, a gallery component featuring the work of local artists, and live local bands. The Sunday spread begins with fresh-squeezed juice brought to your table by an attitude-free server. Then, after helping yourself to good strong coffee from the bar, proceed to the all-you-can-eat buffet. Dishes vary but typical choices include buttery-crusted artichoke/ crème fraîche tarts, a fabulously smooth carrot mousse, savory chicken salad, and tasty vegetable salads like a refreshing tomato, onion, and grain mix. (The dill-sprinkled, fresh-beet salad with Roquefort chunks could convert the most confirmed beet-hater.) There are also platters of various grilled or sautéed fresh veggies, scrumptious Southern-fried chicken, ribs that disappear within minutes after they hit the table, and desserts that'll make you wish you, like a cow, had two stomachs. Then your server returns with a menu of custom-cooked breakfast food -- eggs Florentine, strawberry pancakes, smoked-salmon omelets, huevos rancheros, and more -- from which diners can order any or all items. Whew! Price: $15.
More bohemian hangout than formal restaurant, One Ninety is the sort of place you hope won't be ruined by too much exposure. So please don't bring your L.A. or New York friends here for Sunday brunch. Let's keep it in the family. The place already has an authentically homespun feel to it: funky-fun décor, a gallery component featuring the work of local artists, and live local bands. The Sunday spread begins with fresh-squeezed juice brought to your table by an attitude-free server. Then, after helping yourself to good strong coffee from the bar, proceed to the all-you-can-eat buffet. Dishes vary but typical choices include buttery-crusted artichoke/ crème fraîche tarts, a fabulously smooth carrot mousse, savory chicken salad, and tasty vegetable salads like a refreshing tomato, onion, and grain mix. (The dill-sprinkled, fresh-beet salad with Roquefort chunks could convert the most confirmed beet-hater.) There are also platters of various grilled or sautéed fresh veggies, scrumptious Southern-fried chicken, ribs that disappear within minutes after they hit the table, and desserts that'll make you wish you, like a cow, had two stomachs. Then your server returns with a menu of custom-cooked breakfast food -- eggs Florentine, strawberry pancakes, smoked-salmon omelets, huevos rancheros, and more -- from which diners can order any or all items. Whew! Price: $15.
What could be more at the forefront of baking than the ingenuity displayed by those at Atlanta Bread Company? This restaurant is redefining the boundaries of bread. No more will dough aficionados be constrained to thinking that sliced bread is the greatest triumph since.... One of ABC's more noteworthy "concept breads" is something they call "A Loaf of Soup." It consists of a loaf of sourdough with a bowl carved into the top of it. The bread is then filled with the customer's choice of soup like cream of broccoli, onion, or chicken noodle. Now we know it's not what most will think of when they conjure up images of bread, so rest assured the place also carries a wide array of muffins, croissants, bagels, and Danishes for the nonadventurous soul. But soup in a loaf of bread? That earns them this award for creativity.
What could be more at the forefront of baking than the ingenuity displayed by those at Atlanta Bread Company? This restaurant is redefining the boundaries of bread. No more will dough aficionados be constrained to thinking that sliced bread is the greatest triumph since.... One of ABC's more noteworthy "concept breads" is something they call "A Loaf of Soup." It consists of a loaf of sourdough with a bowl carved into the top of it. The bread is then filled with the customer's choice of soup like cream of broccoli, onion, or chicken noodle. Now we know it's not what most will think of when they conjure up images of bread, so rest assured the place also carries a wide array of muffins, croissants, bagels, and Danishes for the nonadventurous soul. But soup in a loaf of bread? That earns them this award for creativity.
It's common to associate "buffet" with "table." Wrong. Here, on any given Sunday, it's a roomful of tables overflowing with at least 200 items covering the spectrum, from raw seafood to the sweetest sweets. Juicy meats, salads, breads, stews, and soups line up side-by-side across the vast expanse, each one challenging the diner's whim to fill every last bit of stomach space available. Tip: Don't eat for three days prior and arrive early. Bonus tip: Holidays feature special items (such as succulent turkey at Thanksgiving). At $48 per person ($22 for kids), with a glass of champagne or a mimosa included, this is a feast fit to feed an entire Third World nation or to please the most demanding gourmand. On any given Sunday.
It's common to associate "buffet" with "table." Wrong. Here, on any given Sunday, it's a roomful of tables overflowing with at least 200 items covering the spectrum, from raw seafood to the sweetest sweets. Juicy meats, salads, breads, stews, and soups line up side-by-side across the vast expanse, each one challenging the diner's whim to fill every last bit of stomach space available. Tip: Don't eat for three days prior and arrive early. Bonus tip: Holidays feature special items (such as succulent turkey at Thanksgiving). At $48 per person ($22 for kids), with a glass of champagne or a mimosa included, this is a feast fit to feed an entire Third World nation or to please the most demanding gourmand. On any given Sunday.
The sisters serve several hundred meals a day, sponsor on-site visiting nurses twice a week, and will soon offer shelter for 25 women and 10 children. When Mother Teresa visited Miami in 1974, she established the Missionary of Charity in one of downtown's grimmest quarters. Early in the morning, the homeless begin congregating in front of the 727 building on NW Seventeenth Street. Most of them wait patiently, others anxiously, for the sisters to open the doors to their soup kitchen. For many of those waiting, it will be the only meal of the day. This is a corner of Miami where both the missionaries and the homeless prefer to be known only by their first names. Those who come to the soup kitchen are white, black, Hispanic, men and women, a reminder that misery can come knocking on anyone's door. "We have to take care of our brothers and sisters, especially the poor, those who are abandoned, those who are alone," said one sister. "Mother Teresa reminds us of the words of Jesus: 'Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, you do unto me.'"
The sisters serve several hundred meals a day, sponsor on-site visiting nurses twice a week, and will soon offer shelter for 25 women and 10 children. When Mother Teresa visited Miami in 1974, she established the Missionary of Charity in one of downtown's grimmest quarters. Early in the morning, the homeless begin congregating in front of the 727 building on NW Seventeenth Street. Most of them wait patiently, others anxiously, for the sisters to open the doors to their soup kitchen. For many of those waiting, it will be the only meal of the day. This is a corner of Miami where both the missionaries and the homeless prefer to be known only by their first names. Those who come to the soup kitchen are white, black, Hispanic, men and women, a reminder that misery can come knocking on anyone's door. "We have to take care of our brothers and sisters, especially the poor, those who are abandoned, those who are alone," said one sister. "Mother Teresa reminds us of the words of Jesus: 'Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, you do unto me.'"
Located in the upstairs area of the old Firehouse Four restaurant/bar, and offering indoor and outdoor dining (choose outdoors if possible), this classy and hip addition to the Brickell dining scene owes its acclaim to Barcelona chef Jordi Vallès. Before coming to America, Vallès worked under Spain's Ferran Adrià, the madly creative genius whose culinary inventions have made him a worldwide star. Adrià also trained the supremely talented Angel Palacios, who hired Vallès to work for him at the ill-fated La Broche, the most daring restaurant Miami has ever seen. (Palacios's own Adrià-inspired inventions somehow couldn't find an audience, and the restaurant closed after less than a year.) But at his new home, Vallès's goal is not to shock so much as to surprise. Yes, he employs some of the trademark touches of Adrià's "deconstructionist" cuisine (uniquely flavored foams and ice creams), but they are in the service of the more familiar, such as lobster tails with a dollop of avocado sorbet resting on a "consommé" of golden tomato.
Located in the upstairs area of the old Firehouse Four restaurant/bar, and offering indoor and outdoor dining (choose outdoors if possible), this classy and hip addition to the Brickell dining scene owes its acclaim to Barcelona chef Jordi Vallès. Before coming to America, Vallès worked under Spain's Ferran Adrià, the madly creative genius whose culinary inventions have made him a worldwide star. Adrià also trained the supremely talented Angel Palacios, who hired Vallès to work for him at the ill-fated La Broche, the most daring restaurant Miami has ever seen. (Palacios's own Adrià-inspired inventions somehow couldn't find an audience, and the restaurant closed after less than a year.) But at his new home, Vallès's goal is not to shock so much as to surprise. Yes, he employs some of the trademark touches of Adrià's "deconstructionist" cuisine (uniquely flavored foams and ice creams), but they are in the service of the more familiar, such as lobster tails with a dollop of avocado sorbet resting on a "consommé" of golden tomato.
Your mother. Duh. And there's this woman at the hidden snack counter inside Chuck's Laundry on Red Road who will customize the amount of sugar, steamy milk, and "espresso" to launch a Jungian dream of drowning in caffeine (if you ever get to sleep). But blindfold-tested, any proper coffee-with-milk Cuban style tastes about as wonderful as any other. With experience and franchise-level quality control, Carreta never lets drinkers down, and visitors to the outlet on Bird Road just west of the Palmetto Expressway on a weekend can view a herd of fancy motorcycles corralled in the parking lot by modern-day drovers, most of whom are police officers and their pals. A free chopper show doesn't hurt as you sip away at something that resembles coffee mixed with hot chocolate.
Your mother. Duh. And there's this woman at the hidden snack counter inside Chuck's Laundry on Red Road who will customize the amount of sugar, steamy milk, and "espresso" to launch a Jungian dream of drowning in caffeine (if you ever get to sleep). But blindfold-tested, any proper coffee-with-milk Cuban style tastes about as wonderful as any other. With experience and franchise-level quality control, Carreta never lets drinkers down, and visitors to the outlet on Bird Road just west of the Palmetto Expressway on a weekend can view a herd of fancy motorcycles corralled in the parking lot by modern-day drovers, most of whom are police officers and their pals. A free chopper show doesn't hurt as you sip away at something that resembles coffee mixed with hot chocolate.
BEST RESTAURANT FOR GLUTTONS
1200 Restaurant and courtyard
Biltmore Hotel
There used to be only two seatings for the Biltmore's famous Sunday brunch. Now seating in the outdoor fountain court is continuous, from 10:30 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. This means your table is not always ready when you arrive. But that's a good thing! While you wait, you'll be ushered to a side bar and served up a taste of the endless bounty to come: mimosas or straight champagne, as much as you can handle. Dedicated drinkers could conceivably quaff enough bubbly to justify the meal's entire $49 tag before even hitting the big table, laden with nova, whitefish, sable, and all manner of other smoked fish (plus capers, cream cheese, bagels, and any other accouterment imaginable). Then you only have eight additional food stations to demolish. Offerings include pastas, salads, sushi, cold seafood selections, a carving station, meats and seafood from a charcoal grill, a dessert table featuring flambé crêpes. Champagne continues throughout the repast, and unlike other champagne brunches, the Biltmore's servers pour constantly and generously.
BEST RESTAURANT FOR GLUTTONS
1200 Restaurant and courtyard
Biltmore Hotel
There used to be only two seatings for the Biltmore's famous Sunday brunch. Now seating in the outdoor fountain court is continuous, from 10:30 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. This means your table is not always ready when you arrive. But that's a good thing! While you wait, you'll be ushered to a side bar and served up a taste of the endless bounty to come: mimosas or straight champagne, as much as you can handle. Dedicated drinkers could conceivably quaff enough bubbly to justify the meal's entire $49 tag before even hitting the big table, laden with nova, whitefish, sable, and all manner of other smoked fish (plus capers, cream cheese, bagels, and any other accouterment imaginable). Then you only have eight additional food stations to demolish. Offerings include pastas, salads, sushi, cold seafood selections, a carving station, meats and seafood from a charcoal grill, a dessert table featuring flambé crêpes. Champagne continues throughout the repast, and unlike other champagne brunches, the Biltmore's servers pour constantly and generously.
Every April for the past two decades Miami Springs, our own version of Mayberry, has celebrated the river that runs through it with a street party that fills the famous circle in the northeast corner of town -- where most of the businesses are -- and extends out along the streets and into the large green space in the middle of the circle. Family-oriented to the extreme, the kiosks feature the usual arts and crafts and souvenirs as well as more unusual items (the African statues booth is always fascinating). There's a river cleanup, a fishing contest, canoe races, and plenty of live music. Food seems to dominate, and the highlight is a large chickee-type booth where several of the town's venerable citizens roast corn. For the most part, corn is corn, but to roast it perfectly requires know-how, which is why the same guys, each year a bit more gray, swelter over the open fire and, with gloved hands, find a good cob, rip open the husk, put a stick in it, and provide what just might be the perfect corn. Sweet, plump, smoky, juicy ... the best.
Every April for the past two decades Miami Springs, our own version of Mayberry, has celebrated the river that runs through it with a street party that fills the famous circle in the northeast corner of town -- where most of the businesses are -- and extends out along the streets and into the large green space in the middle of the circle. Family-oriented to the extreme, the kiosks feature the usual arts and crafts and souvenirs as well as more unusual items (the African statues booth is always fascinating). There's a river cleanup, a fishing contest, canoe races, and plenty of live music. Food seems to dominate, and the highlight is a large chickee-type booth where several of the town's venerable citizens roast corn. For the most part, corn is corn, but to roast it perfectly requires know-how, which is why the same guys, each year a bit more gray, swelter over the open fire and, with gloved hands, find a good cob, rip open the husk, put a stick in it, and provide what just might be the perfect corn. Sweet, plump, smoky, juicy ... the best.
There is one very good reason why Tuscan Steak recovered more quickly than most other Beach restaurants following the economically disastrous 2002 season. And the reason isn't the authenticity of its Florentine T-bone. (Good as it is, true traditional bistecca alla fiorentina would never be served sliced and reassembled.) Nor are the eatery's other cheese-sauced steaks typically Tuscan. No, there's more to a dining experience than food. Great service can make dining out seem worth the expense, especially when money is tight. Here the service makes diners feel special. It's neither too correctly stiff nor too amateur-night friendly. Most important, there's not a hint of that infamous South Beach attitude (Waiter: "I'm just here till my agent calls...."). Credit goes to manager Steve Haas, who has been tackling Miami Beach's service problems in a bigger way as a founder of the annual educational dining and drinking event called Hospitality Employees Awareness Day.
There is one very good reason why Tuscan Steak recovered more quickly than most other Beach restaurants following the economically disastrous 2002 season. And the reason isn't the authenticity of its Florentine T-bone. (Good as it is, true traditional bistecca alla fiorentina would never be served sliced and reassembled.) Nor are the eatery's other cheese-sauced steaks typically Tuscan. No, there's more to a dining experience than food. Great service can make dining out seem worth the expense, especially when money is tight. Here the service makes diners feel special. It's neither too correctly stiff nor too amateur-night friendly. Most important, there's not a hint of that infamous South Beach attitude (Waiter: "I'm just here till my agent calls...."). Credit goes to manager Steve Haas, who has been tackling Miami Beach's service problems in a bigger way as a founder of the annual educational dining and drinking event called Hospitality Employees Awareness Day.
Everyone pretends to visit Everglades National Park to commune with nature. But every local knows we really go for the food -- and not the alligator sushi, either. Not far from the park's main entrance down south, the temptations for detours come from Knaus Berry Farm's sticky buns and the strawberry or key-lime milkshakes from Robert Is Here. But on the road trip out Tamiami Trail to the park's northern entrance at Shark Valley, the smoky barbecue aromas emanating from the Pit's wood cabin stop drivers more effectively than a police roadblock. Ribs are juicy, flavorful, fabulous. The double pork sandwich -- featuring mounds of what might be the best pit-cooked, pulled pork to be had south of the Carolinas, topped with crunchy sweet slaw -- is even better. Sides are also superior to most BBQ joints: tangy baked beans, lightly floured real onion rings, and to wash it down, imported Beck's beer. The eclectic redneck-to-reggae jukebox is big fun, too.
When Pheofanis "Frankie" Rigalos opened a pizza stand in Hollywood 30 years ago, he immediately ran into a problem. He simply couldn't find the high-quality ingredients he needed. His son, Bobby, picks up the story: "He started going to New York, but even there he couldn't get everything he needed at the markets. So he went to factories and warehouses. He'd go around at church and tell everyone he was ordering, say, a big wheel of cheese, and people would go in on it." The Greek native naturally let this lead him into the business of importing, distributing, and selling directly to customers the finest Greek food (and statues, CDs, sundries) from a 15,000-square-foot warehouse. Bobby, who was born in the U.S., says that while the store sells all the best in the world of olives, feta, and pita, the most important aspect is "our knowledge of the products. Everything is imported from Greece. My father goes three times a year to shop. And with the Greek farmers, they're more honest, they'll tell him if they're looking at a good season or a bad one. We rotate our stock frequently." His mother Georgia keeps the books while sister Dina oversees administration. Cousin Pano (Peter in English) also pitches in. Together they provide real Greek food to everyone from the organizers of the St. Andrews festival in Kendall each November to places in the Caribbean, South America, and all over Florida. "It's a big operation for a mom-and-pop," Bobby notes. "But we still know all the regular customers on a personal basis." Saturday is the best time to go because there is almost always a reason to celebrate something, and the place turns into one big fat Greek party, with music and dancing, people gathering to shop and eat everything from what Bobby calls "Americanized stuff like baklava" to "hard-core cookies and chocolates you can only find in Greece." He tries to summarize the inventory, but ends up speaking Greek. "We have ... oh, it's a great saying, but in English, well, the best way I can say it is, 'We have everything including the bird's milk.'"
When Pheofanis "Frankie" Rigalos opened a pizza stand in Hollywood 30 years ago, he immediately ran into a problem. He simply couldn't find the high-quality ingredients he needed. His son, Bobby, picks up the story: "He started going to New York, but even there he couldn't get everything he needed at the markets. So he went to factories and warehouses. He'd go around at church and tell everyone he was ordering, say, a big wheel of cheese, and people would go in on it." The Greek native naturally let this lead him into the business of importing, distributing, and selling directly to customers the finest Greek food (and statues, CDs, sundries) from a 15,000-square-foot warehouse. Bobby, who was born in the U.S., says that while the store sells all the best in the world of olives, feta, and pita, the most important aspect is "our knowledge of the products. Everything is imported from Greece. My father goes three times a year to shop. And with the Greek farmers, they're more honest, they'll tell him if they're looking at a good season or a bad one. We rotate our stock frequently." His mother Georgia keeps the books while sister Dina oversees administration. Cousin Pano (Peter in English) also pitches in. Together they provide real Greek food to everyone from the organizers of the St. Andrews festival in Kendall each November to places in the Caribbean, South America, and all over Florida. "It's a big operation for a mom-and-pop," Bobby notes. "But we still know all the regular customers on a personal basis." Saturday is the best time to go because there is almost always a reason to celebrate something, and the place turns into one big fat Greek party, with music and dancing, people gathering to shop and eat everything from what Bobby calls "Americanized stuff like baklava" to "hard-core cookies and chocolates you can only find in Greece." He tries to summarize the inventory, but ends up speaking Greek. "We have ... oh, it's a great saying, but in English, well, the best way I can say it is, 'We have everything including the bird's milk.'"
Admittedly not everything on the menu is a knockout, but Barton G's expansive, lushly planted tropical-jungle dining patio always is. Just what you'd expect from a flamboyant former Broadway set designer. Definitely reserve a table outside (the indoor space is glitzy but nothing special) and eschew fancy dishes in favor of the creative comfort-food items: playful "popcorn" shrimp served with Asian sprouts and honey vinaigrette atop real popcorn in a cardboard container; macaroni and cheese that's light on the cheese, heavy on the wild mushrooms and truffle essence -- an updated American classic. And don't miss the Big Top Cotton Candy and Over-the-Top Popcorn Surprise dessert (the surprise being that crackerjack balls flanking the traditional fluff-on-a-stick have elegant chocolate truffle centers). You can eat perfect crème brûlée at countless indoor restaurants, but cotton candy under coconut palms? That's the essence of Miami Beach.
Admittedly not everything on the menu is a knockout, but Barton G's expansive, lushly planted tropical-jungle dining patio always is. Just what you'd expect from a flamboyant former Broadway set designer. Definitely reserve a table outside (the indoor space is glitzy but nothing special) and eschew fancy dishes in favor of the creative comfort-food items: playful "popcorn" shrimp served with Asian sprouts and honey vinaigrette atop real popcorn in a cardboard container; macaroni and cheese that's light on the cheese, heavy on the wild mushrooms and truffle essence -- an updated American classic. And don't miss the Big Top Cotton Candy and Over-the-Top Popcorn Surprise dessert (the surprise being that crackerjack balls flanking the traditional fluff-on-a-stick have elegant chocolate truffle centers). You can eat perfect crème brûlée at countless indoor restaurants, but cotton candy under coconut palms? That's the essence of Miami Beach.
Everyone knows the high quality of this eatery. It was recognized last year for Best Flan and Best Sandwich Name (Bay of Pig). But with arteries clogging from fat and cholesterol levels soaring and, oh no, mad cow disease, beef's been taking a beating. Fortunately the S.S. is way ahead of the game, offering a juicy, sweet turkey burger that'll make withdrawal from cow meat much easier. There are other healthy alternatives, of course, but few so delicious. And after a turkey burger you might still be able to find room for some of that killer flan.
Everyone knows the high quality of this eatery. It was recognized last year for Best Flan and Best Sandwich Name (Bay of Pig). But with arteries clogging from fat and cholesterol levels soaring and, oh no, mad cow disease, beef's been taking a beating. Fortunately the S.S. is way ahead of the game, offering a juicy, sweet turkey burger that'll make withdrawal from cow meat much easier. There are other healthy alternatives, of course, but few so delicious. And after a turkey burger you might still be able to find room for some of that killer flan.
The low-carb revolution has left dessert in the dust. More Americans are doing what Europeans have done for so many years: savoring high-protein, high-fat cheese at the end of a meal instead of indulging in sugary sweets. At the Mandarin Oriental's marvelous restaurant Azul, fromage is presented with a French flourish: A trolley featuring one of the biggest of cheeses, a giant wheel of Cantal made in Auvergne, France, is wheeled to diners' tables. But this hard, cow's milk cheese doesn't stand alone. Grapes, nuts, and one concession to carbs, crackers, are served with a wedge of the nutty wonder. A sommelier-suggested glass of dessert wine adds to the experience. Discerning diners on a dairy bender need only ask and a scrumptious selection of gooey delights -- made from sheep's, goat's, and cow's milk -- will be brought to their table tout de suite.
The low-carb revolution has left dessert in the dust. More Americans are doing what Europeans have done for so many years: savoring high-protein, high-fat cheese at the end of a meal instead of indulging in sugary sweets. At the Mandarin Oriental's marvelous restaurant Azul, fromage is presented with a French flourish: A trolley featuring one of the biggest of cheeses, a giant wheel of Cantal made in Auvergne, France, is wheeled to diners' tables. But this hard, cow's milk cheese doesn't stand alone. Grapes, nuts, and one concession to carbs, crackers, are served with a wedge of the nutty wonder. A sommelier-suggested glass of dessert wine adds to the experience. Discerning diners on a dairy bender need only ask and a scrumptious selection of gooey delights -- made from sheep's, goat's, and cow's milk -- will be brought to their table tout de suite.
There's something comforting about seeing a big man behind the grill. Frankie is big. So are his sandwiches, all 77 varieties from around the country. And addictive, especially the Philly cheese steak, with a side of hot peppers. Maybe that's why the inside of Frankie's always looks like an episode of Hill Street Blues. Cops in uniform chowing down medianoches or muffulettas. Plainclothes guys scarfing pastrami, betrayed only by the guns they lay on the table while they eat. "It looks like a vice squad exploded in here," one customer was heard to remark recently.
There's something comforting about seeing a big man behind the grill. Frankie is big. So are his sandwiches, all 77 varieties from around the country. And addictive, especially the Philly cheese steak, with a side of hot peppers. Maybe that's why the inside of Frankie's always looks like an episode of Hill Street Blues. Cops in uniform chowing down medianoches or muffulettas. Plainclothes guys scarfing pastrami, betrayed only by the guns they lay on the table while they eat. "It looks like a vice squad exploded in here," one customer was heard to remark recently.
For more than two decades, lovers of the Cuban sandwich have made their way to the charming cafeteria on Flagler with the Spanish name that translates into the Palace of Juice. Covered in palm branches and bamboo, the cafeteria is famous for an infinite selection of freshly squeezed tropical fruit juices, but it also makes a hell of a Cuban sandwich. The dish isn't very complicated, so the trick is simply getting the best quality meats and cheeses in between a toasted Cuban loaf. And El Palacio does it like nobody else. Huge, juicy portions of pork and aromatic Swiss cheese make every bite absolutely satisfying. And if the scenery or food isn't interesting enough, this place is, like so many Cuban eateries, also connected to politics. Miami For Dean -- Howard, that is -- used the cafeteria as a mobilization center. See, Democrats are carnivores too.
For more than two decades, lovers of the Cuban sandwich have made their way to the charming cafeteria on Flagler with the Spanish name that translates into the Palace of Juice. Covered in palm branches and bamboo, the cafeteria is famous for an infinite selection of freshly squeezed tropical fruit juices, but it also makes a hell of a Cuban sandwich. The dish isn't very complicated, so the trick is simply getting the best quality meats and cheeses in between a toasted Cuban loaf. And El Palacio does it like nobody else. Huge, juicy portions of pork and aromatic Swiss cheese make every bite absolutely satisfying. And if the scenery or food isn't interesting enough, this place is, like so many Cuban eateries, also connected to politics. Miami For Dean -- Howard, that is -- used the cafeteria as a mobilization center. See, Democrats are carnivores too.
At Wish in South Beach, the bold Mediterr-Asian cuisine of Andrea Curto was awesome. At both the Heights in Coral Gables and later at the Gaucho Room in the Loews Hotel, Frank Randazzo's Southwest-influenced creations were equally dazzling. Put these two inventive chefs together and what do you get? Personally, marriage. Professionally, Talula, which immediately began attracting rave reviews locally and nationally. And why not, with an intriguing merger menu of what they call "Creative American Cuisine"? Some dishes are influenced by their former individual venues, like Curto's flavorful grilled quail crusted with a cascabel chili rub (a signature item at Wish). But most items are new, some sounding similar to dishes available elsewhere but tasting delightfully different, such as a tartare of diced ahi tuna flavored not with the usual sesame but with chili oil, and playfully topped with snap-crackle-popping fresh trout caviar. For dessert, an amusingly marshmallow-topped layered sweet potato/custard crème brûlée is as festive as South Beach itself.
At Wish in South Beach, the bold Mediterr-Asian cuisine of Andrea Curto was awesome. At both the Heights in Coral Gables and later at the Gaucho Room in the Loews Hotel, Frank Randazzo's Southwest-influenced creations were equally dazzling. Put these two inventive chefs together and what do you get? Personally, marriage. Professionally, Talula, which immediately began attracting rave reviews locally and nationally. And why not, with an intriguing merger menu of what they call "Creative American Cuisine"? Some dishes are influenced by their former individual venues, like Curto's flavorful grilled quail crusted with a cascabel chili rub (a signature item at Wish). But most items are new, some sounding similar to dishes available elsewhere but tasting delightfully different, such as a tartare of diced ahi tuna flavored not with the usual sesame but with chili oil, and playfully topped with snap-crackle-popping fresh trout caviar. For dessert, an amusingly marshmallow-topped layered sweet potato/custard crème brûlée is as festive as South Beach itself.
Talk about your power dressing. While the suits are likely to be seen mixing it up with the beatniks in this converted warehouse on the edge of an up-and-coming arts and design district, your eyes will be fixed upon your plate should you order one of several caesar salads from Soyka's stable menu. Though the linchpin of the caesar -- the dressing -- is tart and peppery, chef Kevin Wright's version is also creamy and a bit earthy, making the relatively good-for-you salad, which can come topped with chicken or salmon as well as croutons and Asiago and Parmesan cheese, seem like comfort food.
Talk about your power dressing. While the suits are likely to be seen mixing it up with the beatniks in this converted warehouse on the edge of an up-and-coming arts and design district, your eyes will be fixed upon your plate should you order one of several caesar salads from Soyka's stable menu. Though the linchpin of the caesar -- the dressing -- is tart and peppery, chef Kevin Wright's version is also creamy and a bit earthy, making the relatively good-for-you salad, which can come topped with chicken or salmon as well as croutons and Asiago and Parmesan cheese, seem like comfort food.
You'll definitely want a side of kalalou to go with your savory poul di. Unless you order the fresh pwason gwosel, in which case we'd recommend the mayi moulen. It may sound Greek to you, but the Kreyol specials at this long-time South Beach eatery seem to have gotten better of late. The sauces are a little more flavorful, the conch a little more tender, the service a little more professional. And of course the signature mojitos are still some of the best around. Besides the cuisine, it's always a party at Tap Tap, what with the colorful interior, live music, and occasional impromptu drumming sessions. Enjoy a slice of the Caribbean and ride the crest of this latest wave.
You'll definitely want a side of kalalou to go with your savory poul di. Unless you order the fresh pwason gwosel, in which case we'd recommend the mayi moulen. It may sound Greek to you, but the Kreyol specials at this long-time South Beach eatery seem to have gotten better of late. The sauces are a little more flavorful, the conch a little more tender, the service a little more professional. And of course the signature mojitos are still some of the best around. Besides the cuisine, it's always a party at Tap Tap, what with the colorful interior, live music, and occasional impromptu drumming sessions. Enjoy a slice of the Caribbean and ride the crest of this latest wave.
It isn't just the amazing albondiguitas (spicy meatballs in vegetable stock) or the fantastic fajitas that have earned Paquito's this award three times already. The food is excellent and the service impeccable. What gives this place so much appeal is the authentic Mexican atmosphere. Walk inside and you're transported to a hacienda where Yucatan hospitality offers a wonderful night of dining and inspecting the Mexican folk art blanketing the walls. If you're with friends, though, don't get lost in your gaze. Your nachos will disappear in a flash. They're that good.
It isn't just the amazing albondiguitas (spicy meatballs in vegetable stock) or the fantastic fajitas that have earned Paquito's this award three times already. The food is excellent and the service impeccable. What gives this place so much appeal is the authentic Mexican atmosphere. Walk inside and you're transported to a hacienda where Yucatan hospitality offers a wonderful night of dining and inspecting the Mexican folk art blanketing the walls. If you're with friends, though, don't get lost in your gaze. Your nachos will disappear in a flash. They're that good.
The fam just jet in from the Left Coast, with that dreadful stopover in Houston? Get them away from the fumes and across the street (with a few twists and turns) for a cozy (fifteen tables) gourmet dinner with five-star service courtesy of the Gonzalez family. The Argentine folks opened Basilico six years ago and have only increased the general excellence of their bistro. A little Latin touch with plenty of seafood will let your guests know they've arrived in Miami. Bring on the seafood linguine, the menu's signature item and a certain crowd pleaser. The pasta is perfect, of course, and heaped with mussels, clams, shrimp, and pieces of squid. But the trick to Basilico's palate-pleasing is the extra ingredient that seems to appear in each dish; in this case it's salmon. All those carbs and all that protein are lifted even higher with a sauce of olive oil, wine, tomato, basil. If your visitors, for some ungodly reason, ate on the plane, stop in anyway for one of the desserts and the primo cappuccino. The desserts are limited and selections change. Lately the chef recommends the chocolate soufflé à la mode.
The fam just jet in from the Left Coast, with that dreadful stopover in Houston? Get them away from the fumes and across the street (with a few twists and turns) for a cozy (fifteen tables) gourmet dinner with five-star service courtesy of the Gonzalez family. The Argentine folks opened Basilico six years ago and have only increased the general excellence of their bistro. A little Latin touch with plenty of seafood will let your guests know they've arrived in Miami. Bring on the seafood linguine, the menu's signature item and a certain crowd pleaser. The pasta is perfect, of course, and heaped with mussels, clams, shrimp, and pieces of squid. But the trick to Basilico's palate-pleasing is the extra ingredient that seems to appear in each dish; in this case it's salmon. All those carbs and all that protein are lifted even higher with a sauce of olive oil, wine, tomato, basil. If your visitors, for some ungodly reason, ate on the plane, stop in anyway for one of the desserts and the primo cappuccino. The desserts are limited and selections change. Lately the chef recommends the chocolate soufflé à la mode.
Face it, when you're drinking to get drunk -- and Hooligan's is a good place to do just that -- delicate crab, feta, and watercress tapas with a kiwi raspberry reduction vinaigrette are just not going to quell incipient waves of gut-rotting liquor nausea. Hooligan's offers substantial portions of carbs and fried food (often together in the same greasily nostalgic package) on platters and à la carte. Try not to heave until you scarf down a plate of wings and fries. Jay's Awesome Oysters, a most satisfying cooked offering of the bivalve mollusks, are named for proprietor Jay Love, the politician. From Love's fecund and diabolical mind comes such high-proof concepts as discount nights for hospital employees, the revivification of the drinking game called flips, the indefatigable hosting of the underappreciated blues band Geezer, and a happy hour that, on occasion, begins at 11:00 a.m. and lasts until morning. This is notwithstanding the 40-plus television sets tuned to different channels but uniformly broadcasting some type of sports (hence Hooligan's dual award: it's also the Best Sports Bar). Though seafood is a staple as well as namesake, and the barbecue shrimp are a mighty tasty alternative to Tagamet, you'll want something piquant to steady your stomach, so do leave room, one way or the other, for tangy Buffalo wings.
Face it, when you're drinking to get drunk -- and Hooligan's is a good place to do just that -- delicate crab, feta, and watercress tapas with a kiwi raspberry reduction vinaigrette are just not going to quell incipient waves of gut-rotting liquor nausea. Hooligan's offers substantial portions of carbs and fried food (often together in the same greasily nostalgic package) on platters and à la carte. Try not to heave until you scarf down a plate of wings and fries. Jay's Awesome Oysters, a most satisfying cooked offering of the bivalve mollusks, are named for proprietor Jay Love, the politician. From Love's fecund and diabolical mind comes such high-proof concepts as discount nights for hospital employees, the revivification of the drinking game called flips, the indefatigable hosting of the underappreciated blues band Geezer, and a happy hour that, on occasion, begins at 11:00 a.m. and lasts until morning. This is notwithstanding the 40-plus television sets tuned to different channels but uniformly broadcasting some type of sports (hence Hooligan's dual award: it's also the Best Sports Bar). Though seafood is a staple as well as namesake, and the barbecue shrimp are a mighty tasty alternative to Tagamet, you'll want something piquant to steady your stomach, so do leave room, one way or the other, for tangy Buffalo wings.
Bill "the Captain" Bowers owns and operates this 33-year-old landmark (with the indispensable help of wife Audrey). He'll soon turn 75, but he refuses to retire. "I just can't get enough of the restaurant business," he says. "It's been a great ride and I love what I do." He also loves wine, and can't help sharing his enthusiasm. In that regard, you might say he's been on a mission. Back in 1996 he told this paper: "A bottle of wine shouldn't be the center of the conversation. It should be there for enjoyment. I want people to drink wine at my restaurant every time they come." Judging by his accounting, his loyal customers are doing just that. On average they're spending $1000 each day on wine with their fresh seafood. The money goes a long way, too. Bowers is famous for keeping his wine prices low -- very low. He never charges more than twice the wholesale cost, and that's for the cheapest wine; the more expensive the bottle, the less the markup. (Most restaurants charge at least three times wholesale price.) And consider the unique wine list: a mind-boggling 500 different selections, mainly from California. Some prices: MacMurray Ranch pinot noir $16, Wild Horse pinot noir $16, Kendall Jackson sauvignon blanc $14, Canyon Road cabernet $12, Geyser Peak cabernet $14. Some retail stores charge as much.
Bill "the Captain" Bowers owns and operates this 33-year-old landmark (with the indispensable help of wife Audrey). He'll soon turn 75, but he refuses to retire. "I just can't get enough of the restaurant business," he says. "It's been a great ride and I love what I do." He also loves wine, and can't help sharing his enthusiasm. In that regard, you might say he's been on a mission. Back in 1996 he told this paper: "A bottle of wine shouldn't be the center of the conversation. It should be there for enjoyment. I want people to drink wine at my restaurant every time they come." Judging by his accounting, his loyal customers are doing just that. On average they're spending $1000 each day on wine with their fresh seafood. The money goes a long way, too. Bowers is famous for keeping his wine prices low -- very low. He never charges more than twice the wholesale cost, and that's for the cheapest wine; the more expensive the bottle, the less the markup. (Most restaurants charge at least three times wholesale price.) And consider the unique wine list: a mind-boggling 500 different selections, mainly from California. Some prices: MacMurray Ranch pinot noir $16, Wild Horse pinot noir $16, Kendall Jackson sauvignon blanc $14, Canyon Road cabernet $12, Geyser Peak cabernet $14. Some retail stores charge as much.
Brazilian natives Roberto and Tania Madeira opened a health food store in Key West in 1997. "We made the most boring, healthy food," Tania readily admits. That all changed when they won the city's Best Key Lime Pie contest in 1999 with a recipe handed down from Tania's 88-year-old grandmother. Suddenly they were loved. The Madeiras scrapped the tofu and veggies for limes, sugar, and meringue and opened a shop dedicated to the tartest of tarts. Since then they've been steadily marching north, opening another Key West locale, then one in Marathon. Last year they opened their South Miami shop, which is a shrine to the tiny green fruit. In addition to a swooningly good pie, they also sell lime juice, lime-covered chocolates, key lime salsa, and key lime honey-mustard dip. It's a cultural thing. "Brazil is the largest producer of key limes," Roberto says. "We call them limon galego. Our national drink, the caipirinha, is made with key limes." But the pie is the foundation of it all -- $16.25 for a plain pie, $17.25 for a chocolate-covered pie, and $18.25 for the signature, meringue-covered pie. Slices and frozen slices on a stick are $3.75.
Brazilian natives Roberto and Tania Madeira opened a health food store in Key West in 1997. "We made the most boring, healthy food," Tania readily admits. That all changed when they won the city's Best Key Lime Pie contest in 1999 with a recipe handed down from Tania's 88-year-old grandmother. Suddenly they were loved. The Madeiras scrapped the tofu and veggies for limes, sugar, and meringue and opened a shop dedicated to the tartest of tarts. Since then they've been steadily marching north, opening another Key West locale, then one in Marathon. Last year they opened their South Miami shop, which is a shrine to the tiny green fruit. In addition to a swooningly good pie, they also sell lime juice, lime-covered chocolates, key lime salsa, and key lime honey-mustard dip. It's a cultural thing. "Brazil is the largest producer of key limes," Roberto says. "We call them limon galego. Our national drink, the caipirinha, is made with key limes." But the pie is the foundation of it all -- $16.25 for a plain pie, $17.25 for a chocolate-covered pie, and $18.25 for the signature, meringue-covered pie. Slices and frozen slices on a stick are $3.75.
Upon opening in 2002, Bizcaya immediately became the top all-purpose restaurant destination in the Grove. For those looking for a dressed-to-impress place to take business colleagues or conservative visiting parents, the posh Ritz-Carlton setting was sure to please -- as was that portion of the menu devoted to straightforward grilled meats and fish (available with a selection of sauces). For more adventurous diners, there was the menu's other component: Willis Loughhead's culinary innovations. The dramatic division actually made for a slightly schizophrenic identity. No more. Though several staid steaks remain, as do some heirloom tomatoes, the Loughhead has revamped Bizcaya's offerings to focus on dishes reflecting the same creative concept as his wildly popular fresh linguine with Maine lobster Bolognese: updated, upscale continental classics. Beef Wellington, for instance, has been reinvented as wild salmon Wellington, with lobster sauce à l'americaine and a scallop duxelle in place of the old dish's liver pâté. With the substitution of stone crab, veal Oscar has become newly Americanized. Even duck à l'orange has been revolutionized as a three-part dish featuring blood-orange-glazed leg confit, crispy-skinned magret, and Grand Marnier foie-gras mousse -- an exciting journey from the trite and tradition-bound to cutting-edge yet accessible cuisine.
Upon opening in 2002, Bizcaya immediately became the top all-purpose restaurant destination in the Grove. For those looking for a dressed-to-impress place to take business colleagues or conservative visiting parents, the posh Ritz-Carlton setting was sure to please -- as was that portion of the menu devoted to straightforward grilled meats and fish (available with a selection of sauces). For more adventurous diners, there was the menu's other component: Willis Loughhead's culinary innovations. The dramatic division actually made for a slightly schizophrenic identity. No more. Though several staid steaks remain, as do some heirloom tomatoes, the Loughhead has revamped Bizcaya's offerings to focus on dishes reflecting the same creative concept as his wildly popular fresh linguine with Maine lobster Bolognese: updated, upscale continental classics. Beef Wellington, for instance, has been reinvented as wild salmon Wellington, with lobster sauce à l'americaine and a scallop duxelle in place of the old dish's liver pâté. With the substitution of stone crab, veal Oscar has become newly Americanized. Even duck à l'orange has been revolutionized as a three-part dish featuring blood-orange-glazed leg confit, crispy-skinned magret, and Grand Marnier foie-gras mousse -- an exciting journey from the trite and tradition-bound to cutting-edge yet accessible cuisine.
It is hard finding a seafood restaurant that cooks conch fritters actually loaded with conch. But for decades, South Florida's homegrown seafood restaurant chain has been serving up the most delectable conch fritters north of Key West. Unlike most places that serve up the fritters in tiny cornmeal balls, Flanigan's tradition is to deep-fry the shellfish inside in a flat, airy batter that resembles a potato pancake the size of a fist. The result is a crisp and tender fritter that is best washed down with a tall glass of draft ale or pilsner from Flanigan's tap.
It is hard finding a seafood restaurant that cooks conch fritters actually loaded with conch. But for decades, South Florida's homegrown seafood restaurant chain has been serving up the most delectable conch fritters north of Key West. Unlike most places that serve up the fritters in tiny cornmeal balls, Flanigan's tradition is to deep-fry the shellfish inside in a flat, airy batter that resembles a potato pancake the size of a fist. The result is a crisp and tender fritter that is best washed down with a tall glass of draft ale or pilsner from Flanigan's tap.
With its low ceiling and calming interior, Tree of Zion harkens back to the storefront health restaurants of yore, with the added influence of Rastafarianism abundant but not overpowering. The menu at ToZ is low-tech, handwritten daily on a dry-erase board. The food, however, is strictly modern vegetarian and vegan fare. Included in a typical day's offerings are "raw" pizza with fresh spinach, tomato, and olives; lentil soup; soy burgers on wheat toast; and a selection of meatless, Caribbean-style vegetable patties. Most menu items are priced at about $5.99 or less. This will leave you a few bucks to spare on the not-to-be-missed almond smoothie, a blend of soy milk, bananas, and almond butter served at a flavor-filled, less-than-freezing temperature.
With its low ceiling and calming interior, Tree of Zion harkens back to the storefront health restaurants of yore, with the added influence of Rastafarianism abundant but not overpowering. The menu at ToZ is low-tech, handwritten daily on a dry-erase board. The food, however, is strictly modern vegetarian and vegan fare. Included in a typical day's offerings are "raw" pizza with fresh spinach, tomato, and olives; lentil soup; soy burgers on wheat toast; and a selection of meatless, Caribbean-style vegetable patties. Most menu items are priced at about $5.99 or less. This will leave you a few bucks to spare on the not-to-be-missed almond smoothie, a blend of soy milk, bananas, and almond butter served at a flavor-filled, less-than-freezing temperature.
Just as Gandhi said you can judge a civilization by how it treats its animals, so we can judge a grocery by the way it treats its pasta lovers. Laurenzo's lacks some items considered standard fare for gourmet markets. Its selection of cheeses, imported chocolates, and prepared foods is a little lean compared with ritzy gourmet groceries like Epicure on Alton Road in South Beach. But take home a batch of Laurenzo's fresh homemade pasta and taste for yourself just how civilized a bunch of noodles can be. Any chef worth his apron knows the trick to gourmet cooking is not expensive-looking packaging, outlandish recipes, or plate layout, but fresh ingredients. The folks at Laurenzo's know this, too. One can create some mighty haute cuisine with the fresh basics this store specializes in. For example, a bag of fragrant basil leaves, a handful of plum tomatoes, a nice onion, any number of fine olive oils, a cut of meat from Laurenzo's fabled butcher shop, a loaf of bread from the market's superb bakery, a bottle or two from an extensive array of wines. Who needs a vast selection of hors d'oeuvres when there are juicy mozzarella balls and deliciously marinated olives like Laurenzo's has? Hours: 8:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. Monday to Friday; 8:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. Saturday; 8:30 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. Sunday.
Just as Gandhi said you can judge a civilization by how it treats its animals, so we can judge a grocery by the way it treats its pasta lovers. Laurenzo's lacks some items considered standard fare for gourmet markets. Its selection of cheeses, imported chocolates, and prepared foods is a little lean compared with ritzy gourmet groceries like Epicure on Alton Road in South Beach. But take home a batch of Laurenzo's fresh homemade pasta and taste for yourself just how civilized a bunch of noodles can be. Any chef worth his apron knows the trick to gourmet cooking is not expensive-looking packaging, outlandish recipes, or plate layout, but fresh ingredients. The folks at Laurenzo's know this, too. One can create some mighty haute cuisine with the fresh basics this store specializes in. For example, a bag of fragrant basil leaves, a handful of plum tomatoes, a nice onion, any number of fine olive oils, a cut of meat from Laurenzo's fabled butcher shop, a loaf of bread from the market's superb bakery, a bottle or two from an extensive array of wines. Who needs a vast selection of hors d'oeuvres when there are juicy mozzarella balls and deliciously marinated olives like Laurenzo's has? Hours: 8:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. Monday to Friday; 8:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. Saturday; 8:30 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. Sunday.
This casually stylish restaurant, whose namesake operates similar establishments in Paris, London, New York, and elsewhere, recently celebrated its sixth anniversary. And it's as popular as ever. No surprise given the smart design, friendly staff, welcoming atmosphere, and moderately priced menu of eclectic dishes prepared by the most consistent kitchen on the Beach. But the single ingredient that's vital to Joe Allen's continued success is this: its location. Hard by Biscayne Bay where the Venetian Causeway links to Miami Beach, Purdy Avenue isn't the forlorn warehouse strip it was when the restaurant opened, but it is still far off the beaten tourist path. That happy fact has allowed Joe Allen to concentrate on nurturing its faithful clientele of local residents. In return, they have adopted the place as a second home. And it's always nice to come home.
This casually stylish restaurant, whose namesake operates similar establishments in Paris, London, New York, and elsewhere, recently celebrated its sixth anniversary. And it's as popular as ever. No surprise given the smart design, friendly staff, welcoming atmosphere, and moderately priced menu of eclectic dishes prepared by the most consistent kitchen on the Beach. But the single ingredient that's vital to Joe Allen's continued success is this: its location. Hard by Biscayne Bay where the Venetian Causeway links to Miami Beach, Purdy Avenue isn't the forlorn warehouse strip it was when the restaurant opened, but it is still far off the beaten tourist path. That happy fact has allowed Joe Allen to concentrate on nurturing its faithful clientele of local residents. In return, they have adopted the place as a second home. And it's always nice to come home.
Since August 1999, when French native Philippe Jacquet joined with Miami native Scott Price to open this cozy little café, the place has become a neighborhood favorite, with scores of fiercely loyal customers dining here regularly -- strip mall or no strip mall. It's easy to see why. Aside from the friendly ambiance and charming décor (quite an accomplishment for a storefront operation), the food is consistently excellent across the full range of the menu -- from salads and soups to steaks and seafood. Their steamed mussels are justly famous, and if you like authentic French fries, this is the place. (Winner of Best French Fries, 2002.) The open kitchen is so small you'll wonder how it's possible such wonderful fare can be created in such cramped quarters. Answer: The chefs have perfected a culinary pas de deux that keeps them from crashing into each other. That, too, is a pleasure to behold.
Since August 1999, when French native Philippe Jacquet joined with Miami native Scott Price to open this cozy little café, the place has become a neighborhood favorite, with scores of fiercely loyal customers dining here regularly -- strip mall or no strip mall. It's easy to see why. Aside from the friendly ambiance and charming décor (quite an accomplishment for a storefront operation), the food is consistently excellent across the full range of the menu -- from salads and soups to steaks and seafood. Their steamed mussels are justly famous, and if you like authentic French fries, this is the place. (Winner of Best French Fries, 2002.) The open kitchen is so small you'll wonder how it's possible such wonderful fare can be created in such cramped quarters. Answer: The chefs have perfected a culinary pas de deux that keeps them from crashing into each other. That, too, is a pleasure to behold.
Yes, the LAC is the indigenous Miami version of a Denny's or an IHOP, but they know their proletariat comfort foods. Ask anyone with an obsession for medianoches and they will tell you the LAC has the rules down to perfection: Make them greasy and filling, with a pleasing balance of saltiness and a dash of sweet and sour flavor. And so the medianoche is the Cuban ham and cheese sandwich, but much improved upon: roast pork, ham, Swiss cheese, and pickles pressed between slices of soft, sweet egg bread. Some will add mayo or mustard, but that's up to individual preference. Now, if only the LAC would extend its hours to late, late night....
Yes, the LAC is the indigenous Miami version of a Denny's or an IHOP, but they know their proletariat comfort foods. Ask anyone with an obsession for medianoches and they will tell you the LAC has the rules down to perfection: Make them greasy and filling, with a pleasing balance of saltiness and a dash of sweet and sour flavor. And so the medianoche is the Cuban ham and cheese sandwich, but much improved upon: roast pork, ham, Swiss cheese, and pickles pressed between slices of soft, sweet egg bread. Some will add mayo or mustard, but that's up to individual preference. Now, if only the LAC would extend its hours to late, late night....
Indian restaurants of even the standard sort are hard to come by in these parts. Additionally, for whatever reason, they tend to be located in shopping malls. Renaisa is housed in a picturesque wooden structure on the Little River, which makes for an engaging atmosphere. Many of the menu items are specialties from Bangladesh, which makes for an engaging dining experience. Grab a private booth or table on the outdoor, riverside deck, open one of the cold beers you've brought with you (Renaisa has no liquor license but allows you to bring your own). As you peruse the menu, enjoy complimentary crisp-fried lentil pappadums with three relishes -- bittersweet tamarind, tangy red onion, and sinus-clearing cilantro. All the usual curries are available, but so are some wonderfully different alternatives such as the starter mass bora, half-a-dozen slightly mouth-tingling fried patties of spiced ground fish, sprinkled with cilantro plus onion and green pepper chunks. The traditional chicken roast features juicy chicken pieces in a sinfully rich cream/yogurt gravy. For dessert try scrumptious rosmalai -- sweetened, fried cheese balls in heavy cream sauce. And if you're curious about some specialty that's not on the menu -- like jhal muri, a wildly popular street snack in Bangladesh and the adjoining Indian state of Bengal (but near impossible to find in the U.S.) -- just call ahead and the friendly proprietors will accommodate.
Indian restaurants of even the standard sort are hard to come by in these parts. Additionally, for whatever reason, they tend to be located in shopping malls. Renaisa is housed in a picturesque wooden structure on the Little River, which makes for an engaging atmosphere. Many of the menu items are specialties from Bangladesh, which makes for an engaging dining experience. Grab a private booth or table on the outdoor, riverside deck, open one of the cold beers you've brought with you (Renaisa has no liquor license but allows you to bring your own). As you peruse the menu, enjoy complimentary crisp-fried lentil pappadums with three relishes -- bittersweet tamarind, tangy red onion, and sinus-clearing cilantro. All the usual curries are available, but so are some wonderfully different alternatives such as the starter mass bora, half-a-dozen slightly mouth-tingling fried patties of spiced ground fish, sprinkled with cilantro plus onion and green pepper chunks. The traditional chicken roast features juicy chicken pieces in a sinfully rich cream/yogurt gravy. For dessert try scrumptious rosmalai -- sweetened, fried cheese balls in heavy cream sauce. And if you're curious about some specialty that's not on the menu -- like jhal muri, a wildly popular street snack in Bangladesh and the adjoining Indian state of Bengal (but near impossible to find in the U.S.) -- just call ahead and the friendly proprietors will accommodate.
He's young. He's energetic enough to hound Miami fishing boat captains every day for the most sparkling local catches. He's compulsive enough to haunt Miami's university libraries uncovering the undersea world's deepest secrets. To be honest, he's a complete bleeding madman on the subject of uncooked fish, which is why you can count on finding nothing but the freshest -- never frozen -- seafood at Kevin Cory's sushi bar at Siam River. The Thai dishes are fine if your dining party includes fishphobes too timid to eat it raw, but serious sushiphiles will see finned specimens behind Kevin's counter that are virtually still flapping. This includes yellowtail, grouper, and all the usual suspects, but also unusual indigenous sea creatures: gray triggerfish, mutton snapper, cottonmouth jack, much more. Almost equally pristine imported seafood, overnighted from the Tokyo fish market, round out the menu. While you will find more subtly crafted, elegantly served dishes at fancier or more established sushi/ceviche spots like Nobu and Matsuri, you'll find fresher fish nowhere in town.
He's young. He's energetic enough to hound Miami fishing boat captains every day for the most sparkling local catches. He's compulsive enough to haunt Miami's university libraries uncovering the undersea world's deepest secrets. To be honest, he's a complete bleeding madman on the subject of uncooked fish, which is why you can count on finding nothing but the freshest -- never frozen -- seafood at Kevin Cory's sushi bar at Siam River. The Thai dishes are fine if your dining party includes fishphobes too timid to eat it raw, but serious sushiphiles will see finned specimens behind Kevin's counter that are virtually still flapping. This includes yellowtail, grouper, and all the usual suspects, but also unusual indigenous sea creatures: gray triggerfish, mutton snapper, cottonmouth jack, much more. Almost equally pristine imported seafood, overnighted from the Tokyo fish market, round out the menu. While you will find more subtly crafted, elegantly served dishes at fancier or more established sushi/ceviche spots like Nobu and Matsuri, you'll find fresher fish nowhere in town.
The Brazilian diaspora is all over town now, but its most marvelous manifestations are often hiding in places off the beaten path. Like that ultrasmooth Rio de Janeiro-style wax job inside your new girlfriend's old jeans. Or singer Rose Max's euphoria-inducing sets in candlelit bars, beyond the glare of thumping nightclubs. Cypo Café is also tucked away, although its purpose is to bring you pleasure in broad daylight. The owners, from the state of Minas Gerais in Brazil's heartland, moved into the heart of a Shell gas station at 71st Street and Abbott Avenue in North Beach about two years ago, where they set up culinary shop. The cramped café has only a few tables, which is why customers tend to call in and carry out the variety of platos tipicos on the Cypo menu. A daily special rotation includes muqueca de peixe (fish in a coconut, tomato, and pepper sauce); bobo de camarao (shrimp in a coconut, tomato, and creamed yuca sauce), frango com quiabo (chicken with okra, served with cornmeal purée), feijoada (black beans with pork, served with rice collard greens and fresh orange), and meat and mushroom stroganoff. Plates are a very reasonable $7 to $10 each.
The Brazilian diaspora is all over town now, but its most marvelous manifestations are often hiding in places off the beaten path. Like that ultrasmooth Rio de Janeiro-style wax job inside your new girlfriend's old jeans. Or singer Rose Max's euphoria-inducing sets in candlelit bars, beyond the glare of thumping nightclubs. Cypo Café is also tucked away, although its purpose is to bring you pleasure in broad daylight. The owners, from the state of Minas Gerais in Brazil's heartland, moved into the heart of a Shell gas station at 71st Street and Abbott Avenue in North Beach about two years ago, where they set up culinary shop. The cramped café has only a few tables, which is why customers tend to call in and carry out the variety of platos tipicos on the Cypo menu. A daily special rotation includes muqueca de peixe (fish in a coconut, tomato, and pepper sauce); bobo de camarao (shrimp in a coconut, tomato, and creamed yuca sauce), frango com quiabo (chicken with okra, served with cornmeal purée), feijoada (black beans with pork, served with rice collard greens and fresh orange), and meat and mushroom stroganoff. Plates are a very reasonable $7 to $10 each.
There's not a molten chocolate cake (the tired dessert that has been erupting on restaurant tables since the late 1990s) anywhere in sight here. Just an inventive variety of goodies including a giant cloud of cotton candy accompanied by truffle-filled popcorn balls; pints of handmade ice cream and bowls of hot fudge, nuts, and cherries to make your own sundae; an Eiffel Tower-tall chocolate layer cake; and the one retro-style sweet that is rarely seen on any menu but begs for a comeback: baked Alaska. At Barton G, though, the toasted meringue and ice cream concoction is called the Freedom Chimp, a nod to the restaurateur's beloved late pet Sabrina and to the sparkling chocolate simian that cheerfully announces the dessert's arrival at your table.
There's not a molten chocolate cake (the tired dessert that has been erupting on restaurant tables since the late 1990s) anywhere in sight here. Just an inventive variety of goodies including a giant cloud of cotton candy accompanied by truffle-filled popcorn balls; pints of handmade ice cream and bowls of hot fudge, nuts, and cherries to make your own sundae; an Eiffel Tower-tall chocolate layer cake; and the one retro-style sweet that is rarely seen on any menu but begs for a comeback: baked Alaska. At Barton G, though, the toasted meringue and ice cream concoction is called the Freedom Chimp, a nod to the restaurateur's beloved late pet Sabrina and to the sparkling chocolate simian that cheerfully announces the dessert's arrival at your table.
The chatty waitress with the raspberry rinse brags to whomever will listen that she made $385 working her shift during Hurricane Andrew. Yolanda may be full of stories but we know she doesn't lie. The classic diner that reaches back to the Thirties recently won historic designation, so you can count on the walls to withstand yet another wailing gale from the tropics. Every day they withstand the blustery tales told over breakfasts that originate with the classic diner's very own storm -- the feisty and lovable Hurricane Yoli.
The chatty waitress with the raspberry rinse brags to whomever will listen that she made $385 working her shift during Hurricane Andrew. Yolanda may be full of stories but we know she doesn't lie. The classic diner that reaches back to the Thirties recently won historic designation, so you can count on the walls to withstand yet another wailing gale from the tropics. Every day they withstand the blustery tales told over breakfasts that originate with the classic diner's very own storm -- the feisty and lovable Hurricane Yoli.
In addition to an expansive, stylish sit-down restaurant, Norman Van Aken's new Latin-influenced global brasserie Mundo has a sort of secret space: Tucked to one side is a limited but growing take-out market. Van Aken is, of course, the recipe mastermind. But the hands-on magician in the Mercado's kitchen is manager Marsha Orosco -- and her daily changing selection of prepared savories and sweets, while small, is simply scrumptious. Since the Mercado closes at 7:30 p.m., however, well before the restaurant, it is wise to shop before dinner even though schlepping a bulging grocery bag to your table may not be glam. The slight loss of cool will seem like nothing when lunch the next day is a sandwich of ham painted with a tangy/sweet guava and black pepper glaze, accompanied by smoky charred corn salad; or perhaps a container of vatapa, a nutty Brazilian stew packed with seafood, enriched with coconut milk, and enlivened by citrus.
In addition to an expansive, stylish sit-down restaurant, Norman Van Aken's new Latin-influenced global brasserie Mundo has a sort of secret space: Tucked to one side is a limited but growing take-out market. Van Aken is, of course, the recipe mastermind. But the hands-on magician in the Mercado's kitchen is manager Marsha Orosco -- and her daily changing selection of prepared savories and sweets, while small, is simply scrumptious. Since the Mercado closes at 7:30 p.m., however, well before the restaurant, it is wise to shop before dinner even though schlepping a bulging grocery bag to your table may not be glam. The slight loss of cool will seem like nothing when lunch the next day is a sandwich of ham painted with a tangy/sweet guava and black pepper glaze, accompanied by smoky charred corn salad; or perhaps a container of vatapa, a nutty Brazilian stew packed with seafood, enriched with coconut milk, and enlivened by citrus.
A couple of croquetas from Sergio's are a meal all by themselves. They're not the bite-size variety found at typical Spanish bakeries. But that's not what makes them the best. To begin with, let's acknowledge that a wiener-shaped conglomerate of ground, breaded, fried ham byproduct isn't the most complicated dish within the culinary arts, though simple things often yield the greatest pleasures. So the only trick is to not screw it up, which Sergio's never does. First they grind the cooking ham to its finest consistency; this is so the meat mix inside forms a smooth paste, no chunks. Then ingredients such as grated onions, peppers, and most important, plenty of garlic are added. Finally the croquetas are deep-fried in virgin olive oil. And if you have a midnight craving during the weekend, you don't have to wait till the next day to enjoy them. Sergio's is open 24 hours from Friday to Sunday.
A couple of croquetas from Sergio's are a meal all by themselves. They're not the bite-size variety found at typical Spanish bakeries. But that's not what makes them the best. To begin with, let's acknowledge that a wiener-shaped conglomerate of ground, breaded, fried ham byproduct isn't the most complicated dish within the culinary arts, though simple things often yield the greatest pleasures. So the only trick is to not screw it up, which Sergio's never does. First they grind the cooking ham to its finest consistency; this is so the meat mix inside forms a smooth paste, no chunks. Then ingredients such as grated onions, peppers, and most important, plenty of garlic are added. Finally the croquetas are deep-fried in virgin olive oil. And if you have a midnight craving during the weekend, you don't have to wait till the next day to enjoy them. Sergio's is open 24 hours from Friday to Sunday.
At a power lunch the idea is to subtly one-up the other guy, to be intimidating while simultaneously demonstrating what a cool character you are. Chispa, which means "spark" (a nicely dangerous suggestion), is the ideal setting for this traditional dance of the business set. So sweep your client into a big booth in the A-list main room, ignoring the wimp tables in the outer area. The brainchild of chef/proprietor Robbin Haas, Chispa specializes in small plates, protein-packed Nuevo Latino ceviches like sliced salmon and avocado with a perfectly balanced sauce of sour orange, cumin, and honey. If the deal is clinched halfway through the meal, celebrate with a chunk of guava-cream cheese cake, which will instantly raise your cholesterol at least a hundred points, but is well worth it.
At a power lunch the idea is to subtly one-up the other guy, to be intimidating while simultaneously demonstrating what a cool character you are. Chispa, which means "spark" (a nicely dangerous suggestion), is the ideal setting for this traditional dance of the business set. So sweep your client into a big booth in the A-list main room, ignoring the wimp tables in the outer area. The brainchild of chef/proprietor Robbin Haas, Chispa specializes in small plates, protein-packed Nuevo Latino ceviches like sliced salmon and avocado with a perfectly balanced sauce of sour orange, cumin, and honey. If the deal is clinched halfway through the meal, celebrate with a chunk of guava-cream cheese cake, which will instantly raise your cholesterol at least a hundred points, but is well worth it.
BEST DINING INDULGENCE
Sensory Odyssey Dinner at the Ritz-Carlton Key Biscayne
Money to burn is one thing. Money to eat is another. And possessing a whopping bank balance is definitely a requirement if you want to treat anyone to a lavish meal like the Ritz-Carlton's Sensory Odyssey Dinner. When you and your guest arrive, a private butler leads the way through a lush garden down a rose-petal-strewn path to an oceanfront gazebo under the stars. A strolling violinist plays softly as you're served an aphrodisiac-filled five-course dinner that could include chilled oysters; exotic figs with arugula, prosciutto, and pine nuts in a truffle vinaigrette; and coriander-seared tuna with ginger-carrot oil and asparagus. Of course copious quantities of wine, specially paired with each course, flow throughout the night. A chocolate, licorice, and honey dessert accompanied by vanilla coffee and chocolate truffles is likely to bring a sweet ending to the sybaritic feast. The only thing dinner doesn't include: an antacid, which might come in handy when the bill arrives. Dazzling the senses will cost $800 per couple, plus tax and gratuity. Reservations are required at least 48 hours in advance.
BEST DINING INDULGENCE
Sensory Odyssey Dinner at the Ritz-Carlton Key Biscayne
Money to burn is one thing. Money to eat is another. And possessing a whopping bank balance is definitely a requirement if you want to treat anyone to a lavish meal like the Ritz-Carlton's Sensory Odyssey Dinner. When you and your guest arrive, a private butler leads the way through a lush garden down a rose-petal-strewn path to an oceanfront gazebo under the stars. A strolling violinist plays softly as you're served an aphrodisiac-filled five-course dinner that could include chilled oysters; exotic figs with arugula, prosciutto, and pine nuts in a truffle vinaigrette; and coriander-seared tuna with ginger-carrot oil and asparagus. Of course copious quantities of wine, specially paired with each course, flow throughout the night. A chocolate, licorice, and honey dessert accompanied by vanilla coffee and chocolate truffles is likely to bring a sweet ending to the sybaritic feast. The only thing dinner doesn't include: an antacid, which might come in handy when the bill arrives. Dazzling the senses will cost $800 per couple, plus tax and gratuity. Reservations are required at least 48 hours in advance.
On a busy night, it wouldn't be unusual to see Papa Nunzio struggling with two shopping carts filled with fresh ingredients from the Publix across the way in the same shopping center. Mama Nunzio would most likely be in the kitchen yelling in Italian at her staff to cook faster, and their sons would be taking food orders and talking soccer with the guests. The Nunzios, originally from Naples, have been providing Miami with home-cooked Italian meals since 1974. This is definitely a family venture, and even though the sons are grown and have other careers (one's a professore at Miami Dade College), they all chip in, whether it be answering phones, taking orders, or just interpreting for their parents, who don't speak a word of English. New Times wholeheartedly recommends this little piece of Italy for those who can appreciate quality mixed with an unpretentious atmosphere. Everything on the menu is great, but we had a predisposition to the garlic bread with cheese appetizer and Trochete Spinachi entrée, and by the time zupetta came our taste buds were in a state of orgasmic bliss.
On a busy night, it wouldn't be unusual to see Papa Nunzio struggling with two shopping carts filled with fresh ingredients from the Publix across the way in the same shopping center. Mama Nunzio would most likely be in the kitchen yelling in Italian at her staff to cook faster, and their sons would be taking food orders and talking soccer with the guests. The Nunzios, originally from Naples, have been providing Miami with home-cooked Italian meals since 1974. This is definitely a family venture, and even though the sons are grown and have other careers (one's a professore at Miami Dade College), they all chip in, whether it be answering phones, taking orders, or just interpreting for their parents, who don't speak a word of English. New Times wholeheartedly recommends this little piece of Italy for those who can appreciate quality mixed with an unpretentious atmosphere. Everything on the menu is great, but we had a predisposition to the garlic bread with cheese appetizer and Trochete Spinachi entrée, and by the time zupetta came our taste buds were in a state of orgasmic bliss.
So-called quick-casual restaurants are popping up all across America. The concept combines fast-food speed and service with higher-quality food, which is supposedly healthier and fresher. Baja Fresh, a Mexican-inspired operation (owned since 2002 by Wendy's), advertises that it has no freezers on its premises. It also has something most other chains don't: food that tastes good. As expected from the name, seafood items are particularly notable. The cabbage-and-salsa-topped Baja fish taco is succulent (the fillets are battered and fried), and the creamy white sauce kicks the flavor up many notches. Baja's charbroiled wild Gulf shrimp taco is just as tasty. Shell out a modest amount of cash for the nicely blackened, fire-roasted cebollitas (green onions), one order of which will spice up four tacos. Complete your creation with some chunky pico de gallo from the salsa bar in back. Then witness your taste buds get happy -- quickly.
So-called quick-casual restaurants are popping up all across America. The concept combines fast-food speed and service with higher-quality food, which is supposedly healthier and fresher. Baja Fresh, a Mexican-inspired operation (owned since 2002 by Wendy's), advertises that it has no freezers on its premises. It also has something most other chains don't: food that tastes good. As expected from the name, seafood items are particularly notable. The cabbage-and-salsa-topped Baja fish taco is succulent (the fillets are battered and fried), and the creamy white sauce kicks the flavor up many notches. Baja's charbroiled wild Gulf shrimp taco is just as tasty. Shell out a modest amount of cash for the nicely blackened, fire-roasted cebollitas (green onions), one order of which will spice up four tacos. Complete your creation with some chunky pico de gallo from the salsa bar in back. Then witness your taste buds get happy -- quickly.
The tastiest spot in the nation, let alone Miami, is a 35-acre public park in the heart of the Redland. Fruit and Spice Park has been tempting the palates of adventurous locals for 60 years with more than 500 varieties of exotic edible plants. Lychee, sapodilla, Malay apple, paradise nut, and carambola (star apple) are just a few of the treats to gnaw on during a visit. If gardening or crafts are more your speed, there are numerous workshops and festivals scattered throughout the year. This is also the spot to spend some time meditating in luscious groves.
The tastiest spot in the nation, let alone Miami, is a 35-acre public park in the heart of the Redland. Fruit and Spice Park has been tempting the palates of adventurous locals for 60 years with more than 500 varieties of exotic edible plants. Lychee, sapodilla, Malay apple, paradise nut, and carambola (star apple) are just a few of the treats to gnaw on during a visit. If gardening or crafts are more your speed, there are numerous workshops and festivals scattered throughout the year. This is also the spot to spend some time meditating in luscious groves.
Once you see the open-pit rotisserie in the middle of the dining room, che, you'll understand why Graziano's leaves even the most ravenous carnivore sedated after a full-course meal. Tender cuts of churrasco steaks, blood sausage, and other meats are grilled over the flames burning quebracho, a South American smoking wood. A word of caution: You might want to leave your PETA friends at home for this dining excursion, what with the skinless suckling pigs, lambs, and rabbits hanging from the ceiling. But if your veggie pals can handle the scenery, Graziano's offers a meatless vegetable parillada. Of course, no meal at Graziano's would be complete without sampling the restaurant's extensive wine selection, which emphasizes Argentine and Chilean labels and which won Best Wine Selection in a Restaurant in last year's Best of Miami.
Once you see the open-pit rotisserie in the middle of the dining room, che, you'll understand why Graziano's leaves even the most ravenous carnivore sedated after a full-course meal. Tender cuts of churrasco steaks, blood sausage, and other meats are grilled over the flames burning quebracho, a South American smoking wood. A word of caution: You might want to leave your PETA friends at home for this dining excursion, what with the skinless suckling pigs, lambs, and rabbits hanging from the ceiling. But if your veggie pals can handle the scenery, Graziano's offers a meatless vegetable parillada. Of course, no meal at Graziano's would be complete without sampling the restaurant's extensive wine selection, which emphasizes Argentine and Chilean labels and which won Best Wine Selection in a Restaurant in last year's Best of Miami.
This place's actual full name is Captain Jim Hanson's Seafood Market and Restaurant. But no one would waste time wrapping their mouths around that moniker when they could be wrapping their mouths around Captain Jim's grouper sandwich. The size is impressive (two fillets) and so are the accompaniments of hush puppies and crisp slaw, but what makes the sandwich so superior is the fish's freshness. The captain, who really is a fishing boat skipper, respects fish, as is evident by the sparkling appearance of the extensive fish counter's catches of the day. This includes South Florida's usual groupers and mahi-mahi plus natives available in our oceans yet unavailable in most of our markets and restaurants (amberjack, bonito, grunt, much more), as well as flown-in seafood such as Bahamian conch. The captain also respects pocketbooks, as is evident by his wholesale prices; stone crabs are generally half (often less) the price of Joe's or Epicure's. Retail and restaurant hours expanded just last year, so you can score a great grouper sandwich -- or the fishy fixings to do it yourself -- till 9:00 p.m.
This place's actual full name is Captain Jim Hanson's Seafood Market and Restaurant. But no one would waste time wrapping their mouths around that moniker when they could be wrapping their mouths around Captain Jim's grouper sandwich. The size is impressive (two fillets) and so are the accompaniments of hush puppies and crisp slaw, but what makes the sandwich so superior is the fish's freshness. The captain, who really is a fishing boat skipper, respects fish, as is evident by the sparkling appearance of the extensive fish counter's catches of the day. This includes South Florida's usual groupers and mahi-mahi plus natives available in our oceans yet unavailable in most of our markets and restaurants (amberjack, bonito, grunt, much more), as well as flown-in seafood such as Bahamian conch. The captain also respects pocketbooks, as is evident by his wholesale prices; stone crabs are generally half (often less) the price of Joe's or Epicure's. Retail and restaurant hours expanded just last year, so you can score a great grouper sandwich -- or the fishy fixings to do it yourself -- till 9:00 p.m.
Some diners are scared off by this Coral Gables success story's fancy-schmancy menu and upscale service and ambiance. The few others who avoid it are people who want more food than garnish on their plate. Both groups should go anyway for one simple reason: the pork chop. How simple is that? And it's way bigger than any garnish. Besides, this is not just a pork chop -- this is the ultimate, the champion of the world, the thickest, sweetest, most satisfying piece of pig flesh in town. Down with dime-size crab-and-fruit cakes, down with pretension, down with menu items that require translation. Fill up on one of these pork chops and drop your fear of being underfed. You'll be an Ortanique fan like everyone else, but for a different reason. The pork chop. The pork chop.
Some diners are scared off by this Coral Gables success story's fancy-schmancy menu and upscale service and ambiance. The few others who avoid it are people who want more food than garnish on their plate. Both groups should go anyway for one simple reason: the pork chop. How simple is that? And it's way bigger than any garnish. Besides, this is not just a pork chop -- this is the ultimate, the champion of the world, the thickest, sweetest, most satisfying piece of pig flesh in town. Down with dime-size crab-and-fruit cakes, down with pretension, down with menu items that require translation. Fill up on one of these pork chops and drop your fear of being underfed. You'll be an Ortanique fan like everyone else, but for a different reason. The pork chop. The pork chop.
The Thai House, run by cousins Timmy Junbua and Ae Thanoosorn, is so authentic it maintains two menus, one in English and one in Thai. They are not the same. If you know your Thai, you can order dishes that might sear a Westerner's mouth but please the native tongue -- for example, kuay-tiaw-ruar, a medley of Thai noodles, broccoli, and beef in a mix of strong spices (starting at $7.95). On the English-language side, specialties include diamond duck, a deep-fried duck served with dry fried onions, garlic, and roasted hot peppers ($18.95). In South Beach's ever-shifting landscape, Thai House has survived for nine years, testament to how well the cousins do their job.
The Thai House, run by cousins Timmy Junbua and Ae Thanoosorn, is so authentic it maintains two menus, one in English and one in Thai. They are not the same. If you know your Thai, you can order dishes that might sear a Westerner's mouth but please the native tongue -- for example, kuay-tiaw-ruar, a medley of Thai noodles, broccoli, and beef in a mix of strong spices (starting at $7.95). On the English-language side, specialties include diamond duck, a deep-fried duck served with dry fried onions, garlic, and roasted hot peppers ($18.95). In South Beach's ever-shifting landscape, Thai House has survived for nine years, testament to how well the cousins do their job.
The restaurant at Laurenzo's Italian Market isn't really much of a restaurant in the classic table-service kind of way, what with the cafeteria line running past steam trays and a décor that might be described as church-rec-room-homeless-shelter classique. But for cheap Italian eats, you won't find higher-quality baked ziti for your buck than here. More Bronx than Bologna, the red sauce (marinara? I got your marinara right here, pal) used in their daily pasta specials ($3.50) is flavored with a nice blend of herbs and spices. The entrée specials like Italian sausage and peppers will not only load you up, at $5.99 they'll keep you financially solvent. Added bonus: You won't have to eat for another two days.
The restaurant at Laurenzo's Italian Market isn't really much of a restaurant in the classic table-service kind of way, what with the cafeteria line running past steam trays and a décor that might be described as church-rec-room-homeless-shelter classique. But for cheap Italian eats, you won't find higher-quality baked ziti for your buck than here. More Bronx than Bologna, the red sauce (marinara? I got your marinara right here, pal) used in their daily pasta specials ($3.50) is flavored with a nice blend of herbs and spices. The entrée specials like Italian sausage and peppers will not only load you up, at $5.99 they'll keep you financially solvent. Added bonus: You won't have to eat for another two days.
Loyal clientele have been lured to this little storefront on Biscayne for years. Authentic baguettes, quiches, and French pastries are baked daily in their ovens. But one of the great attractions here is a trio of classic salads served in a pain de campagne (a crusty country loaf). Giant servings of romaine lettuce and tasty dressings fill a carved-out bread bowl. It would be a dieter's paradise except that once the dressings coat the bread, you're liable to toss out the greens and just munch on the fresh-baked "bowls" instead. You can also opt for soup in a loaf. Specials are offered so you can have a little bit of salad (served on a plate) coupled with a sandwich or quiche slice.
Loyal clientele have been lured to this little storefront on Biscayne for years. Authentic baguettes, quiches, and French pastries are baked daily in their ovens. But one of the great attractions here is a trio of classic salads served in a pain de campagne (a crusty country loaf). Giant servings of romaine lettuce and tasty dressings fill a carved-out bread bowl. It would be a dieter's paradise except that once the dressings coat the bread, you're liable to toss out the greens and just munch on the fresh-baked "bowls" instead. You can also opt for soup in a loaf. Specials are offered so you can have a little bit of salad (served on a plate) coupled with a sandwich or quiche slice.
The best Cuban restaurant should feature the best Cuban food, right? But that's not so easy to determine in a town with as many Cuban eateries as Miami. A judge could spend a lifetime sampling a million dishes. Most would agree, though, that the fare at Versailles ranks near the top. Cuban specialties hit the spot every time, from the bocaditos to dishes with generous portions of arroz con frijoles negros accompanying any meat, fish, or poultry. They make all their own bread and desserts at the bakery next door. And the price is right. You can manage a full meal for about ten bucks. However, it's the cultural experience that draws so many locals and tourists to this icon of Little Havana. Example: One day last summer Rep. Lincoln Diaz-Balart and Cuban American National Foundation executive director Joe Garcia happened to be there for lunch. Not at the same table, of course. (To call them el exilio rivals would be an understatement.) Without warning or provocation, and in front of about 100 awed but not surprised diners, Diaz-Balart unleashed a very loud tirade from across the dining room. Garcia, he shouted, was a "traitor" to the exile cause. Witnesses say Garcia responded to Diaz-Balart's finger-pointing outburst by sharing a laugh with his tablemates and digging back into his plate. Diaz-Balart and his entourage then stormed out. Only in Miami? Sure. But at Versailles? Often.
The best Cuban restaurant should feature the best Cuban food, right? But that's not so easy to determine in a town with as many Cuban eateries as Miami. A judge could spend a lifetime sampling a million dishes. Most would agree, though, that the fare at Versailles ranks near the top. Cuban specialties hit the spot every time, from the bocaditos to dishes with generous portions of arroz con frijoles negros accompanying any meat, fish, or poultry. They make all their own bread and desserts at the bakery next door. And the price is right. You can manage a full meal for about ten bucks. However, it's the cultural experience that draws so many locals and tourists to this icon of Little Havana. Example: One day last summer Rep. Lincoln Diaz-Balart and Cuban American National Foundation executive director Joe Garcia happened to be there for lunch. Not at the same table, of course. (To call them el exilio rivals would be an understatement.) Without warning or provocation, and in front of about 100 awed but not surprised diners, Diaz-Balart unleashed a very loud tirade from across the dining room. Garcia, he shouted, was a "traitor" to the exile cause. Witnesses say Garcia responded to Diaz-Balart's finger-pointing outburst by sharing a laugh with his tablemates and digging back into his plate. Diaz-Balart and his entourage then stormed out. Only in Miami? Sure. But at Versailles? Often.
When Miami Beach was known as God's Waiting Room, it was filled with the most heavenly treats. Hamantaschen, rugelach, and almond horns were enjoyed by area sweet tooths of all faiths. But with the slow migration of Miami-Dade's Jewish culture to points north, so went the traditional bakeries. Abraham's has outlasted many of its competitors, and for good reason. It's strictly kosher and pareve (great for vegetarians and lactose-intolerants), so you can count on knowing what goes into your desserts, but they also bake on a daily basis, which makes for a fresh goodness not easily found. All the traditional sweets and regular bread products are available as well. Sure, there are lots of new bakeries around but for the flavor of old Miami, nothing beats a delicious black-and-white cookie.
When Miami Beach was known as God's Waiting Room, it was filled with the most heavenly treats. Hamantaschen, rugelach, and almond horns were enjoyed by area sweet tooths of all faiths. But with the slow migration of Miami-Dade's Jewish culture to points north, so went the traditional bakeries. Abraham's has outlasted many of its competitors, and for good reason. It's strictly kosher and pareve (great for vegetarians and lactose-intolerants), so you can count on knowing what goes into your desserts, but they also bake on a daily basis, which makes for a fresh goodness not easily found. All the traditional sweets and regular bread products are available as well. Sure, there are lots of new bakeries around but for the flavor of old Miami, nothing beats a delicious black-and-white cookie.
You won't find the Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test at the Grateful Deli, but you will encounter subs, cold-cut meats, and other delicious treats of psychedelic proportions. The joint's smallest bread size is a ten-inch hoagie. This deli also offers rye-wheat tortilla wraps for its patrons who are counting their carbohydrates. The menu, taking its cue from classic rock songs, offers a number of sub specials such as the "Hotel California," a combination of smoked turkey, baked ham, Swiss cheese, and spicy mustard, or the "Tell Me Why," featuring roast beef, smoked turkey, grilled peppers, fresh mozzarella, and oil and vinegar. As you wait for your order, vintage posters of all-time greats like Jimi Hendrix and the Who pay homage to the halcyon days of tie-dye shirts. The only bummer is that a trip to the Grateful Deli ends early. Its hours of operation are 9:00 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. Monday through Friday and 9:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. on Saturday.
You won't find the Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test at the Grateful Deli, but you will encounter subs, cold-cut meats, and other delicious treats of psychedelic proportions. The joint's smallest bread size is a ten-inch hoagie. This deli also offers rye-wheat tortilla wraps for its patrons who are counting their carbohydrates. The menu, taking its cue from classic rock songs, offers a number of sub specials such as the "Hotel California," a combination of smoked turkey, baked ham, Swiss cheese, and spicy mustard, or the "Tell Me Why," featuring roast beef, smoked turkey, grilled peppers, fresh mozzarella, and oil and vinegar. As you wait for your order, vintage posters of all-time greats like Jimi Hendrix and the Who pay homage to the halcyon days of tie-dye shirts. The only bummer is that a trip to the Grateful Deli ends early. Its hours of operation are 9:00 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. Monday through Friday and 9:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. on Saturday.
Solo diners often feel uncomfortably like actors in a one-person show, with all audience eyes on the next forkful heading to the mouth. At Talula, though, singles can avoid the table and the awkward, onstage feel by taking one of five stools at the informal, inconspicuous "food bar" in the back of the room. Here eating is entertainment, but you're not the star. It's more like watching a live version of the Food Network. Overlooking the restaurant's kitchen, the bar provides front-row seats to one of South Beach's hottest shows: skillful line cooks (supervised by chef/owners Andrea Curto and Frank Randazzo) deftly whipping up the subtly chili-spiked ahi tuna tartare, crisp soft-shell crabs, and the chocolate bread pudding you just ordered -- or should have.
Solo diners often feel uncomfortably like actors in a one-person show, with all audience eyes on the next forkful heading to the mouth. At Talula, though, singles can avoid the table and the awkward, onstage feel by taking one of five stools at the informal, inconspicuous "food bar" in the back of the room. Here eating is entertainment, but you're not the star. It's more like watching a live version of the Food Network. Overlooking the restaurant's kitchen, the bar provides front-row seats to one of South Beach's hottest shows: skillful line cooks (supervised by chef/owners Andrea Curto and Frank Randazzo) deftly whipping up the subtly chili-spiked ahi tuna tartare, crisp soft-shell crabs, and the chocolate bread pudding you just ordered -- or should have.
You're sixteen. You slip on your best bell-bottom pants and hop in your '67 Malibu. You pick up your date, hit Burger King for dinner, and head to the drive-in theater for a double feature (one monster movie, the other a bikini fest sans plot). Then you roll into your neighborhood Dairy Queen (every neighborhood has one) for a nightcap. You buy a couple of cones dipped in that quick-hardening chocolate, sit on the hood of your Chevy, admire the starry night, say something to schoolmates as they arrive, and go home by curfew with white stuff at the corners of your mouth, a drop or two on your cheeks or chin. Ah. Now fast-forward to 2004. You're old and tired, feeling nostalgic, still availed of a sweet tooth. This plastered two-window shack features a pair of picnic tables (stone with tile inlay) and not much else (no personal pizzas or hamburgers like at modern DQs), which is why it takes you right back to the days of K.C. and Colt 45 malt liquor. In fact the lever from which Mary Rauls squeezes heaps of manna (vanilla, chocolate) is attached to the same machines installed for the 1956 grand opening. Two little windows, a nice woman, and an array of ice cream concoctions (plus that gushy drink called a Misty) transport you to your glory days as the sugary goo drips from the cone. Young again, in a better Miami. Then you discover that this holdout is well into the permit process for the addition of a drive-through window and your last illusion dies.
You're sixteen. You slip on your best bell-bottom pants and hop in your '67 Malibu. You pick up your date, hit Burger King for dinner, and head to the drive-in theater for a double feature (one monster movie, the other a bikini fest sans plot). Then you roll into your neighborhood Dairy Queen (every neighborhood has one) for a nightcap. You buy a couple of cones dipped in that quick-hardening chocolate, sit on the hood of your Chevy, admire the starry night, say something to schoolmates as they arrive, and go home by curfew with white stuff at the corners of your mouth, a drop or two on your cheeks or chin. Ah. Now fast-forward to 2004. You're old and tired, feeling nostalgic, still availed of a sweet tooth. This plastered two-window shack features a pair of picnic tables (stone with tile inlay) and not much else (no personal pizzas or hamburgers like at modern DQs), which is why it takes you right back to the days of K.C. and Colt 45 malt liquor. In fact the lever from which Mary Rauls squeezes heaps of manna (vanilla, chocolate) is attached to the same machines installed for the 1956 grand opening. Two little windows, a nice woman, and an array of ice cream concoctions (plus that gushy drink called a Misty) transport you to your glory days as the sugary goo drips from the cone. Young again, in a better Miami. Then you discover that this holdout is well into the permit process for the addition of a drive-through window and your last illusion dies.
This winner is no surprise. Chef Carmen Gonzalez's Latin-influenced, post-New American eatery has landed on the hottest-new-restaurant list of so many national publications that any other pick would be scandalous. If the place were booked any more solidly (even on weeknights), diners would have to crowd onto the chef's lap -- difficult given that Gonzalez is a petite four feet eleven. Nevertheless she turns out some mighty big, bold food. Though her heritage is Puerto Rican, her food is not so much Nuevo Latino as Nuevo Pan American, creatively incorporating influences and ingredients from both hemispheres into North/South American fusion dishes, with an occasional pinch of Asia thrown in for fun. Carmen is actually two eateries in one, a formal restaurant and a casually elegant wine bar with a menu of "chef's favorite" light bites such as Florida lobster and avocado terrine, garnished with house-made key lime mayonnaise and crisp plantain fritters. In the formal dining space, grilled whole pompano with island mojito and yuca mofongo is a typical entrée. And everything everywhere, from the ketchup topping the bar's burger to the olive-pimento-roasted-garlic-cilantro compound butter that comes with the restaurant's bread, is made from scratch.
This winner is no surprise. Chef Carmen Gonzalez's Latin-influenced, post-New American eatery has landed on the hottest-new-restaurant list of so many national publications that any other pick would be scandalous. If the place were booked any more solidly (even on weeknights), diners would have to crowd onto the chef's lap -- difficult given that Gonzalez is a petite four feet eleven. Nevertheless she turns out some mighty big, bold food. Though her heritage is Puerto Rican, her food is not so much Nuevo Latino as Nuevo Pan American, creatively incorporating influences and ingredients from both hemispheres into North/South American fusion dishes, with an occasional pinch of Asia thrown in for fun. Carmen is actually two eateries in one, a formal restaurant and a casually elegant wine bar with a menu of "chef's favorite" light bites such as Florida lobster and avocado terrine, garnished with house-made key lime mayonnaise and crisp plantain fritters. In the formal dining space, grilled whole pompano with island mojito and yuca mofongo is a typical entrée. And everything everywhere, from the ketchup topping the bar's burger to the olive-pimento-roasted-garlic-cilantro compound butter that comes with the restaurant's bread, is made from scratch.
Miami's pizza wars continue to heat up, as more and more establishments heat up the wood ovens necessary to produce the fragrantly flavorful charred crusts that characterize authentic Italian pizza. Still the Lincoln Road area continues to be the explosion's epicenter, and its sidewalk tables on the unmatchable people-watching pathway give Spris the edge over worthy contenders such as Piola (around the corner on Alton Road), Tutto on Coral Way, and its own younger sibling Spris in the Gables. Admittedly the square Roman-style pies at Pizza Rustica, which recently opened a Lincoln Road branch, are a hard act to beat. But Spris's pizza crafters from The Source -- Naples -- just seem to get better; these days it usually isn't even necessary, as it once was, to ask for a well-done pie in order to get a thin-crusted beauty with perfect burn bubbles around the perimeter. All manner of exotica is available in terms of toppings (including no-sauce "white pizzas" and no-cheese seafood and vegan versions). But nothing's tastier than the basic Margherita with pungent tomato sauce, fresh basil, and more than just the dabs of mozzarella some terminally trendy places apply with an eyedropper. Substitute buffalo for the cow's milk mozzarella and add a sprinkling of fresh arugula for a truly transcendent treat.
Miami's pizza wars continue to heat up, as more and more establishments heat up the wood ovens necessary to produce the fragrantly flavorful charred crusts that characterize authentic Italian pizza. Still the Lincoln Road area continues to be the explosion's epicenter, and its sidewalk tables on the unmatchable people-watching pathway give Spris the edge over worthy contenders such as Piola (around the corner on Alton Road), Tutto on Coral Way, and its own younger sibling Spris in the Gables. Admittedly the square Roman-style pies at Pizza Rustica, which recently opened a Lincoln Road branch, are a hard act to beat. But Spris's pizza crafters from The Source -- Naples -- just seem to get better; these days it usually isn't even necessary, as it once was, to ask for a well-done pie in order to get a thin-crusted beauty with perfect burn bubbles around the perimeter. All manner of exotica is available in terms of toppings (including no-sauce "white pizzas" and no-cheese seafood and vegan versions). But nothing's tastier than the basic Margherita with pungent tomato sauce, fresh basil, and more than just the dabs of mozzarella some terminally trendy places apply with an eyedropper. Substitute buffalo for the cow's milk mozzarella and add a sprinkling of fresh arugula for a truly transcendent treat.
The food at Jumbo's certainly qualifies as soul food but will read, and eat, as simply Southern to anyone who has spent time in Georgia or the Carolinas. The iced tea is sweet, and the greens -- collard, mustard, kale, or turnip -- are salty with bobbing bits of fatback. Other sides, such as black-eyed peas, bring good luck as well as memories of holiday feasts. As is the case with many old-timey diners, the smell of batter and grease is deeply ingrained in all porous surfaces, and will remain with you as a reminder of your hearty meal until you next wash your hair. In Jumbo's case, the ageless odor is understandable -- the Liberty City restaurant has been in constant operation for more than 40 years. Open late, open early, and located just a short jaunt from I-95, Jumbo's survives on more than sentiment. The crackling fried chicken, generous shrimp platters, and groaning, comforting plates full of biscuits, gravy, corn, peas, and beans are beloved by many psyches. For that kind of well-being, you can forget fat and carb grams for a while.
The food at Jumbo's certainly qualifies as soul food but will read, and eat, as simply Southern to anyone who has spent time in Georgia or the Carolinas. The iced tea is sweet, and the greens -- collard, mustard, kale, or turnip -- are salty with bobbing bits of fatback. Other sides, such as black-eyed peas, bring good luck as well as memories of holiday feasts. As is the case with many old-timey diners, the smell of batter and grease is deeply ingrained in all porous surfaces, and will remain with you as a reminder of your hearty meal until you next wash your hair. In Jumbo's case, the ageless odor is understandable -- the Liberty City restaurant has been in constant operation for more than 40 years. Open late, open early, and located just a short jaunt from I-95, Jumbo's survives on more than sentiment. The crackling fried chicken, generous shrimp platters, and groaning, comforting plates full of biscuits, gravy, corn, peas, and beans are beloved by many psyches. For that kind of well-being, you can forget fat and carb grams for a while.
When you think in purist terms about top Japanese eateries, the impeccably classic cuisine at Matsuri (in the Redbird Mall) comes to mind; so does the home cooking at Hiro San in North Miami Beach. But aesthetics play a major role in the Japanese dining experience, and on that score nothing tops Nobu. Located in the glamorous Shore Club, everything about the restaurant is an aesthetic pleasure, from overall décor to small touches at each table. Which is not to say that Nobu Matsuhisa's famed specialties don't measure up. They do, even acknowledging that they are highly personal, Peruvian-influenced takes on Japanese cuisine. Burstingly juicy arctic char with crispy spinach will make you swoon. Two tempuras, of sea urchin and rock shrimp (the former accompanied by tangy yuzu dip, the latter by a spicy cream sauce), are as tasty as they are unusual. And while knockoffs of Nobu's succulent, signature black cod with miso can now be found everywhere, Matsuhisa did it first and still does it best.
When you think in purist terms about top Japanese eateries, the impeccably classic cuisine at Matsuri (in the Redbird Mall) comes to mind; so does the home cooking at Hiro San in North Miami Beach. But aesthetics play a major role in the Japanese dining experience, and on that score nothing tops Nobu. Located in the glamorous Shore Club, everything about the restaurant is an aesthetic pleasure, from overall décor to small touches at each table. Which is not to say that Nobu Matsuhisa's famed specialties don't measure up. They do, even acknowledging that they are highly personal, Peruvian-influenced takes on Japanese cuisine. Burstingly juicy arctic char with crispy spinach will make you swoon. Two tempuras, of sea urchin and rock shrimp (the former accompanied by tangy yuzu dip, the latter by a spicy cream sauce), are as tasty as they are unusual. And while knockoffs of Nobu's succulent, signature black cod with miso can now be found everywhere, Matsuhisa did it first and still does it best.
Talk about running with scissors. Bratty Kevin Cory runs around with a knife -- sometimes more than one, and not of the butter variety. The chef at Siam River sushi bar, Cory puts his sharp tongue and sharp blade to use talking, dishing, and serving the most innovative, undoubtedly freshest sushi in town. Siam River also has an excellent selection of Thai food, for those who avoid uncooked finned things.
The mostly self-trained Cory haunts the docks and airport seeking only the freshest, never-frozen fish and crustaceans for Siam River's (literally) lively selection of menu items, which change daily according to what the nets bring in.
Cory will talk your ear off about snatching abalone from the Pacific or triggerfish from the surf, but that's okay -- when at Siam River, you'll be busy stuffing your face.
Best Mile in Miami
From I-395 to Fifth Street
Enjoy the commute during the rising or falling of the sun. See the setting of the moon over Miami's skyline. Wave to cruise ship passengers voyaging from the Port of Miami. Admire the Jet Skiers and boaters with Star Island in the background. And anticipate a thrilling event at either mile's end with the American Airlines Arena and downtown Miami on the west or slide over the bridge and fall into the excitement of beautiful South Beach on the east.
Best Local Landmark
The Atlantic Ocean
Okay, it's more of an "off landmark," but what other landmark in Miami can give you a cool breeze, a massage, and then feed you too? I love to be relaxing, swimming, and always finding it exciting to see what our local fishermen just yanked out of the Atlantic Ocean for the sushi bar.
Hopefully while I'm swimming, the fish never get their revenge on me. Once, an opossum-playing triggerfish bit my finger on Siam River's cutting board. But then I kindly returned the favor with a greatly inspired whole fish sashimi special.
Best Place to Savor the Flavor of Miami
Mango's
All of us in Miami are guilty of cruising down Ocean Drive and then stopping in front of Mango's. It's where the bartenders and servers spin the very best spicy salsa steps. If you're visiting and want a real taste of Miami, then it's a must to run into Mango's and savor the feeling of tapping your feet, gyrating your hips, and having sex-on-the-beach until 5:00 a.m.
Best Month
February
Miami's consistently gorgeous weather in February turns Valentine's Day into an entire month. Clear skies and cool breezes with slightly warming sunshine let everyone in Miami "live the life." Meanwhile snowbirds instinctively flock here for golfing, VolleyPalooza, sports fishing, sunbathing, the Miami International Boat Show ... and did I mention VolleyPalooza?
Best Reason to Live in Miami
Never need to leave home
Wherever you are in Miami, you cannot escape the feeling that something exciting may happen. Conveniently save your time traveling and your money on airplane tickets and car rentals for a romantic upgraded hometown vacation. Mix into the long warm beaches and relax at the Sheraton Bal Harbour or blend into the hot bar and pool scenes at the Delano or Shore Club. Stay in downtown Miami's city lights at the Mandarin Oriental with a wonderful dining experience at Azul. Or pamper yourself in Aventura at the Mediterranean-style Turnberry Isle Resort & Club.
Talk about running with scissors. Bratty Kevin Cory runs around with a knife -- sometimes more than one, and not of the butter variety. The chef at Siam River sushi bar, Cory puts his sharp tongue and sharp blade to use talking, dishing, and serving the most innovative, undoubtedly freshest sushi in town. Siam River also has an excellent selection of Thai food, for those who avoid uncooked finned things.
The mostly self-trained Cory haunts the docks and airport seeking only the freshest, never-frozen fish and crustaceans for Siam River's (literally) lively selection of menu items, which change daily according to what the nets bring in.
Cory will talk your ear off about snatching abalone from the Pacific or triggerfish from the surf, but that's okay -- when at Siam River, you'll be busy stuffing your face.
Best Mile in Miami
From I-395 to Fifth Street
Enjoy the commute during the rising or falling of the sun. See the setting of the moon over Miami's skyline. Wave to cruise ship passengers voyaging from the Port of Miami. Admire the Jet Skiers and boaters with Star Island in the background. And anticipate a thrilling event at either mile's end with the American Airlines Arena and downtown Miami on the west or slide over the bridge and fall into the excitement of beautiful South Beach on the east.
Best Local Landmark
The Atlantic Ocean
Okay, it's more of an "off landmark," but what other landmark in Miami can give you a cool breeze, a massage, and then feed you too? I love to be relaxing, swimming, and always finding it exciting to see what our local fishermen just yanked out of the Atlantic Ocean for the sushi bar.
Hopefully while I'm swimming, the fish never get their revenge on me. Once, an opossum-playing triggerfish bit my finger on Siam River's cutting board. But then I kindly returned the favor with a greatly inspired whole fish sashimi special.
Best Place to Savor the Flavor of Miami
Mango's
All of us in Miami are guilty of cruising down Ocean Drive and then stopping in front of Mango's. It's where the bartenders and servers spin the very best spicy salsa steps. If you're visiting and want a real taste of Miami, then it's a must to run into Mango's and savor the feeling of tapping your feet, gyrating your hips, and having sex-on-the-beach until 5:00 a.m.
Best Month
February
Miami's consistently gorgeous weather in February turns Valentine's Day into an entire month. Clear skies and cool breezes with slightly warming sunshine let everyone in Miami "live the life." Meanwhile snowbirds instinctively flock here for golfing, VolleyPalooza, sports fishing, sunbathing, the Miami International Boat Show ... and did I mention VolleyPalooza?
Best Reason to Live in Miami
Never need to leave home
Wherever you are in Miami, you cannot escape the feeling that something exciting may happen. Conveniently save your time traveling and your money on airplane tickets and car rentals for a romantic upgraded hometown vacation. Mix into the long warm beaches and relax at the Sheraton Bal Harbour or blend into the hot bar and pool scenes at the Delano or Shore Club. Stay in downtown Miami's city lights at the Mandarin Oriental with a wonderful dining experience at Azul. Or pamper yourself in Aventura at the Mediterranean-style Turnberry Isle Resort & Club.
Kids -- you can't live with 'em, you can't pawn 'em to finance a meal at Casa Tua. So take 'em to Aquatica. The Eden Roc's casual indoor-outdoor restaurant is open from 11:00 a.m. to 1:00 a.m., which gives you plenty of flexibility. After the little ones have had roughly three bites of Aquatica's heroic hamburger or kid-friendly Cuban sandwich (crustless, noncrumbly bread), both of which come with tasty shoestring fries, then they'll want to ignore their food and run around the restaurant. So let 'em. Aquatica's outdoor deck dining area is practically on the beach. That's all playground out there! So they can bury each other in sand while you eat your grown-up food -- maybe the South Beach fish stew or a rock-shrimp quesadilla, and definitely one or three of Aquatica's cocktails, like the not-too-sweet Floridian: Stoli, Cointreau, fresh lime, orange juice, and a splash of cranberry. You don't have to be staying at the Eden Roc to enjoy the place; there's plenty of parking in the public lot immediately north of the hotel. And the prices are among the Beach's best bargains.
Kids -- you can't live with 'em, you can't pawn 'em to finance a meal at Casa Tua. So take 'em to Aquatica. The Eden Roc's casual indoor-outdoor restaurant is open from 11:00 a.m. to 1:00 a.m., which gives you plenty of flexibility. After the little ones have had roughly three bites of Aquatica's heroic hamburger or kid-friendly Cuban sandwich (crustless, noncrumbly bread), both of which come with tasty shoestring fries, then they'll want to ignore their food and run around the restaurant. So let 'em. Aquatica's outdoor deck dining area is practically on the beach. That's all playground out there! So they can bury each other in sand while you eat your grown-up food -- maybe the South Beach fish stew or a rock-shrimp quesadilla, and definitely one or three of Aquatica's cocktails, like the not-too-sweet Floridian: Stoli, Cointreau, fresh lime, orange juice, and a splash of cranberry. You don't have to be staying at the Eden Roc to enjoy the place; there's plenty of parking in the public lot immediately north of the hotel. And the prices are among the Beach's best bargains.
The valets in front, not to mention the white-tented poolside dining cabanas out back, clearly convey the message that Pao is not the sort of Chinese joint where you run in for a couple of egg rolls on the way home from work. In fact, despite early publicity touting the cuisine as "vintage Chinese," there are no egg rolls on the menu, nor Chinese/American chow mein (or even Chinese chau mien). A fair number of the chef's creations are more classic Southeast Asian than classic Chinese. Prices are relatively high, too ($14 for mixed-ingredient fried rice, $19 for sweet and sour shrimp). It's designer Chinese fusion food. But it's very good food. Among the dishes worth every extra penny are spicy Chinese long bean (blessedly stringless beans seared with hot chilies, ginger, and garlic); salt-and-pepper shrimp authentically flash-fried with shells on and showered with irresistibly salty chili slivers; Manila clams subtly sauced with garlic and ginger; and hot-and-sour snapper, lightly battered fillets with a complex tangy sauce featuring citrus, tomato, and hot peppers.
The valets in front, not to mention the white-tented poolside dining cabanas out back, clearly convey the message that Pao is not the sort of Chinese joint where you run in for a couple of egg rolls on the way home from work. In fact, despite early publicity touting the cuisine as "vintage Chinese," there are no egg rolls on the menu, nor Chinese/American chow mein (or even Chinese chau mien). A fair number of the chef's creations are more classic Southeast Asian than classic Chinese. Prices are relatively high, too ($14 for mixed-ingredient fried rice, $19 for sweet and sour shrimp). It's designer Chinese fusion food. But it's very good food. Among the dishes worth every extra penny are spicy Chinese long bean (blessedly stringless beans seared with hot chilies, ginger, and garlic); salt-and-pepper shrimp authentically flash-fried with shells on and showered with irresistibly salty chili slivers; Manila clams subtly sauced with garlic and ginger; and hot-and-sour snapper, lightly battered fillets with a complex tangy sauce featuring citrus, tomato, and hot peppers.
What would you rather have in your face: the bellies of other drunken diners as they circle your table clumsily attempting Grecian folk dances, or a mouthful of taramasalata so silky smooth you'll think you're in heaven rather than just North Beach? If you prefer the latter, Ouzo's is the place for you. The cozily exotic restaurant has enough taverna décor and Zorba-esque music to seem suitably festive, but it also has a bargain-priced plate of stuffed grape leaves, Kalamata olives, and cheeses, plus authentic Greek dips (tarama, creamy tzatziki, hummus, and garlicky puréed eggplant melitzanosalata) that put packaged gourmet-shop stuff to shame. Other appetizers, such as a refreshingly citrus-spritzed melted cheese saganaki and great charcoal-grilled octopus, are equally impressive, as are entrées like tender souvlaki skewers and a fresh whole snapper. The corner location was known as a jinxed spot (previous Latin, Hungarian, and Mediterranean-fusion restaurants all rapidly folded), but for two years Ouzo's has been a solidly packed winner.
What would you rather have in your face: the bellies of other drunken diners as they circle your table clumsily attempting Grecian folk dances, or a mouthful of taramasalata so silky smooth you'll think you're in heaven rather than just North Beach? If you prefer the latter, Ouzo's is the place for you. The cozily exotic restaurant has enough taverna décor and Zorba-esque music to seem suitably festive, but it also has a bargain-priced plate of stuffed grape leaves, Kalamata olives, and cheeses, plus authentic Greek dips (tarama, creamy tzatziki, hummus, and garlicky puréed eggplant melitzanosalata) that put packaged gourmet-shop stuff to shame. Other appetizers, such as a refreshingly citrus-spritzed melted cheese saganaki and great charcoal-grilled octopus, are equally impressive, as are entrées like tender souvlaki skewers and a fresh whole snapper. The corner location was known as a jinxed spot (previous Latin, Hungarian, and Mediterranean-fusion restaurants all rapidly folded), but for two years Ouzo's has been a solidly packed winner.
For more than a decade, Norman's in Coral Gables was the only venue where diners could sample master chef Norman Van Aken's creations prepared under his immediate supervision. (There are now namesake Norman's in Orlando and Los Angeles.)
When a second local Van Aken outlet, Mundo, was unveiled in late January 2004, this was big and good news for Miami's notoriously fussy food clerisy, as well as those who just love a good Cuban sandwich sassed up with Gouda and key lime mustard.
Van Aken has said that flavors don't need passports, and his successful experiments -- new wave sushis, French bistro fare, and Spanish tapas -- prove that with flourish.
Van Aken shares his good taste with the community in other meaningful ways, including sponsoring an annual benefit dinner for charitable and philanthropic causes.
Best Local Landmark
The Freedom Tower
Best Sanctuary From the Fast Track
Fairchild Tropical Garden/the Kampong
Best Month
January
Best Not-So-Cheap Thrill
32 ounces of beef short ribs and an Argentinean Malbec at Graziano's
Best Cheap Thrill
Conch fritters at Alabama Jack's
Best Reason to Live in Miami
The chance to cook the way we love to cook
For more than a decade, Norman's in Coral Gables was the only venue where diners could sample master chef Norman Van Aken's creations prepared under his immediate supervision. (There are now namesake Norman's in Orlando and Los Angeles.)
When a second local Van Aken outlet, Mundo, was unveiled in late January 2004, this was big and good news for Miami's notoriously fussy food clerisy, as well as those who just love a good Cuban sandwich sassed up with Gouda and key lime mustard.
Van Aken has said that flavors don't need passports, and his successful experiments -- new wave sushis, French bistro fare, and Spanish tapas -- prove that with flourish.
Van Aken shares his good taste with the community in other meaningful ways, including sponsoring an annual benefit dinner for charitable and philanthropic causes.
Best Local Landmark
The Freedom Tower
Best Sanctuary From the Fast Track
Fairchild Tropical Garden/the Kampong
Best Month
January
Best Not-So-Cheap Thrill
32 ounces of beef short ribs and an Argentinean Malbec at Graziano's
Best Cheap Thrill
Conch fritters at Alabama Jack's
Best Reason to Live in Miami
The chance to cook the way we love to cook
Use of this website constitutes acceptance of our
terms of use,
our cookies policy, and our
privacy policy.
View our accessibility policy and AI policy.
The Miami New Times may earn a portion of sales from products & services purchased through links on our site from our
affiliate partners.
©2025
Miami New Times, LLC. All rights reserved.
Do Not Sell or Share My Information
Do Not Sell or Share My Information
