Best Of :: Food & Drink
There is more to MiMi's than just ravioli. Pyramids of imported Italian canned tomatoes stand sentry in the large front window. Along one wall shelves overflow with olive oils, vinegars, artichoke and palm hearts, olives, sauces, plus myriad goodies. In the center of the store sit nuts and salty snacks, sweets such as marzipan and imported chocolates, cookies, and candies. Along the other wall are a freezer and refrigerated cases loaded with gnocchi, tortellini, ravioli, an array of sauces, and prepared specialties like eggplant rollatini. Further down in the fridge are prosciutto, soppresatta (mild and hot), hard salami, and more, plus wondrous fresh pasta (plain and spinach) in every shape: tubes, strands, curls. At the very end lies a selection of healthy frozen pasta dishes and, of course, the succulent ravioli. Medium- and jumbo-size, stuffed with seafood, pumpkin, goat cheese, porcini mushrooms, broccoli and cheese, chicken, even a skim-milk version for dieters. A variety of Italian cookies and fresh mozzarella, plain or smoked, still beckon. The small, densely packed market, in place for ten years at its current location, resided just down the street for seven years before. A sister emporium on Hollywood's Johnson Street has been around for 30 years. Fill up on the goods from 9:00 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Monday through Saturday.
Oh, we know the myth. The best hamburgers are made from ground chuck, because the meat has more fat in it. The fat then prevents the burger from shrinking into a McDonald's-esque disk while cooking. Well, baloney. At the downtown location of Morton's, the hamburger is a full eight ounces of lean ground sirloin. Hard to feel guilty eating that. And it's just about the juiciest thing we've encountered outside the Chris Paciello story. The single drawback? The burger is served only during the noontime meal. Still, order with a side of lyonnaise taters, and that's what we call a power lunch.
This converted no-tell motel on South Dixie is painted a really disgusting shade of green; a more reliable harbinger of the food within can be seen in the clusters of patrons on the benches outside the front door, eagerly awaiting their tables. Inside it's long and narrow, with a boxcarlike feel, but the friendly service and the pungent scent of Thai basil, fish sauce, and chili paste more than compensate for the cramped quarters. A Thai restaurant is only as good as its pad thai, and this one kills: a light hand with the ground pork, and it actually has plenty of shrimp! The rich curries are excellent, as are appetizers like tiger tear and nam sod. The chefs also show a deft touch with seafood; if you find a restaurant of any ethnic description that can cook up a tastier whole snapper, let us know. And if you like your Thai food with plenty of fire, you'll be pleased to know Siam Lotus Room actually takes you at your word when you ask for "four stars" of spiciness. Ouch! Hurts so good.
You just made it. Booth okay? Care for a beverage? Will that be the pasta fagioli or the garden salad? And your rolls: plain or dripping with garlic? For dinner there's lasagna, stuffed shells, eggplant rollatini, chicken parmigiana, veal cacciatore, linguine in clam sauce, ziti with sausage, or something else ... I forgot; I'll be right back. What do you mean you're full? No dessert? Either way it's $7.95. Come on, take the cannoli! (Oh well, just come back: The early bird special is offered seven days a week, 4:00 to 7:00 p.m.)
Tart enough. Sweet enough. Mellow yellow filling, almost ecru. Velvety texture. Moist, crumbly graham cracker crust. Outside edge daintily adorned with a ring of whipped cream. Center garnished with more cream and a twisted lime slice. Ideal to serve to your friends, but at close to ten bucks, certainly not meant to throw at your enemies.
Some folks visit this corner storefront eatery for its baked pastas. Other patrons go for its wonderfully prepared veal scaloppine dishes and fillets of fish sprinkled with capers. And most appreciate the lengths the staff goes to ensure that even those waiting for a table outside have a glass of refreshment. We, however, frequent the cafe for its absolutely fresh caesar salad, which is redolent with garlic, Parmesan, and the all-important anchovies. Oh, we know picky diners don't like to look an anchovy fillet in the eye, so to speak. But you don't have to. The dressing here incorporates chopped anchovies, not whole ones, so you get the proper flavor without being, well, grossed out. Best of all, the kitchen will split an order for you, and the results usually are two huge salads for the price of one.