Best Of :: Food & Drink
During the Roaring Twenties in Venice, Italy, a bartender named Giuseppe Cipriani loaned a customer 10,000 lire (about $5,000) after hearing that the man, a wealthy Bostonian named Harry Pickering, was cut off from his fortune after his family found out he was drinking much of his money away. Sure, that was generous for a bartender, but the gesture was well rewarded. Two years later, a flush Pickering returned the money with interest, giving the stunned Cipriani 90,000 lire — enough to open a bar of his own. Harry's Bar quickly became the haunt of authors and celebrities. Orson Welles, Truman Capote, Noel Coward, Janet Leigh, and Ernest Hemingway would come for Cipriani's signature dry martini, served in a stemless glass, and stay for the night. The bar was declared a landmark in 2001 and is a major "to do" for visitors, along with riding in a gondola. The Cipriani name still embodies elegance, and the brand has expanded with bars and restaurants in New York, Hong Kong, Los Angeles, Monte Carlo, Ibiza, Moscow, and Abu Dhabi. The rich, famous, and beautiful still frequent Cipriani restaurants for beautiful cocktails and an evening of romance and glamour. In the past, Cipriani has alluded to opening in Miami, even planning a resort hotel in Miami Beach. But, sadly, nothing came to fruition — until now. Cipriani recently opened a location at Icon Tower in Brickell. Although Hemingway or Capote or even Giuseppe Cipriani have never set foot in this new location, we'll still raise a dry martini to the friendly ghosts of Ciprianis past and to the promise of a new crop of beautiful and intelligent people to come.
Step away from the whole roast pork! Sure, it's 7 a.m., you're at El Palacio de los Jugos, and, as usual, you crave some swine. But lechón asado is no respectable breakfast. So walk past the West Flagler Street cafeteria's hot food wells — those steel tubs loaded with braised beef, boiled yuca, arroz con gris, and fried grouper. Head to the inner market, a crowded nook where salted cod and ripe avocados are peddled alongside corn pudding and nut butters. There, and only there, can you decently succumb to your morning craving of pig. Order the porker's finest part: the chicharrón ($9.99 a pound), deep-fried rind served in brown paper bags smeared with fat. Then choose from a selection of fresh juices: guava, mango, pineapple, orange, sapodilla, tamarind, and mora ($2). And there's also guarapo, a sugarcane variety. Open your pouch of chicharrón. Take a bite. Sip your juice. Wipe your greasy fingers on your jeans. Repeat. Extra breakfast points if you also order a colada to go.
An assortment of cream cheese and smoothie samples sits in front of the cash register by the entrance to New York Bagel Deli. The bagel selection covers all the basics — plain, poppy seed, sesame, onion, cinnamon raisin, and everything — with additional wheat and cheese varieties. But the unique option is the power bagel. It's a dark wheat thing topped with pumpkin seeds, flaxseeds, and other grains that provides a great blend of fluff and crunch. There are even filled bagels that come with a hearty hunk of Asiago cheese melted right into the center hole. Only a few types of bagels are available at a time, and they range from broccoli and Asiago to bacon and potato. Creative cream cheese flavors might also surprise you. There's guava, Bombay curry, and pesto. If your favorite isn't in stock, you can ask for a serving of the spread to be whipped up in a blender right on the spot. Don't be alarmed if the small place is full of rowers — it has become a post-practice hangout for the young athletes from the nearby Shane Rowing Center. And for mornings when you want bagels in bed to avoid the bustling weekend crowd, New York Bagel Deli delivers. Bagels are generally $1.25 each or $11.99 for a baker's dozen.
Bunnie Cakes is full of hearts. Some are pink paper cutouts plastered in patterns across the walls. Others are candy — scarlet sugar shapes that dot the bakery's cute sweets such as the six-inch, double-layered guava cakes with cream cheese frosting ($32) and banana-chocolate chip cupcakes ($3). But at this Wynwood shop, there are no eggs. There isn't any butter or milk, either. Bunnie Cakes is a vegan bakery. Mariana Cortez, a self-taught baker who delved into dairy- and egg-free sweets to provide more healthful, organic treats for her children, owns the shop. She founded Bunnie Cakes in 2009 and opened her first storefront in February 2013. Her heart-topped desserts are delicious. They are sweetened with agave nectar or evaporated cane sugar. Many of them eschew soy, gluten, and nuts. Most are allergy-free. A bakery that caters to folks with food sensitivities and a sweet tooth? Now that's something to love.
Just a few steps from the sands of South Pointe is a quaint, charming bakery named Lee & Marie's Cakery. The café sells fresh almond croissants ($3.75), red velvet cake by the slice ($6), and pecan-caramel sticky buns ($3.95). There are sandwiches, desserts, and salads — all designed by award-winning pastry chef Yannis Janssens. But what sets this cakery apart is its humanitarian ethos. Owned by Andy Travaglia, it supports and employs adults with autism spectrum disorders. Since its debut in 2012, Lee & Marie's has expanded with an additional location in New York City. It also has a production facility in Wynwood. Not only is this South Beach bakery churning out delectable baked goods across Miami and beyond, it's also succeeding in a higher cause. Now that's sweet.
Zak Stern raises Alpine goats in Little Haiti. He wears suspenders, is fond of tweed trousers, and enjoys listening to Taylor Swift. He once apprenticed for five years under bread- and cheese-makers across Europe. Now he runs a closed-door operation that supplies organic sourdoughs to some of the city's top restaurants, including Michy's and Oak Tavern. The loaves ($6), offered in varieties such as olive and za'atar or plum, fennel, and rye, have thick, chewy crusts and complex, slightly bitter interiors. So when Zak shows up at a farmers' market to sell his bread, lines form immediately. Loaves sell out within minutes. Maybe it's the goat's milk. Or perhaps it's all the T-Swift. Whatever the reason, Zak Stern is the best — and perhaps most interesting — baker in town.