Best Cake Artist 2000 | Sweet Art by Lucila | Best Restaurants, Bars, Clubs, Music and Stores in Miami | Miami New Times
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Lucila Jimenez has turned her family tradition of baking festive and inventive cakes into a thriving business. Her two Sweet Art bakeries, with their 50 employees, seem to be able to coax batter and icing into almost any shape, for any event. Mountains, hearts, toys, the island of Cuba -- nearly anything is possible. Her signature "jewelry box" cakes are a true marvel: They look for all the world like oversize Limoges porcelain boxes, complete with gold fittings, and yet, amazingly, they are not only edible, but delicious. Try one of Lucila's cakes for a special occasion, and her tradition will quickly become yours as well.
What sets this Jewish diner apart is the bread, made fresh every day in the adjacent bakery. Three plates of goodies are served with every meal. Besides your traditional soft and chewy rolls, they toss in white toast swirled throughout with sweet cinnamon. Also offered are chunks of raisin bread dotted with the gooey black stuff and covered with a thin coat of sugar. Real butter and cream cheese are served on the side to spread across the delicacies. For diners who can't finish the bread, servers offer a doggy bag to enjoy it at home or the office. Don't feel like waiting for the sometimes slow service or interminable lines? Then walk straight into the bakery, where the selection grows to include buttered toast, pumpernickel, and sticky honeybuns. And don't fret when you get a craving -- they're open 24 hours.

Best Restaurant When Someone Else Is Paying

Petrossian

Can you say beluga, sevruga, osetra? Petrossian can: It's the largest importer of Russian caviar in the world. Can you say foie gras? Petrossian can: The company's farms in France produce plump, silken specimens. Can you say expensive? Petrossian can, because it ain't cheap to get all that good stuff over here. Indeed you can ply your senses with twenty grams of sevruga for $23, or beluga for $47. But you should be aware that while for drug addicts, twenty grams is a feast, for caviar aficionados it's barely a snort. And if you're planning on accompanying those sturgeon eggs with champagne, be prepared for some bottles to run over the $400 mark. Needless to say the best time to dine at Petrossian is when you have grateful guests in the house. Allow them to think of the dinner check as room and board, and in the end, everyone -- especially your waiter (what's fifteen percent of $400?) -- is more than sensually sated.

Best Restaurant To Reinvent Itself Again

Big Fish

This restaurant has had more lives than Shirley MacLaine. And part of the eatery's perseverance has to do with its location. As one of the only, and certainly just about the oldest, riverfront restaurants in Miami, we almost owe it our patronage. In fact we've seen this place through good times and bad, through Twenties' gas stations and fish sandwiches (courtesy of its first owner), through gondolas and gigantic sculptures of animals standing on each other's backs (courtesy of the previous owner). It's almost like a marriage that way -- love it or leave it. And we love it. We can't help ourselves. Some glitches will always affect this restaurant: It's hard to find; the neighborhood could be better; the river traffic could be less noisy. But as far as landmark bars built around banyan trees go, we'll take this one. And we'll drink martinis here and eat fish sandwiches (okay, maybe just one, since they're currently so big) no matter who owns it, or cleans it up, or installs weird artwork, or dirties it again. That's a promise.
It's tough to impress the dates these days but you can do it. You score a reservation at Norman's, pick said date up in your new Lexus SUV, and then nonchalantly toss the keys to the valet when you get there. So far, so good. Once inside you relax with a Cosmopolitan at the bar, and voilà! -- the table is ready. You seat your date, then yourself. You open the menus and begin to discuss the food. Here's your chance, you think. You explain some of the more outlandish dishes, then look around for the waitress. Spotting a female striding around the floor, you beckon to her. When she reaches your table, you begin to order: "My date will have the seared ..." "I'm sorry," said female interrupts smoothly. "I'm not your server. I'm the sommelier. Would you care for a suggestion on a bottle of wine?" Congratulations, you've just insulted Laura DePasquale, one of the only licensed female sommeliers in the State of Florida. Don't feel too bad. Even in Miami, when you can't always tell who's female and who's male, gender barriers are still in place. But not for long, thanks to DePasquale and her like. Go, femme!
Nothing about Kon Chau's appearance screams "good eating." With its generic décor, harsh fluorescent lighting, and obligatory incense-bristling shrine to General Kwan, this could be almost any strip-mall chow-meinstream Chinese joint. But it ain't, and it's the delectable dim sum that puts Kon Chau over the top. You just plain can't go wrong; place the photocopied dim sum menu in front of you, close your eyes, point to something, and prepare yourself for bite-size bliss. From the turnip cake, to the pork buns, to the sticky rice in lotus leaf, to the steamed shrimp dumplings, to the world's most delectable spring rolls, every cooked-to-order item on the list is a hit. All served at reasonable prices, without a whit of hoity, and even less toity.
Got a hankering for a half-sour? A craving for sauerkraut? The palate for a pickled green tomato? Relax, you're covered. The only pickle stand in Miami that's called a kiosk, Picklelicious imports its barrels of pickles, about ten varieties, directly from the Lower East Side in New York. And don't worry if you don't feel like purchasing a pint or a quart of the briny goodies. Picklelicious also sells the ever-popular pickle-on-a-stick, which leaves you one hand free for flipping through the clothes at Macy's. Just be careful not to get yourself in a pickle, and have the courtesy to buy whatever you manage to squirt with garlicky juice.
And the best part of all, there is always plenty of stuff around to read.
Chef Pepin -- no, not the famous one, just a hardworking Cuban cook named Pepin -- has been a fixture at Little Farm Store's diner for the past twenty years. More than a fixture; Little Farm Store cognoscenti prize Pepin's homestyle Cuban dishes. But especially his medianoche. Now what is it that makes Pepin's sandwich a cut above? How would he know? Does an artist know what drives him to the canvas? Pepin throws generous portions of pork, ham, Swiss cheese, mayo, and pickles (amount will vary at your order) on some of that soft egg bread, grills it just right, and there it is. Another masterpiece to go. Invest now while you can get one for $2.50.
When it comes to luncheonettes, nobody pays much attention, and that's a darn shame. Some of the best lunch restaurants are downtown and in the Design District, and unless you happen to work nearby, you usually don't hear about them. Such is the case with the Charcuterie, the longest-running restaurant in the Design District. Today the decades-old eatery presents a limited menu with French-influenced deli entrées, such as the salmon mousse and vegetable terrine plate, or the Brie and tomato sandwich. But the real reason it wins kudos is for its hot lunches, posted daily on a blackboard. You just might find grilled salmon with shallot and vermouth sauce, or blackened snapper Louisiana style, or rainbow trout almondine. You get the point: The focus is on fish. Wash it all down with a glass of house white, or an O'Doul's if you're headed back to work. Of course you have to take your chances on the blackboard specials, because what's served depends on what's been caught fresh that morning. But you can bet on the Charcuterie as a hale and hearty standard of the Design District since the days before the renaissance, when the only things caught fresh in the morning were the working girls on their way home.

Best Of Miami®

Best Of Miami®