If Dr. Victor Frankenstein had been born an unnaturally hungry Uruguayan food fanatic and not an Austrian alchemist hell-bent on cobbling together a humanoid creep show from dead body parts, he might have invented El Rey del Chivito's trademark creation, the Chivito Rey Emperador. Basically a monstrous mountain of random foodstuffs, the Rey looks like it was dredged from the kitchen's scrap bin: creamy potato and peas, garden salad, shoestring French fries, blobs of mozzarella cheese, 16 ounces of churrasco beef, bacon strips, ham chunks, and a pair of sunny-side up eggs. To a certain extent, this peculiar platter is a dementedly deconstructed version of the OG chivito steak sandwich minus the soft roll. In another way, however, it's the wildly outsize offspring of a crazy culinary mind, namely resident Doc Frankenstein and owner Aron Wolfson. Submit to this strangely delicious $18.90 family-style serving. The Rey will feed your entire brood — mom, dad, kiddies, grandma, and nanny, plus dog. But be careful or it just might come alive and consume you.

To think that one year ago, this area had only Subway, Lime Mexican Grill, Five Guys Burgers and Fries, and a Starbucks counter inside a Target. Not only has the number of dining venues more than tripled since then, but also the quality of entries has been impressive. Sakaya Kitchen, Mercadito Mexican, and Sugarcane Raw Bar Grill are three of the most exciting joints to jump onto our scene in some time. Primo Pizza serves fantastic pies, Sweet Times Café is a little gem, and the Cheese Course already boasts the city's largest selection of curds and whey. With so many condo units in the neighborhood finally filling up, you can bet there'll be plenty more dining options to come. Plus maybe even a standalone Starbucks.

The arrival of gourmet food trucks to Miami made hungry stalkers out of even brown-baggers. Some of them sit by their computers, refreshing Twitter feeds and Facebook pages, waiting for the message that tells them where the truck will pop up. An internal debate follows: Should I go? Do I have time to go there and get back to work? Admit it. You've done it. Food on wheels isn't new, but these trucks sell food such as pork belly burgers and make finding their location part of the dining experience. It all began last December when chef Jeremiah Bullfrog's GastroPod Miami, Ingrid Hoffman's Latin Burger & Taco, and Flavio Alarcon's Yellow Submarine appeared in our dining consciousness. The trucks quickly gained followers and fans. Famous chefs such as Michael Schwartz and later Jonathan Eismann then followed with vending carts. They appeared at the art walk in the Design District. A Miami street food fest is said to be in the works. So what's next? A truffle truck? A foie gras cart? Who knows? But these mobile eats are likely to be around for some time.

Jeremiah Bullfrog ain't no Mister Softee. He ain't no Dairy Queen either. Yet his GastroPod foodmobile, a shiny silver converted '62 Airstream trailer, attracts streams of enthusiastic followers wherever it goes — as if he's the Pied Piper of foodies or something. He ain't that either, but the Miami native is a damn seriously talented chef; locals still talk about his celebrated Bullfrog Eatz in Wynwood. But now you can relish his outrageously tasty fare at single-digit prices. To wit: The "old dirty dog" — a smoked short-rib hot dog plunked into a potato bun and topped with sweet/spicy slaw — costs five bucks. The bánh mì taco — with oxtail, trotters, country pâté, and pickled radishes — is $3. A sloppy José with brisket and "curry in a hurry" (vegan curry with rice) are the high-end items at $7 and $8 apiece. Heck, the GastroPod even has an immersion circulator for sous vide cooking. The silver bullet has been known to park around Biscayne Boulevard and 18th Street, but your best bet is to tune in to Twitter to find out where this roving gourmet kitchen will strike next.

In every Spanish restaurant, there's one sound that triggers Pavlovian slobbering. It begins faintly, like the flutter of several Spanish fans. Then it ramps up, like castanets. It's a rapid-fire sizzling: the sound of a hot chorizo. At El Rincón Asturiano, 12 meaty chunks ($6) come in an oil bath that's still bubbling when served. Some people say chorizo is unhealthy, greasy, artery-clogging. Those people are fools. That small clay bowl is an invitation to pig out. So is the $10 cheese platter (which includes bluish cabrales, buttery Manchego, and Minorcan mahon) or the $30 Iberian ham and sausage tablet. But El Rincón, a comfy jewel box of a restaurant that's been in Little Havana for two years, is at its most finger-licking when it does traditional plates such as the squid black rice ($16) or the fabada ($14 for the Wednesday-night special). Remember when Hannibal Lecter spoke of ingesting fava beans and a nice chianti? A fabada is made with similarly hearty beans, a shoulder of pork, Spanish bacon (tocino), and chorizo. Have it at lunchtime or at the end of the night: It's a heavy stew that will slow down even some of the old men at the next table arguing about soccer.

Excuse our stating the obvious, but it's true: Brazil is hot. The home of caipirinhas will host the World Cup in 2014 and just won rights to the Summer Olympics two years later. It seems everyone wants to be in Rio. But if you're stuck in humble Miami-Dade, don't fret: Botequim Carioca exists to satisfy your every Brazilian need. Tucked behind floor-to-ceiling glass windows beneath one of the behemoth condo towers across Biscayne Boulevard from the American Airlines Arena, Botequim Carioca is Miami's most comfortable joint to nosh on caldinho de feijão, traditional black bean soup with pork ribs; bolinhos de bacalhou, dumplings with cod; or a massive, two-person cozido à portuguesa, a Brazilian boil of pork, steak, vegetables, and pirão, a fish gravy. And those caipirinhas? Nothing is better on a hot day next to Biscayne Bay.

As soon as you hop out of your car in the parking lot next to Las Vacas Gordas (translation: the fat cows), you'll smell the hot grill. For avid carnivores, the Normandy Isle Argentine parrilla offers one-pound servings of red meat along with chitlins, blood sausage, chorizo, and vegetables cooked on the grill. A huge bowl of spicy chimichurri awaits you at the table. Go on — dip your bread in there; you'll be a happy fat cow by the time you leave. La enrollada, a one-pound serving of meat served rolled up on a plate, is quite popular, but try the vacio ($22.99 per pound) or bife de chorizo with a glass of Las Vacas Gordas Malbec, the house wine. And to cut through all of that meaty juice, try a flambéed dulce de leche crêpe.

Everyone knows God took a rib from Adam to create Eve. But he must've snatched a second one and given it to Mark A. Gibson, a former minister who's now grillmaster and owner of mobile barbecue business Ribs-2-Go. There's just no other way to explain his homemade slabs of pure deliciousness. If you frequent midtown or the Design District, chances are you've seen Gibson on his turf Tuesdays through Saturdays (he takes off Sundays to give props to Jesus) from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. on a sandy stretch of Second Avenue south of NE 36th Street, grilling away in a cloud of dark smoke. The menu is limited but pumped full of soul. "I love making good food, and the folks around here really seem to appreciate quality," Gibson says. Available are two chicken leg quarters for $7 and succulent, smoky, fall-off-the-bone tender pork brisket and St. Louis baby-back ribs (a full rack is $20, half rack is $15, and a quarter is $10). Try the tangy honey mustard dubbed "golden sauce." After one bite, you'll find yourself hollering, "Hallelujah!"

At celeb chef Howie "Bulldog" Kleinberg's North Miami barbecue joint, the smokehouse wings are so big they look as though they were ripped from the body of a superchicken bred in a black-market agrarian chem lab. But don't worry — these wings aren't the product of bio-engineering, synthetic hormones, or any other brand of black magic. Only the hand of God and the tongs of Mr. Bulldog have touched these deliciously huge bird parts. As for the actual cooking, these all-natural monster wings are given the culinary equivalent of a four-star spa treatment. They're deep-rubbed with Bulldog's secret house spice mix, slowly smoked for an hour and 15 minutes until fully cooked, cooled, deep-fried, and bathed in a luxuriously piquant beurre blanc sauce. This simple yet complex ritual yields a wing that's extra-crispy on the outside, hot and juicy on the inside, and overall spicy, sweet, and creamy. Now, get a $10 plate, grab a fistful, and wonder whether billion-dollar scientists and their microwave beams could do better than God and Mr. Bulldog. Definitely not.

Talavera is newer, prettier, and more refined than the sort of Mexican dives we like to think of as authentic. But partners Eduardo "Lalo" Durazo, Martin Moreno, and chef Oscar Del Rivero (the Jaguar Ceviche Spoon Bar & Latam Grill team) come from Mexico City, and many of the recipes used here derive directly from family and country — though they are a bit more polished in presentation. Like the guacamole: a mash of ripe avocados with cilantro, lime juice, and Serrano chilies, topped with queso fresco crumbles and fried pork rinds (and served with homemade flour tortillas). As we say, a little gussied up, but good. So is the signature huarache grill: sandal-shaped corn masa cakes capped with black beans, goat cheese, salsa verde, and choice of grilled steak, chicken, or fish marinated with guajillo chili rub. There are enchiladas, chiles rellenos, tacos, tortas, ceviches, moles, and more, all defined by fresh, bright flavors; just about everything is under $20. Weekday lunch specials bring a choice of more than a dozen selections for $12. Margaritas are an affordable $8. Other beverages to consider are Mexican beers, lime-spruced michaladas, eclectic wines (most bottles $18 to $34), and a scintillating lemonade sparkling with cilantro. Service sparkles as well. Talavera is an authentically wonderful Mexican restaurant from head to huarache.