Best Of Miami® 2003 Winners
Eat & Drink
David Tunnell, who used to be management at MTV's Latin American operation, decided to leave corporate life in the early fall of 2002. By Thanksgiving he'd opened Dogma (the name inspiration came from pal Carlos Carreño), and by Christmas the outdoor shop was packed. Instant Biscayne hipster hangout. That's because Tunnell, who's from Los Angeles, went to some trouble to use only the best ingredients -- Vienna rolls, Hebrew National dogs, and real L.A. chili (which costs twice as much to fly in) -- for the defining Dogma experience: the chili dog. Three hundred of these will go on a slammin' lunch day, most to those kinds of fans you see in the Design District or at the more upscale boho clubs. Designer chairs, retro-contemporary décor, windows everywhere so the kitchen crew can converse with the customers in total equality. Prices: $2.45 to $4.50 (the latter gets you the burrito chili package, which actually has two dogs). Seven days from 11:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m.
Restaurants rarely make their own bread (so much easier to source it from a good bakery), and those that do frequently limit their production to one or two specialties. Not so Bizcaya Grill. Maybe it's because, given its location in the Ritz-Carlton Coconut Grove, it has the space and resources to do it. No doubt having an overnight baker helps as well. But whatever the reason, the results are what you can count on, or depending on your mood, count calories on: fresh-baked Danish pastries and muffins for breakfast. Pain du chocolate and croissants at Sunday brunch. Parmesan buns and lemon brioche to partner burgers and fish sandwiches, respectively, for the midday meal. And at dinner the piéce de resistance -- pretzel bread dotted with coarse salt or pumpkin seeds. The object, of course, is not to eat so much of the bread that you have no appetite for the foie gras served with a shot of vinegar or the black-and-white rabbit cannelloni. But then, we were never ones to shy away from a challenge.
Readers Choice: Don Pan
Sit in a booth, or sidle up to the counter and enjoy a massive repast with any and all combinations of the breakfast staples that make you want to go right back to bed: ham, bacon, sausage, waffles, pancakes, eggs, biscuits, gravy, grits. Chuck Wagon breakfasts provide the caloric intake you would need for ploughing your fields or rounding up cattle (rather than sitting at your terminal, wondering if co-workers can hear your stomach gurgle through the cubicle walls). Breakfast is available all day, and specials last from 6:00 to 10:00 a.m. Daily specials include a two eggs, grits, and bacon breakfast for $2, and omelet and breakfast combos that change every day, but hover around the $4-$5 price range.
A perennial favorite in the dim sum category, Tropical -- surprise -- also serves a great din-din. Traditional dishes include Hong Kong-style roast pork flavored with five-spice and then roasted; seafood-spinach soup; and always crisp, always succulent Peking duck. But innovative items are equally reliable, if unusual -- flounder pan-fried with peppercorns and jalapeños and served with bananas marinated in rice wine, for example, offers interesting counterpoints of textures, as does cherry-plum chicken wrapped with diced water chestnuts and fresh bamboo in egg-white crêpes. A healthy wine list replete with floral Rieslings adds to the fine-dining effect, giving aficionados of all kinds reason to make Tropical an evening as well as morning destination.
To borrow a line from the old ad campaign for Arnold's rye bread, you don't have to be Jewish to eat kosher chocolate. Indeed whether you follow those dietary rules or not, the ultimate issue is taste, for which Krön is an ecumenical experience of the heavenly culinary variety. Its tantalizing array of candies, truffles, and dipped fruits are all made by hand with top-notch ingredients (and prices to match). Coffee and baked goods like brownies and cookies are also for sale, though the tables set out in the middle of the mall are decidedly unatmospheric. Recent ink on the store has hinted at expansion plans. Let's hope any new outlets include a proper café.
This charming crêperie replicates the design of a classic French café: the tile floors, the long wooden benches along the walls, lots of reading material lying about, and good, strong java. If the weather were cooler, one could easily picture a professorial type in corduroys perusing Le Monde over his afternoon espresso. Locals and tourists alike flock for the delicious savory and sweet crêpes, along with other simple fare like croque monsieur (the Gallic version of grilled cheese with ham), at prices that will make you wonder whether you are really still in South Beach. To avoid a wait, come earlyish on a weekend morning with a newspaper or a book, and ease into the day over a steaming bowl of café au lait.
Readers Choice: Starbucks
We'll put it in the simplest terms: If one wants ingredients such as black truffles, white asparagus, cipollini onions, heirloom tomatoes, artisanal cheeses, Dover sole, and boneless quail, one must dig deep into the pockets. If one desires these comestibles to be prepared in the New World by chefs who have been trained in the Old World, one must cough up the cash. If one wants to sample these dishes in a hidden-gem, secret-garden atmosphere that has as much homestyle charm as Versace's erstwhile mansion, one must forfeit the bucks. But for those who can't wash dishes in case of emergency, don't worry -- there's a Citibank ATM right across the street.
Readers Choice: Café Abbracci
Maybe it's because in this neck of the woods (one block outside Miami Shores) you used to get mighty thirsty until this restaurant picked up a liquor license over the summer. Maybe it's because the bartender and the owner and the waiter all greet you as you arrive. Maybe it's because they hold live music nights. Maybe it's because the mixture of seafood and pasta is so tasty. Maybe it's because, if you visit a few times, you're sure to know someone at a table or the bar. Maybe it's because the fish-net nautical theme can't be beat. Most likely it's a combination of all of the above. Most likely you're going to be glad everyone knows your name as you fork up those mussels and sip your martini. (On Wednesdays, ladies, your first one is free!)
Step inside the Bird Road location and you'll find yourself in the re-created courtyard of a Nicaraguan hacienda, complete with burbling fountain and guitar music. That's the idea, at least, and if you don't find it convincing, let the excellent food and extremely attentive service at El Novillo ease your nerves until Bird Road's infuriating traffic seems far far away. If that doesn't work, eat a sixteen-ounce "Big Daddy" churrasco -- after that, you won't care where you are. Perfectly cooked churrasco -- seared outside, melting inside -- is the signature at El Novillo, but just about all the food stands out. The "nica-tizers" (all less than four dollars except sampler platters) are a good start for the uninitiated, particularly the vigoron (pork cracklings with yuca) or the fried cheese with slaw and corn tortillas. The prices are quite reasonable (from $12 to $25 for most entrées) but the white tablecloths and courteous waitstaff give El Novillo the air of a four-star restaurant -- or hacienda.
Dining alone is both an art and a science. Therefore the solo diner obviously has a dual appreciation for both the imagination and the intellect. Where else to find the creativity as well as the observational opportunities necessary to keep such a person entertained than at the bar of Two Chefs? This ten-seater is cozy enough to get to know your neighbor but roomy enough to be served a full-course meal. And not just any meal, but one that might include escargot pot pie with smoked pork and sun-dried tomatoes, asparagus salad with Maine lobster and chimichurri, or a flatbread topped with Chinese black bean barbecued shrimp. Nor does the inspired elegance stop short of the wine list, which comprises smartly chosen, internationally renowned vintages that are poured into Riedel glassware. Feel the need to chat with someone about the virtues of the Gary Farrell Zinfandel and how it pairs with the oak-baked portobello with Gruyère and sourdough toast? Seek out the two chefs themselves, Soren Bredahl and Jan Jorgensen -- when two names are on the marquee, it's a pretty good bet that at least one is in the kitchen at all times.
Readers Choice: At home
If you don't order one of the mofongo dishes at Old San Juan Restaurant, order a five-dollar mofongo ball with your entrée. The pork-and-mashed plantain combination is cooked perfectly. Puerto Rican cuisine may not be the pathway to weight loss (lots of pork, lots of pork and chicken cracklings, lots of fried everything) but it is undoubtedly comfort food with warm flavors (garlic and oregano are prominent) and no fiery spices. The restaurant isn't cheap, but with most entrées between ten and twenty dollars, it's far from the most expensive in Miami. The mofongo dishes come with just about everything, from the traditional fried pork to lobster, conch, or octopus. Other menu highlights include the pasteles (a Puerto Rican dumpling stuffed with seasoned chicken or pork and boiled in a green-plantain leaf), and the asopaos, rice stews served with combinations of seafood, meats, and (of course) fried plantains.
Emblazoned on the sign of this Brazilian rodizio-style restaurant is, appropriately, a pig. Indeed this is a restaurant experience not for the faint of heart or stomach (vegetarians should steer clear). Porcao's staff will bring to your table a seemingly endless supply of grilled beef, chicken, pork, lamb, and sausage until you give the signal to stop. The $34.99 (plus tax) dinner also includes a mountainous buffet salad bar, and is an especially good value considering you shouldn't need to eat for the next 24 hours at least. If you have room for dessert, we recommend you share, lest you add avarice to your list of sins. For the less ravenous, try lunch (choice of carne, chicken, or fish, plus the aforementioned salad extravaganza) for $14.90 weekdays from noon to 5:00 p.m. Daytime dining includes a lovely view from the airy dining room of Brickell Key and the bay.
Tacos for breakfast? Sure! Lunch? Yes! Dinner? Absolutely! Heck, tacos and all manner of authentic Mexican eats can be had any time of the day at Roberto's in the heart of Hialeah. This 4-year-old offshoot of the 33-year-old San Diego-based chain that counts more than 50 outlets nationwide (including Cutler Ridge, Kendall, and another in Hialeah) is open 24/7. For those who simply cannot contemplate another trip to Taco Bell, Roberto's offers made-to-order tostadas, enchiladas, chimichangas, quesadillas, burritos, tortas, and tacos. Not to mention a choice of ten inexpensive (most cost around $4.95) and enormous combination plates served with rice and refried beans. Sides include chips and cheese and silky guacamole. Frosty Mexican beverages such as cinnamon-almond-rice blend horchata, tamarind nectar, and hibiscus-flower derivative jamaica are the perfect thirst-quenchers. Oh, about that breakfast: A variety of breakfast burritos and combo plates that feature rice, tortillas, and beans make for a tasty and filling first meal.
Know this going in -- Novecento is not another version of the same-old, same-old Argentine steak house. In fact it has more in common with the typical Parisian bistro, and we could praise it just for breaking out of the stereotypical parrillada box alone. Fortunately we can also laud it for offering Alton Road residents artistic salads such as the artichoke hearts, frisée, haricots verts, grapefruit, and toasted almonds tossed in a honey-lime vinaigrette, and fish dishes including grilled tuna with yuca, sliced onions, jalapeños, cherry tomatoes, sliced avocados, and chimichurri salsa. Which is not to say that the eatery isn't a meatery -- beefier entrées range from entrecote a la pimienta (steak with peppercorns) to medallones de lomo (filet mignon medallions in a Malbec reduction), with rib eyes and skirt steaks and lamb chops thrown in the mix, too. But the presentations are more sophisticated than the slab of skirt steak on a plate that we're used to seeing, and the side dishes, such as sweet potato purée or root vegetable gratin, rate a bit higher than mashed spuds or rice. As does Novecento, a much-needed addition to the area, in general.
Homestead may seem an unlikely location for an Asian grocery, but Sau Leung explains the simple reason why she and husband Tim, a Cantonese couple from Hong Kong, wound up peddling Sri Racha sauce in a town known for taco stands and pickup trucks. "We used to live in Kendall, but Homestead is much nicer. The people are nicer." Fair enough -- the traffic's better, too, although Sau admits that a dearth of customers is starting to cause business problems. "There's a little bit more Thai and Vietnamese people coming to Homestead, but most of them work in farming so they don't need to buy vegetables from us." In addition to a prodigious supply of produce, Tim's shelves are stocked with multitudes of fish and oyster sauces, won ton and egg roll wrappers, sesame oils, spices and spice mixes, noodles, even Asian dishware and paper lamps. If you're coming from Kendall, buy a six-pack of Kirin for $7.50 -- it should last about as long as it takes to navigate the traffic home.
A mensch, as defined in Leo Rosten's The Joys of Yiddish, is "someone of consequence," of solid character. This could also serve as the definition of a bagel -- a real bagel, that is, chewy enough to provide challenge, not those puffed-up pillows sold by supermarkets and most bagel chains, many of which don't even bother boiling their sissy specimens before baking them. For a bagel with guts you go to the source -- H&H Bagels of New York, by many accounts the world's absolute best. (Visit www.hhbagels.com to learn more.) Though the mid-Miami Beach branch of the originally NYC-based Tasti D-Lite chain makes most of its tasty baked goods in-house, the owners are wise enough to not mess with perfection. Their bagels are flown in from H&H. These are bagels that provide resistance to the teeth and honest yeasty flavor that comes from its own dough, not from blueberries, chocolate chips, or other frou-frou additions. They are mensch bagels, and in providing them, Tasti D-Lite has done Miami's human mensches a mitzvah.
What it lacks in location -- stuck as it is in the corner of a strip mall -- it more than makes up for in goodies, which explains why Renaissance has won five Best of Miami awards over the years. From scones to San Francisco sourdough. From empanadas to a chicken sandwich on focaccia with roasted red peppers. They make it there. And they make it memorable. Sit inside at the bar and soak up the aromas. And if it takes awhile to reheat that croissant, don't fret. The microwave isn't broken. It's warming the way it should be: in the oven.
Hangout of Homestead regulars and racing fans alike, Shiver's has been operating for most of the last 50-odd years (they took some time out for natural disasters like Hurricane Andrew). It's a typical barbecue joint in that it's shack-shaped and filled with long wooden tables and benches. There are the obligatory old-timey doodads tacked to the walls -- lanterns, horseshoes, cattle horns. One entire wall is covered in a mural depicting a pastoral antebellum landscape that exists nowhere in Florida. In the kitchen you'll find barbecued chicken, beef, and pork, farm-raised catfish, hush puppies, beans, fried okra, even key lime pie and peach cobbler. Most everything is well turned out considering the reasonable prices, with all but the high-dollar meals (like a fifteen-dollar slab of baby-back ribs) falling between four and eight dollars. A five-dollar pork sandwich consists of tender, thin-sliced, smoked pork piled on a bun, with crinkley fries and a side of cole slaw. The warm, peppery barbecue sauce is also on the side. The place is open seven days a week 11:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m.
Lynda Hull: "Sometimes after hours of wine I can almost see the night gliding in low off the harbor." Judith Berke: "The trees were wine and the sky was wine, and everything that wasn't the wine, was wine." Heather McHugh: "The wine glass fills with sun, a slow bright bomb. The mob in me sits still." So you see that the poets have spoken, and once they have spoken, must in some way be heard. Who was listening? Vino in Coconut Grove. Vin Amante and Flûte in South Beach. Joseph's Brasserie and Wine Bar in Sunny Isles. These wine and champagne bars, among others, have heeded the call to the vine and debuted within the last year to offer restless Miami residents a welcome alternative to martinis. Consider them the natural alternative to Ritalin. And now the mob in all of us can sit still.
For $1.27, proprietors Fernando and Belkis Lopez offer up a deliciously spicy black bean soup that would make any Cuban mom envious. You can order it to go or savor the soup inside the Lopezes' humble restaurant, a popular lunchtime spot for the Gables working crowd, many of whom pop in to take advantage of specials such as turkey peccadillo and veggie lasagna. You can also enjoy one of the dozen or so pocket pita sandwiches and wraps along with your black bean soup for a well-rounded meal. Also featured on the menu are luscious smoothies and vegetable-juice combos purported to cure every ill from arthritis and acne to indigestion and impotence. Open for breakfast and lunch, from 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Monday through Friday.
Readers Choice: Dos Amigas
This establishment again reaps kudos (for the third year in a row) for its winning combination of traditional cuisine (with a good selection of fish for the noncarnivores in your crowd), festive atmosphere, and dangerously delicious caipirinhas. Get down with your samba self during the live music and dance shows on Friday and Saturday nights (Picanha's hosts karaoke nights on Thursdays). During the week it's dinner only. Weekends they open the doors at noon to those who come for a leisurely lunch that well may include the traditional feijoada.
Cane Á Sucre's version of the caesar isn't a big heaping mess of lettuce, cheese, garlic, dressing, and miscellaneous other items. It's a straightforward presentation of fresh romaine lettuce chopped into small squares, lightly topped with grated asiago cheese and tasty garlic croutons. A cup of homemade caesar dressing and a remarkably good, buttery piece of baguette arrive on the side. The result is light, simple, and tangy, with the cheese in sharp contrast to the lettuce, and that's before you add the dressing (to taste). In a world of fattening excess, Cane Á Sucre -- a charming combination café, bakery, and European sandwich shop -- consistently produces this classic salad with much-appreciated restraint.
Readers Choice: Christys
This comfortable Cuban restaurant at Galloway and Sunset Drive bears the spirit of La Carreta without the teeming hordes and with a much more refined décor (no grease on the leather booths). Their café con leche is a staple for neighborhood aficionados of this milk-and-coffee combination. What makes it better than other places? Well, for one thing they use whole milk unless you ask for low-fat. That may not do much for the love handles, but it bodes well for café richness. Also the Cuban coffee and warm milk are served separately so customers can mix to their liking. Added plus: The waitresses speak fluent English, so drive up from Pinecrest even if you're an old Cracker and talk like it.
What's the point of Cuban coffee without Cuban conversation? One fuels the other, high-octane caffeine igniting chatter that is usually loud, hurried, and emotional. Versailles's walk-up window, a local landmark if ever there was one, is as close to the heart of the Cuban spirit as you can get without boarding a boat and heading south. It is the quintessential café cubano experience in Miami. And here they know how this volatile catalyst should be served -- black as pitch, lots of sugar, and steaming hot.
Readers Choice: Versailles Restaurant
The best testament to Original Caribbean Kitchen's authenticity is the number of Caribbean transplants who eat there. Far from the rarefied air of the Beach, where ethnic food gains a capital "E" and checks double or triple, Original Caribbean Kitchen -- more lunch counter than sit-down restaurant -- serves the basics at generous prices. Heaping portions of curried goat, oxtail stew, stewed beef, and tripe -- all with peas and rice -- cost between $6 and $7.50. Call ahead and your goat will be waiting for you when you arrive.
Delicias is a delightful little neighborhood eatery housed in an unremarkable building on Miami's main drag. The food is good and reasonably priced. The tables are covered in Peruvian blankets protected by glass tops. A tragic telenovela quietly plays itself out on a television mounted high on the wall. An old man sits at the counter, slowly finishing his fish soup. And you are sitting at a table near a window, about to order a fresh, expertly prepared ceviche. This place has six varieties (all marinated in lemon juice): octopus, shrimp, fish, shellfish, and combinations. Order it and a drink to go. Take the lot and walk east, down to the water's edge. Eat your grub and gaze out onto Biscayne Bay.
There is a secret to serving good coffee that goes beyond the beans, the roast, and the water. Here it is: temperature. And those comical, corporate Einstein Bros. have figured this out. So they start each pot with a blend of Central and South American beans, roasted to a light brown, and they brew the java with water that is between 190 and 205 degrees Fahrenheit. (For those who skipped middle-school science: The boiling point of water is 212 degrees F.) Then, when the coffee is made, specially calibrated heaters under each urn hold the coffee at 175 degrees. That's hot. Oh, and if the brothers' employees are paying attention to company directives, they are also brewing up fresh coffee at least every hour, even if that means dumping out a full 1.5-gallon urn, according to Ron Savelli, the chain's vice president of menu development. Of course bagels, sandwiches, and soups are also available. But the allure here is coffee. Hot and fresh, Mel's Neighborhood Blend is perfection.
Even in a city filled with authentic Caribbean cuisine, suburbanites flock to the reliable Bahama Breeze chain for fine fakin' Jamaican food. Sometimes the wait is more than an hour -- not necessarily a problem if you spend it drinking in the huge outdoor bar area. The draw is the reliable quality of the food, from the goat cheese or ceviche appetizers to the steak or ropa vieja entrées. There are, unfortunately, some of the inevitable chain restaurant gimmicks in evidence; servers aren't waiters, they're "tour guides," and they dress in garish color-coded tropical-pattern shirts (although managers, oddly, have even worse shirts than waiters). One tip: The restaurant is so popular that parking is a serious problem, especially on weekends. Call in advance.
Readers Choice: Cheesecake Factory
Epicure may not be the best-in-the-county for every individual cheese type. For instance, though the homemade cow's-milk mozzarella balls are admirable, Laurenzo's have a more pronounced fresh-dairy milkiness. But the variety at Epicure is unbeatable, and includes not just popular faves like Brie but aficionado faves such as powerfully pungent Epoisse. Prices ain't cheap (many cheeses are $15 to $20 per pound), but who's counting when you're talking about hard-to-find finds like imported raw-milk cheeses, AOC cheeses (appellation-controlled, like wine), and even more unbelievable, a sizable selection of truly gourmet kosher cheese, including some unusual French imports: flavorful mimolette cheddar, a rich 60-percent matiere grasse Brie, and a nice sheep's milk brebis. The crowded cheese counter contains artisanal cheeses from all over the western world: numerous rarities from French cheesemaker Chantal Plasse, including Salers (a kicked-up-several-notches unpasteurized milk take on industrially produced Cantal); farmhouse cheddars ranging from English (Keene's) and Irish (Tipperary) to Vermont (a four-year-old Grafton). Up on the top shelf, with related dairy products like crème fraîche and a hung Greek yogurt so thick dieters will never miss sour cream, you'll find Epicure's own cheese creations, like scrumptious pesto/pignolia-dressed string cheese, and a goat cheese spread with orange rind ideal for tea sandwiches (and which makes cream cheese taste positively anemic). Just when you've finished loading up your cart, having called the bank on your cell phone to arrange to mortgage one of the kids, you turn 90 degrees and realize there's a whole separate counter of goat cheeses you haven't even considered.
Readers Choice: Epicure Market
BEST CHEF SURVIVAL
Willis Loughhead
Bizcaya Grill
Ritz-Carlton Coconut Grove
We grew concerned when we got no response to a letter sent to Willis Loughhead at Bizcaya Grill. We were inquiring about his interest in being one of eight chefs to host a "Personal Best" page in Best of Miami. A follow-up call elicited this: He was out of town and wouldn't return before our deadline passed. Out of commission was more like it. A bit more research revealed that he had been in a very serious car accident on the Julia Tuttle Causeway -- cut off by a driver who then disappeared. A slick roadway and an unforgiving guardrail left Loughhead with a broken nose and about 100 stitches in his face and head. The traumatic experience and slow recovery (now nearly complete) provided him with a new perspective on some of the best things about Miami. For instance, Best Natural High: "Walking away from a car wreck. I didn't get more than four steps or so, but at least I could stand. That, and endorphins." Best Emergency Room: "Miami Heart. It's never crowded." Best Plastic Surgeon: "Dr. Mark Broudo. From now on I'll send all my business to him." Best Medicine: "I don't know her name, but the ER nurse was pretty cute."
When South Beach superstar chef Michael Schwartz left the eatery he co-founded, Nemo, last year, local media meticulously tracked his every post-Nemo burp (literally -- a burp's length being about as long as Schwartz's much-ballyhooed tenure at Bal Harbour's Atlantic House lasted). No such attention has been accorded to new Nemo head honcho Mike Sabin. Why? Maybe because Sabin isn't really new, just newly on top; he was actually the first cook hired when Nemo opened in 1995 -- which makes his succession seem same-old-same-old. In between his original Nemo time and now, though, Sabin garnered mighty impressive cooking credits, at Pacific Time and five restaurants in the Mark Militello empire locally, as well as a stint at Virginia's Inn at Little Washington, considered by many pro foodies to be the nation's top kitchen. Nevertheless, since returning to Nemo Sabin has demonstrated remarkable restraint, displaying eagerness rather than ego-tripping. He added some of his own innovative, boldly spiced Mediterranean-influenced fusion dishes to the menu, but retained the house-cured salmon/sprout rolls, the grilled Indian-spiced pork chop, the outstanding raw bar/shellfish platters, and all the other beloved favorites Nemo's regular customers count on. This respect for long-time patrons, as well as Sabin's meticulous attention to detail, almost superhuman energy, and just plain talent, make him worthy of much more notice.
One measure of the popularity of this place's wings is the fact that you must order them early on high holy days such as title fights, national championships, or the Super Bowl. Otherwise you could wait hours, so heavy is the demand. And no wonder. These are the meatiest wings in town. Unbreaded and grilled to nongreasy perfection, they're served in huge wooden bowls for party gorging. The toughest decision is always the dipping sauce: special, buffalo, or Miami Heat, which has been known to leave burn marks. The prices are popular too: 16 pieces for $10; 25 pieces for $12.50; and multiples of ten after that.
Cumin and tomato are the starring flavors in the heaping bowls of chili served at Picnics at Allen's, but the atmosphere at this Fifties-style pharmacy and lunch counter steals the show. Owners Marie and Jerry Burg are personable without being obsequious (an attitude mirrored by the waitstaff), creating an atmosphere that seems more like a real neighborhood restaurant than a self-conscious retro re-creation. Jerry, who cooks the chili, says good-quality ground beef and huge helpings make the chili ($3.95 for a bowl with generous portions of onions and cheese on the side) popular. He also admits that even the "spicy" chili isn't firehouse hot. "I don't like to make it so hot you can't taste it -- that's what the Tabasco's for." Tiny Tabasco bottles line the counter, where patrons can sit on spinning chrome and vinyl stools and make like they're headed for the sock hop, or cross the black-and-white checkerboard floor to sit at one of the cushy booths. "The recipe is one of those things that get handed down through the years," says Marie, "although [original owners] the Allens used hot peppers in theirs, and we don't do that." A Picnics at Allen's milkshake (the 2002 New Times Best Milkshake winner) is the perfect cure for Tabasco overapplication.
Most conch fritters should be called "conch-flavored fritters," so little actual shellfish is represented. In fact, calling them conch-flavored would even be stretching it since the main taste impressions most of these deep-fried balls leave are: 1) traditional leaden cornmeal batter, no doubt invaluable in Florida's pioneer days when fritters doubled as cannonballs to knock out the Spanish armada; 2) too much too-old grease; and 3) too many chili peppers to mask the taste of too-old grease. At Captain Jim's fish market/eatery, in contrast, the fritter batter is fried puffy-light (like a Spanish churro, Italian zeppole, Seminole fry bread, or AnyStateFairUSA fried dough) in oil almost as fresh as the place's fish. And that is saying something. There are indeed jalapeños for heat, as well as sweet green peppers for crunch, but never enough to overwhelm each fritter's generous haul of big, chewy-yet-tender conch chunks. Each order comes with six fritters, and the only sane reason to not get two or three orders is that you want to save room for Captain Jim's simple but superb shrimp scampi.
Wake up on a Saturday morning longing for a fresh croissant and you're outta luck here. Like most shops in this predominantly Orthodox Jewish neighborhood, Brioche Dorée isn't open on Saturday, and you can't pick up your morning pastry fix on the way home from work the night before because the bakery closes, invariably cleaned out of croissants, at 3:00 p.m. weekdays. The place doesn't take credit cards either. But all the inconveniences are worth it. No bakery in Miami-Dade County makes a more melt-in-your-mouth croissant. (Which explains why La Brioche Dorée has taken this award four times previously.) In fact, though the secret is supposedly genuine French butter, which is denser than American supermarket stuff, it's hard to find a croissant even in France that beats Brioche's, so delectable briefly warmed to bring out the dairy richness that applying extra butter at table seems superfluous. Tip: Brioche bakes half-size mini-croissants that are perfect party brunch fare, but these sell out even earlier than the full-size models, so go early, especially on Sunday when the place opens at 7:00 a.m.
"You go to Versailles for the people," reflects Bill, tipping the last of his garlic shrimp from fork to mouth. "You come to Villa Havana for the food." Basic, inexpensive Cuban food deftly delivered is what has kept the lines at this restaurant long for years. For lunch, a $4.95 plate of tender ropa vieja (con arroz y maduros, claro!) is among the best in town, certainly for the price. The place is clean, unpretentious, and well lit. The vested and bow-tied waiters are fast, helpful, and occasionally flirtatious with the women. Of course if you are looking for something a bit more pretentious, the menu includes several lobster dishes in the $15 to $19 range. "Yeah, I know that place real well," says New York Times scribe Rick Bragg, who spent several years slumming in Miami before moving to a similarly decadent city, New Orleans. "They have a ham shank that will bring tears to your eyes, the best one outside Alabama." Pause. "If you don't eat it, you could always save it till someone you don't like walks by and use it to beat them over the head." The place is open every day from 11:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m.
Readers Choice: La Carreta
For the past 38 years, Sarussi has offered the biggest Cuban sandwich in town: fifteen inches long and a good four inches tall. What makes owner Humberto Betancourt such a culinary genius is not mere size, however. It is his top-secret hot sauce. Piquant but not spicy, the peppery condiment gives this full meal of a sandwich a unique flair. Hints of Tabasco, mojo, tomato sauce, and some unidentified salsa reportedly smuggled in from Costa Rica. Intelligence sources say he prepares the sauce in a secure bunker beneath his heavily guarded home. Direct questions about the ingredients are met with icy stares, then mocking laughter. Good try.
"You don't need teeth to eat our meat," boasts the barbecue joint's menu. Apparently you don't need legs to get take-out service, either. Just call ahead for some hickory-smoked pulled chicken sandwiches, collard greens, homemade cornbread, and succulent pork ribs, give another ring when you've pulled up to the front door, and the friendly folks inside will hurry outside with your order. It's like a bank drive-thru, but with no need to show ID. And given the lack of street-side parking and the somewhat unsavory neighborhood, the service is not just a good but a necessary idea. The trick, of course, is not to swill down the beef brisket before you even pull back into traffic.
"I feel like I've stepped back into Brooklyn, circa 1961," observed a Jersey-based visitor upon entering the Mecca of Miami delis. Rascal House was established in 1954, so the visitor wasn't too far off. Weekends and around holidays it can be a madhouse, although an organized one, as the clientele (which skews toward the blue-rinse, polyester-clad of a certain age) shuffles through lines divided according to the size of the party. The food is not always 100-percent fabulous, but one can forget minor transgressions when starting in on sour pickles, tangy coleslaw, and a slice of buttered challah bread. Almost without exception, portions are huge, whether it's the pot roast, a regular sandwich (never mind the sky highs!), or homemade desserts such as the chocolate bobka, guaranteed to keep you on a sugar high for at least two days.
Readers Choice: Wolfie Cohens Rascal House
Even at excellent sushi bars, the best that diners can expect at meal's end is some red-bean or green-tea ice cream out of a carton. At Shoji Sushi, where Hedy Goldsmith reigns as pastry chef, the green tea flavors a to-die-for white chocolate cheesecake with blackberry coulis, or a crème brûlée accompanied by sake gelee, candied kumquats, and a lacy brown rice tuile. Goldsmith, an honors graduate of the Culinary Institute of America's first Baking & Pastry Arts class, is also in charge of the desserts at the other two restaurants in Myles Chefetz's one-square-block South Beach eats empire, upscale New American Nemo and all-American diner Big Pink, and at each of the three very different eateries, the sweets flawlessly suit the mood. Nemo regulars would riot if Goldsmith's warm chocolate pudding cake in a rich sweet cream puddle were ever removed from the menu. Big Pink people would sooner allow ya to step on their blue suede shoes than to leave the table without a big chunk of Elvis's favorite red velvet cake -- here even more heavenly than in The King's current place of residence. Let's face it: the woman is not a pastry chef, she is a Dessert Goddess, capital letters totally intended.
Readers Choice: Cheesecake Factory
Bigger and better known -- as well as, for sure, better looking -- Tropical Chinese just a few blocks away is a tough act to beat when it comes to dim sum, China's traditional teahouse lunch/brunch. But although Tropical's dumplings and other "small plates" are mostly just as tasty, casual Kon Chau rules when it comes to authenticity. Truly serious fans can even feast on chicken feet (the trick is to not munch but suck the things like lollipops, concentrating on the fabulous black bean sauce rather than the tiny toenails). For the rest of us, there are over 60 steamed, stir-fried, stewed, or grilled selections, some sweet but most savory, with dumplings predominating: delicate steamed cilantro-spiked pork or shrimp har gau, wrapped in near-transparent pasta; more substantial large round raviolis stuffed with shiitakes, shrimp, and Asian garlic chives; addictively chewy cheoung fun, super-succulently sauced rice noodle crêpes filled with beef, pork, or shrimp. Especially impressive are hard-to-make holiday items like taro and turnip cakes, but even the simplest congees (variously flavored rice porridges) and roast pork or Chinese sausage buns seem more skillfully made than at most places in town ... or in New York, San Francisco, Vancouver, possibly even Hong Kong.
It's always open (24-7); it has a solid bar (with a separate entrance); it's got a no-nonsense load of records that management plays relentlessly -- "I Fought the Law" by the Bobby Fuller Four; "Crazy Arms" by Jerry Lee Lewis; "Secret Agent Man" by Johnny Rivers -- wonderfully appropriate for these times. Then there's the real diner food -- pork chops with barbecue sauce, mashed potatoes with brown gravy, green peas, Coke with lemon, all for $12.50. Plus there's the enigmatically beautiful crew: Christine, the statuesque blond waitress; Eloise, the even taller, elegant waitress; Ricky, the little dancer type, Andy, the owner ... And interesting people traffic with informed conversation. It's the reason the ten-year-old Eleventh Street Diner has won before.
When the entire glazed doughnut melts in your mouth like its velvety-crisp icing, you know you have a winner. Independently run Sunshine Donuts makes the kind of fluffy and sweet fried treats that people on diets dream of and drool over. Whether they be glazed, powdered, or Miami-style jelly doughnuts (filled with guava, dulce de leche, or mamey), you're getting fresh, made-on-the-premises goods that are worth the caloric indulgence. Sunshine also offers authentic Cuban café con leche, which is ideal for doughnut dunking.
From 4:00 to 6:00 p.m. every weekday the Fish House showcases its excellent fresh-fish selection with an earlybird special for seafood lovers. Fresh fillets of all their fish -- from yellowtail to grouper to tilapia -- along with a side (try the excellent coleslaw) are just $7.99. The only catch is the parking lot. There's nowhere near enough room in the lot for all the cars, so patrons park on the sidewalk and in the median between Miller Road and the strip mall where the restaurant is located. It's worth the hassle.
Little Havana is changing. It used to be difficult to take the red peppers and mix them with the green, blend the onions with the grilled chickens and luscious strips of beef. But no longer. In a post-Elian world, you can bring it all together under the cover of a warm corn tortilla. Remember, fajita comes from the Latin word fascia, which means band, as in band together. So if you're going out for a little dialogue with your friends, why not stop at this Mexican restaurant, see the new Little Havana, and put all the ingredients together at last.
A falafel sandwich at either Pita Plus has yet to disappoint: crisp but never greasy, its temperature cooled with delicious hummus and tahini and topped with fresh salad -- and hot sauce if you want to kick it up a notch. Standard Middle Eastern fare like kebabs, kibbe, and gyro are also available at these kosher establishments, as is a fish sandwich named for St. Peter. The Aventura outpost is located in the back of the Loehmann's Plaza, a perfect spot to revive oneself after a strenuous session at the discount clothing emporium, but it's closed on Saturdays. Given the hungry hordes of clubbers and tourists, the South Beach branch is open for biz seven days -- and stays open late.
BEST FARMERS MARKET
South Florida Farmers Market
Gardner's Markets at Pinecrest
Judge a farmers' market not by the nature of its distractions but by the quality of its produce. So what if you can find stilt walkers juggling swords while balancing flaming pineapples on their heads and telling off-color jokes to bleary-eyed parents with toddlers in tow at other local markets. Elizabeth and Maurice Adams, proprietors of Gardner's Markets, have quite a different mission statement in mind -- promote regional products and educate, rather than entertain, the masses. Or as they note on their Website: "We sponsor this farmers' market in hopes of creating a dialogue between growers and consumers. Our mission is to present a forum for the sale and purchase of fresh food grown or produced by the people selling it." Which is why on Sundays from 9:00 a.m. till 1:00 p.m., from the beginning of January through the end of March every year, you can meet the faces behind the vegetables. Like Teena Borek of Teena's Pride, who is well-known for her two dozen varieties of colorful heirloom tomatoes, including Cherokee purple, green Zebra, and Brandywine red. Or Bee Heaven Farms's Margie Pikarsky, who heads up the Redland Organics, a community-supported agriculture cooperative that grows and sells locally everything from mustard greens to sunflowers. In short, the South Florida Farmers Market is really just another way of saying "teikei," a Japanese term that translates quite literally to "putting the farmer's face on food."
It's not the bread. It's not the toppings. It's not even the tartar sauce, though when it's homemade it can only help. The ineluctable element that makes a fish sandwich worthy of wonder is the fish itself: fresh, moist, and succulent, drawn straight from the water and filleted. When it comes to that core ingredient, there's no one we appreciate more than Capt. Jim Hanson, lifelong Miami resident and veteran commercial fisherman. At his seafood market-cum-quaint-neighborhood eatery, you can request the fish of the day, usually mahi-mahi or grouper, or be as specific as choosing the fillet -- that red snapper, right there -- you want out of the refrigerated cases. Then Captain Jim's staff will fry, grill, broil, or blacken it for you, pop it onto a roll with lettuce, tomato, and coleslaw, and even give you a choice of side dishes with it. We recommend the hush puppies, along with a cold Hurricane Reef Pale Ale.
Covertly it lurks in the refrigerated case, concealed among the soft drinks and ice teas. The double agent of desserts, it is rich yet somehow light and not off-puttingly eggy. A quivering homemade creation that is simultaneously rico and suave. See, the real secret at the Secret Sandwich Co. is not the sandwiches but the desserts, especially the flan. And now that we've told you, we'll have to kill you.
Chef/owner Alan Hughes took his velvety foie gras off the menu for a month or two, but customer demand for it was so high he had to reverse his decision. What makes his concoction so delicious is the simplicity of it. Hughes uses French goose livers, but says Californians make excellent ones as well. The key, he says, is to sear a steak from the fatty goose liver very hot, but because it is primarily fat, you don't want it so hot that it "renders," or melts. Served on a brioche, drizzled with port wine concentrate, and priced at a very reasonable nine dollars, it is an outstanding gustatory experience. The restaurant is open Tuesday through Saturday and brunch on Sunday.
Why are Miami Subs' fries so addictive? First of all, they're more visually appealing than the pale-yellow "freedom" fries dished up at other fast-food joints. Miami Subs cooks its fries until they're a golden, resonant brown. That means they're always crunchy and never underdone like those of so many competitors. But the real attraction, the reason you can't help coming back repeatedly for these rail-thin spuds, is the secret seasoning that imparts a memorable yet mysterious flavor -- a little spicy, a little exotic. Miami Subs honchos will not divulge the precise recipe, and that's fine. Who wants to try this at home anyway?
Readers Choice: McDonalds
By the time you read this, Captain Dan and Chef Reddy expect to have reopened their shop, formerly next to Café del Mar, up the road apiece in bigger digs. The friendly Chef Reddy, who previously won our hearts and tummies when he sent us home with some melt-in-your-mouth tuna and a recipe (which we prepared with coarse salt he had smoked in-house), promises a bigger selection overall. Recognizing that many folks just don't have the time to cook, he's gearing up to offer an expanded variety of ready-to-cook dishes as well as prepared foods such as salmon pastrami, ceviches, clam chowders, shrimp cocktail with mango-citrus sauce, and other delights of the sea. He's still frying up traditional fish-and-chips, which he'd begun to serve at the teeny old place, as well as other fare that can be consumed on-site.
This Liberty City diner has been frying up its tasty delights for 40-plus years and nary a thing looks like it has changed since its inception, from the neon lights and the yellowing signs highlighting menu items to the always reliable food. The smell of grease hangs heavily in the air, and will unfortunately stay with you long after you depart. Never mind. Dive right in and leave any waistline concerns at the door. Feast with abandon on piles of chicken or shrimp, or both via one of the bounteous combo platters. Sides like black-eyed peas and collard greens serve as savory reminders that Florida has always been a Southern state. The less-than-elegant address shouldn't dissuade gourmands. It's about five minutes from I-95, and at night the lights in the parking lot are blindingly bright.
There are literally dozens of frita joints scattered along Calle Ocho, some of which claim to be the reyes (kings) of fritas while others boast they're the magos (wizards) of the spicy Cuban hamburger (curried beef and fried onion topped with papitas, freshly fried potato shreds). But Fritas Domino has an identity all its own -- it's an original. Recently a fortysomething gentleman walked up to the counter and asked for the managers. He wasn't complaining, he just wanted to say hello. The man wondered if the managers remembered him. He used to work at Fritas Domino's original location, Calle Ocho at Twelfth Avenue. The Espivil family, who opened it in 1961 as a place where exiles could find authentic Cuban food, had given him his first job off the island. The conversation moved from sentimental recollections to fists-down declarations regarding Fritas Domino's stature among Miami frita shops. Referring to a competitor, the former worker emphatically declared, "They say they're kings, but they're not Domino!"
"Frozen yogurt? Who eats frozen yogurt these days?" asked our incredulous editor. Well, if the satisfied crowds at the Beach's yogurt emporiums are any gauge, lots of people. Consequence-free indulgence is South Beach's credo, and a cup of frozen yogurt remains the choice for locals seeking to satisfy their sweet tooth while still keeping a neurotic eye on their waistline. Tasti D-Lite Café, nearby in Mid-Beach, has become a new favorite (its New York City namesake brand is already on the minds of transplanted Manhattanites), but for those seeking to truly have their cake, er, yogurt, and eat it too, Creams 'N Yogurt is tops. Not low-fat but absolutely fat-free, and only seven calories per ounce, it's a tasty yet guiltless treat. Flavors change regularly (just try to find dulce de leche at your nearest TCBY franchise), so why not go back for seconds. Heck, be really bad. Order a large!
On weekends the lines go out the door at this diminutive gelateria. But in the case of this franchise of an Italian operation, it's absolutely worth the wait, even if you can't snag one of its precious few seats. The gleaming, high-tech shop is sparklingly clean without being sterile (even the bathrooms are outfitted with what look like designer fixtures). The staff is outfitted in bright yellow overalls and matching bandanas, and they keep things moving along efficiently. As in Italy, you place your order and pay, then take your receipt to a server who scoops up an artfully shaped mountain of creamy delights from a rainbow-hued selection of flavors. If you opt for a cup instead of a cone, your gelato is topped off with a crisp cookie, a nice touch -- and tasty too. The single portion is already decadently large; the double should satisfy even the greediest -- or do duty as a perfect shared dessert to top off a date in the Grove. Bacio also serves one of the best espressos this side of Roma.
Since both Zabar's and Fairway selfishly expanded their Manhattan stores rather than open branches down here in the sixth borough, Epicure wins this one again. Norman Bros. has more and better produce (designer lettuces like frisée and mâche; genuinely ripe tomatoes) at better prices; Gardner's has more interesting homemade dips and spreads; Arnie & Richie's has more succulent smoked fish; Laurenzo's has a more extensive and reasonably priced selection of wines, fresh fish, meats, fresh pasta, and Italian groceries. But when you consider Epicure's astonishing cheese selection, a bakery that carries everything from bagels to birthday cakes, a vast array of prepared foods second to none, an ever-expanding variety of ethnic specialties (including a recently added chorizo that will reduce Spanish-sausage lovers to tears), general variety (there's even a small but interesting selection of cookbooks), and overall high quality -- albeit at high prices -- it's undeniable that Epicure is still the best all-around, one-stop source for gourmet groceries.
Located directly across from the perennially popular Vacas Gordas, this newcomer to the North Beach restaurant scene is proof positive that man should not live by steak alone. A very friendly brother-and-sister team have created -- with the requisite blue-and-white color scheme and murals on the walls -- an eatery that is light and airy by day and comfortably cozy by night. The first bite of a toasty slice of pita topped with creamy tzatziki dip may tempt one to feast only on appetizers and salads (all made with the freshest of ingredients on site). But don't miss out on the whole snapper or daily fish special -- served simply, with olive oil, garlic, lemon, and herbs -- or the lamb souvlaki, with the big cubes of meat nicely charred on the outside, beautifully pink on the inside. And save room for desserts, several of which are outsourced -- to the owners' Greek mama who lives nearby. If you're in the area for lunch, the $7.50 weekday special is a steal: soup, small Greek salad, and choice of moussaka, pastitio, gyro, or lamb stew.
The emphasis is on "nuvo" here, as Haiti-born chef/owner Ivan Dorvil puts his own spin on the cookery of his homeland with updated, more sophisticated versions that reflect his own training in Montreal and influences picked up at various stints during his career. That said, the traditional pumpkin soup haitienne is just that, hearty fare that spells comfort food for those with Caribbean roots. Friendly and personable, Dorvil will patiently walk you through the menu and his specials, and then disappear into the kitchen to whip them up. He is sure to come back out later to monitor your progress and chat in the pleasant dining room decorated with folk art and burlap curtains. Not yet open a year, Nuvo Kafe will, we hope, manage to stick around.
Sure the place is a hole in the wall. But it's a cool hole in the wall, and in South Beach a seven-ounce burger at any kind of cool place is going to average at least a couple of bucks more than Baby's $5.50 ($6.50 for a cheeseburger) -- plus you don't know what quality of meat you're getting. At local promoter/fast-food impresario Tommy Pooch's place, the beef is 100-percent certified Angus, and tastes so full-flavored by itself that no accouterments are necessary. Accouterments are, however, a strong point at Baby's. Burgers come with lettuce, tomato, onions, pickles, condiments, and choice of bread (egg roll, Texas toast, or hoagie roll). Cheeseburgers come with a much bigger selection of cheese than usual: American, cheddar, Swiss, mozzarella, provolone, even bleu cheese or feta. An extra 50 cents for a generous grilled onion garnish puts the burger over the top, and accompaniments of real (not frozen reconstituted-potato) French fries and an exquisite, handmade vanilla-bean milkshake puts you in hamburger heaven. (Important note: Do spring for a full-size burger; the 2.5-ounce "baby burgers," unlike their big sibs, are too small to be reliably cooked to diners' desired degree of rareness.)
Readers Choice: Fuddruckers
Ideally the best source for quality natural foods and health-related products would be a local operation, not a national chain. Unfortunately most independents offer little more than a small selection of tired produce and prepared foods that look healthy but not like anything you'd actually want to eat. National giant Whole Foods carries a big selection of the best. Produce sparkles, the section including not just the expected mesclun mixes but gourmet greens as well: frisée, ruby chard, various colored kales. There's a sizable selection of fresh fish, including Florida lobsters in season (at a decent price) and sushi-grade tuna and salmon that is truly trustworthy. The meat counter carries beef cuts that are not just free of antibiotics for good health but nicely marbled for good taste. Sometimes, if you're quick enough, you'll find top-rated Eberly free-range poultry. Prepared foods are plentiful and delicious. The wine selection is thoughtful, with many unusual choices and helpful descriptive cards to eliminate the intimidation factor. Lots of ethnic food. Lots of vitamins and chem/cruelty-free cosmetics. And most crucial in a health-food store, chocolate from El Rey, a Venezuelan producer of single-source chocolate that arguably is the world's best-tasting -- and of course chock full of those healthy antioxidants that are the real reason we eat the stuff.
Though this small café is named for the soft pseudo-ice cream it serves from a machine in the back (three flavors daily), the frozen dessert, which is not as gross as most cream-free "ice cream," is not the main attraction. What packs the place every weekday (closed weekends) are its tasty salads, wraps, and sandwiches made with extraordinarily fresh produce. Homemade sauces that are light but highly herbed substitute for butter, mayo, and high-calorie salad dressings. The tart, nutty, totally nongloppy sesame sauce coating the al dente noodles makes Tasti's pasta salad especially tasty. Everything served is meatless, though some items feature dairy and/or fish ingredients (a very light egg salad; a strongly tarragon-tasting tuna salad), and everything comes enclosed by, or accompanied by, fresh house-baked breads. During South Florida's three annual weeks of winter, the healthy homemade soups (different daily) are substantial, satisfying stuff too.
Readers Choice: Natural Chicken Grill
The only fresh variety of pasta regularly on the menu at this teeny restaurant is the pappardelle, which alone is worth a visit. Otherwise you'll have to take your chances when you go (low risk, high return). During a recent dinner there, these broad, melt-in-your mouth noodles were starring in two of the tempting daily specials. Should your dining companions fancy something else, the spaghetti or pretty much anything else on the menu will set them to rights. Given that the word is out on the consistently delicious Italian food dished out nightly, if you've got a hankering, you'd better call ahead. Mangia bene!
Since opening in June 2002, Juliet and Jeffrey Wall's friendly little ice cream parlor just west of South Dixie Highway has been pretty steadily packed with people who appreciate the kind of ice cream they wished they'd had as kids: not air-inflated supermarket swill and not designer gelatos but classic creamy, comforting, country U.S.A.-style stuff with a slightly elastic quality reminiscent of Turkey's justly famous frozen dondurma. There's something for everyone, including a few sugarless flavors, among Wall's almost 30 daily choices: lush vanilla, fresh-fruity mango, bracing lemon sorbet, seriously fudgeholic triple chocolate, even playfully alcoholic (actually alcohol-free) beer-flavored stout ice cream -- best paired with a pretzel cone, one of a half-dozen kinds of cones. You can eat inside the cottage-style establishment, but there's also an outdoor area for nostalgic sorts who quite rightly feel that an old-fashioned American ice cream cone tastes better in a sunny summertime parking lot, licking and chatting with other drive-in patrons.
Readers Choice: Swensens Ice Cream Parlor & Restaurant
Décor is unassuming at this downtown lunch room -- it's basically a hole-in-the-wall, albeit a clean and cheerful one -- and most of the roughly dozen dishes served daily are steam-tabled, not made to order, which definitely puts them in the "fast food" rather than "fine food" category. Still, since most Indian food is relatively slow-cooked rather than quickly stir-fried like that of most other Asian nations, it survives the steam table well. Raja's $4.69 combination platter is among downtown's tastiest lunch options. And not merely tasty but absolutely addictive are three South Indian house specialties found neither on the steam table nor in any other Miami-Dade Indian restaurant: dosai, uttapam, and idli. These mouthwatering made-to-order savory, ground-rice pancakes, served with a choice of several stuffings and/or toppings (the rolled potato-filled masala dosa crepe and thicker, onion-packed uttapam are particularly good), plus sides of sambar (a soothing veggie-packed puréed lentil dhal) and spicy/sweet coconut chutney are well worth the ten-to-twenty minute wait.
In terms of upscale "New Indian" cuisine, an innovative, lightened-up approach to traditional Indian food, Miami as yet has nothing that modern. But many dishes at Imlee come close; even the bargain buffet lunch is largely a custom-cooked affair rather than the usual collection of steam-tabled stuff that, at most Indian eateries, sits, stewing itself into increasingly soggy submission as the afternoon wears on. Try kadai shrimp, five seriously fiery fresh jumbo shellfish cooked perfectly tender and coated with rich, reduced tomato sauce. Equally electrically spiced is paneer jahlfrezi, a take on classic chili-spiked chicken jahlfrezi with custardy pressed yogurt cheese substituted for poultry; even more imaginative paneer pakora, nothing like normal pakoras, uses rectangles of firm fried paneer to enclose savory spiced spinach stuffing. For vegetarians, malai kofta, cloud-light nonmeat "meatballs" in a smooth but intriguingly tongue-tingling cream sauce, will be a wonder. Imlee's sleekly spare décor, immeasurably less embarrassing than that at most Indian joints (which tend toward either dumpiness or Last Days of the Raj excess), makes the place entirely appropriate for an elegant date or dignified business dinner, as well as a casual night out with family or friends.
Readers Choice: House of India
Making sure both your stomach and your wallet are full: That's what the folks at Mama Jennie's, home to delicious, reasonably priced Italian comfort food, have been doing for more than 30 years. Hearty soup or crispy salad with your choice of dressing (the zesty house vinaigrette is a favorite) and garlic rolls lightly doused in flavorful oil begin your meal. Myriad main courses include whopping servings of classics such as baked ziti with meatballs; veal Parmesan; eggplant rollatini; lasagna; gnocchi; and stuffed shells, all accompanied by Mama's lively marinara sauce. Pizza boasting all sorts of tasty toppings like pepperoni, mushrooms, or meatballs is also an option. Waistline watchers need not go hungry: Not everything is piled high with cheese and sauce. Herb-grilled chicken is among the low-fat selections. Still haven't burst your buttons or busted your budget? Don't forget dessert, which greets you in the fridge strategically placed at the dining room's entrance. Goodies can range from cannolis to spumoni to cheesecake and carrot cake.
Readers Choice: Oggi Caffe
Don't let mottos like "home of the $3.99 lunch special with free drink" fool you. Sure, the restaurant's truth-in-advertising bears up -- the midday meal really is that darn cheap -- but Jamaica Inn is about much more than value. It's about authenticity. In other words, the peas and rice? Moist. The stewed oxtail? Meaty. The jerk pork? Aromatic. The curry goat? Spicy. And the Red Stripe? Cold, of course. Which is quite refreshing considering the level of heat activity that is going on in most of the dishes here, but especially in the tamarind sauce that comes on the side -- that stuff can steam-clean your brain. Jamaica Inn? Ja, mon.
You won't find SoBe-style "mango/jalapeño/flourless chocolate piña colada" sushi rolls here. And the restaurant's setting in a low-rent mall could not be less trendy. But when a Japanese restaurant is packed nightly with Asian diners and regulars -- and one of the regulars happens to be the chef at one of Manhattan's most critically acclaimed spots for kaiseki (elaborate ceremonial tasting dinners, the ultimate in Japanese culinary arts) -- you know you're on to something special. Instead of going in the direction of unorthodox cuisine, Matsuri offers numerous sophisticated traditional Japanese delicacies rarely found in the U.S. -- except on Matsuri's specials board in the front of the room: ankimo monkfish liver, often likened to foie gras; nama uni, sparkling-fresh sea urchin that tastes like the most delicate of custards; shisamo, succulent salt-broiled freshwater smelts stuffed with their own caviar; negitoro wasabi topped with a tiny quail egg, sort of a tuna take on traditional steak tartare. What's also always offered is toro, something often seen on other Miami menus but seldom actually available -- and the price here for buttery belly tuna sashimi or sushi is about one-third what you'd pay at more high-profile spots.
Readers Choice: Benihana
Despite its being located in the former and famed Warsaw nightclub, you don't have to arrive in a limo to gain entrance to Jerry's. And while you waltz in, valets will somehow find a place to park your beat-up Honda Civic, even at 2:00 a.m. on weekend nights (when there are no such places) for five bucks, which entitles you to two and a half hours in Jerry's. Which you will need, even if you order just a sandwich. Yeah, we've heard the beefing about Jerry's high prices, but you know what? Jerry's sandwiches are the size of two normal sandwiches (three normal sandwiches if you order the #10 triple-decker with roast turkey, Swiss cheese, pastrami, and Russian dressing). Other good eats: intensely poultry-rich chicken soup with matzo balls, cold beet borscht, hearty sweet/sour cabbage/tomato soup with short ribs, shredded crispy onion rings, foamy-headed chocolate creams. Also lox, onions, and soft-scrambled eggs, a breakfast dish that, like all breakfast items, is more satisfying when ending a day at 3:00 a.m. than beginning one at 7:00.
Readers Choice: Dennys
Black-truffle-stuffed tubes of foie gras, $58 bottles of aged balsamic vinegar, tiny round tins of salty black fish eggs -- these are pleasant things to consider, especially if you're sitting at a marble counter, nibbling a delicious smoked-salmon-and-cream-cheese sandwich and contemplating the department stores around you as they employ entirely new adjectives to describe pants. This is something you should do if you find yourself caught in mall land, feeling a bit light-headed and susceptible to the marketing onslaught. Find the Caviar & More kiosk. Order one of the array of small sandwiches served on French rolls, such as the aforementioned salmon for $2.29, a cheese manchego for $1.92, or even the foie gras sandwich for $12. There is also a caviar menu, with one- or two-ounce portions served with toast points, maybe a little crème fraîche. The caviar runs from a modest $6.50 an ounce for salmon roe to top-of-the-line Beluga (here the Huso Huso, a "smooth and pearly" Russian caviar that costs $71 an ounce if you eat it at the counter).
Yuca, plantain, papaya, all the subtropical specialties you could want: Frutería Los Girasoles is a way for Miami residents to partake of Homestead's bounty of fresh produce without having to make the drive (or at least not the entire drive). Produce prices stand out, but shoppers can also choose from an array of citrus marinades, tamarind candy, chilies of all shapes and sizes -- dried and fresh -- or knickknacks like the sculpture of a sombrero-clad stereotype napping under a cactus. The store is still pretty far south on Krome Avenue, but the selection and prices are worth the effort (and besides, it's scenic). On a recent weekend plum tomatoes went for a dollar per pound, a dozen ears of corn cost three dollars, and patrons swamped the orange stand, bagging dozens at the six-for-a-buck price.
The festively decorated Paquito's, its rooms festooned with a combination of folksy and kitschy decorations, dishes up genuine Mexican cooking the likes of which you'd find in a good fonda south of the border. Traditional fare ranges from a sopa de tortilla, sopes (small round cornmeal discs topped with refried beans and shredded cheese, served as starters), the classic chocolately rich mole poblano with chicken, tamales, and a real stick-to-your-ribs, homestyle dish, chilaquiles (pieces of tortillas soaked in sauce, topped with chicken and cheese). Margaritas are good but beer is a better accompaniment to food, and Paquito's carries a number of brands, among them the amber Pacifico as well as darker brews Negra Modelo and Bohemia. Desserts include standard Latin sweets like flan but also include crepas de cajeta -- cajeta is apparently an obscenity in certain South American quarters, but in Mexico it means dulce de leche de cabra (goat).
Readers Choice: Dos Amigas
With about a dozen specialty beers on tap (plus seasonal selections) and another half-dozen or so microbrews in bottle, Titanic may not have the biggest selection, but there's no arguing that this brewery and restaurant has the most flavorful, carefully crafted beer in town. Brewmaster Jamie Ray whips up at least half of the daily draught offerings, including the evocatively named Boiler Room Nut Brown Ale and Triple Screw light ale, and he keeps receiving national awards for them at competitions where the judges, for the record, never spit. Then there are all the beer-related events -- live blues-and-brews, Mug Club specials, name-that-brewski contests, University of Miami sports nights, Brewmaster dinners, free T-shirt happy hours. The microbrew boyz here even send out an e-mail newsletter every week.
The Mazzawi family has been dishing up falafel and shish tawook (chicken gyros) to Miami residents since 1975. Grab a spinach pie and browse the market's aisles for every conceivable Middle Eastern delight, from fresh-baked pita to tahini to a wide selection of olive oils, spices, nuts, and even, um, lifestyle accessories like hookahs. Word to the wise: If you buy a hookah, make sure you purchase some pistachio baklava. You'll regret it later if you don't.
Robert Is Here, the venerable and sprawling fruit and produce stand that everyone passes on the way to Everglades National Park, is home to the finest tropical fruit and ice cream concoction you'll ever find. Just take a number (there's usually a line for the shakes) and choose from the selection of mango, papaya, guava, strawberry, banana, and whatever else the staff has on hand.
Barton G, how we love ya. For your style, certainly: You took the Starfish building, gutted it, built out the interior, and created an undeniably stunning venue, complete with orchid garden. For your way with fresh flowers and exotic animals, obviously -- don't think we've ever seen the combination of just-plucked lilies in a wall of bud vases and live giraffes at an opening before. For your sense of humor, most definitely; of course you should always serve popcorn shrimp spilling out of a movie container onto a bed of, well, popcorn. And for your commitment to your adopted town, positively, absolutely, and completely. We knew what you were after the minute we heard that you were going to add a restaurant to your empire of design and catering concepts, you party magnate, you: total adoration. You've got it. It's no more than what a workaholic, first-time restaurateur who has the confidence, ego, and guts to put his name on a marquee -- and then live up to it -- deserves.
It's been a long time since a real South Beach restaurant opened -- real meaning, of course, unreal, the sort of place that reminds one that back in SoBe's original pioneering days as a fun-in-the-sun resort, the destination beach was called Fairy-Land. Barton G is that sort of restaurant-as-theater experience, continuing the outdoor fun after the sun goes down, in an expansive, exotically planted 125-seat garden dining patio. There's no better way to show off for visitors from the frozen north than eating outside at Barton G, surrounded by palms and orchids, in the middle of winter. The food, which generally follows the "if it's worth doing it's worth overdoing" rule (instead of the usual crabcake, there's a trio of seafood cakes; the chopped salad features not one dressing but three), is as festive as the setting, much of it giving the impression of following a playful plot rather than a recipe: Popcorn shrimp is served in a movie theater popcorn container on a bed of real popcorn; the signature dessert, Big Top Cotton Candy and Over-the-Top Popcorn Surprise, invariably evokes gales of astonished laughter from first-timers as servers sweep by with the platter of purple cotton candy and chocolate truffle-centered crackerjack balls. To be honest, since many dishes are fried and/or extremely rich, the eats may not appeal to everyone. But the eating environment surely will, as will the prices -- many entrées are under $20 and only two are above $30.
Readers Choice: News Caf
The key to a great pastelito de guava is the texture. It must be soft, chewy, and flaky all at once. The guava filling must be generous, bear a dark-violet complexion, and have a thick consistency. The worst thing a baker can do to this delicacy is to overcook it. The result of that is a concrete cast with caked guava char in between. Runny, traffic-light red paste means processed preservatives, a no-no. Vendors can disappoint with this snack if it isn't done just so. Gallito's bakery has it down. They're reliably scrumptious. There isn't a pastelito in town as fluffy and moist. Get them fresh from the SW Eighth Street bakery or unwittingly enjoy them at various Miami restaurants that purchase them from Gallito.
The key to a great pastelito de guava is the texture. It must be soft, chewy, and flaky all at once. The guava filling must be generous, bear a dark-violet complexion, and have a thick consistency. The worst thing a baker can do to this delicacy is to overcook it. The result of that is a concrete cast with caked guava char in between. Runny, traffic-light red paste means processed preservatives, a no-no. Vendors can disappoint with this snack if it isn't done just so. Gallito's bakery has it down. They're reliably scrumptious. There isn't a pastelito in town as fluffy and moist. Get them fresh from the SW Eighth Street bakery or unwittingly enjoy them at various Miami restaurants that purchase them from Gallito.
Big, saucy, greasy, and cheesy, a pizza pie any other way wouldn't be baked at Casola's. The pizza place tucked between Little Havana and Coconut Grove has fattened neighborhood rugrats and late-night bar-hoppers looking for a sobering slice for 21 years. The pizza slices are huge, New York style, and come in pairs for $2.85. Most patrons don't leave full, they walk out bloated. Here, it's all about the cheese -- quality mozzarella with a playful, elastic texture, not drippy or sinewy. Ask for extra cheese and you might not find the crust. Casola's actually stems from an old Boston pizza war. Back in the Seventies, Ramon Casola and Augustine Buñuel were rivals there, but each respected the other's pie enough to open Casola's together. The hungry mouths that congregate around the open-air pizza stand help them get along fine. They have a good relationship with customers too. There's always a plate of free sample pizza squares for those waiting on an order. But watch it: Hands snap toward the complimentary servings like piranhas. If you have your hand in the wrong place you might lose it, and you'll need both of them to handle the slice you're waiting on.
Readers Choice: Casolas
The twin towers of the World Trade Center still stand under a starry sky -- on the giant mural decorating a wall at New York New York. The other walls, clad with posters of Broadway shows such as Dancin', Sugar Babies, and Les Miserables, facsimiles of New York Times front pages, photo stills from feature films, and a ticker flashing the latest news, provide reminders of the city too, as do the booths boasting names such as Broadway and Times Square. But the items on the menu at the 23-year-old eatery are really what offer South Floridians that true bite of the Big Apple. Hot dogs, plain or topped with chili. Potato knishes. Deli sandwiches, including corned beef, pastrami, roast beef, turkey, and killer chicken salad served with coleslaw and a potato pancake. A variety of hot entrées, breakfast items, and a well-stocked salad bar. Bagels, cream cheese, and the ubiquitous Dr. Brown's soda in black cherry, cream, and Cel-Ray. And a refreshing refreshment known as a lime rickey. Rice pudding, colossal apple pie (à la mode with Häagen-Dazs ice cream, if you like), a decadent dense creation dubbed chocolate beast cake, and of course creamy cheesecake bursting with the kind of calories that could only be walked off in a major city. It's food so fine we had to start spreading the news.
Whether you're looking to satisfy your craving for vegan fare or for soups that extend beyond the chicken-noodle and clam-chowder variety, Whole Foods Market is the place to go. Besides interesting items such as Mediterranean beef stew and spinach orzo soup, it features an expansive array of prepared vegetable dishes, from tofu pad thai to raspberry tofu diablo to a delightfully tangy eggplant à la napolitiana (red peppers drenched in olive oil and vinegar stuffed into an eggplant). Or if you're into down-home cookin', the market offers healthy portions of piping-hot meat loaf, barbecued and fried chicken, sweet corn, stuffing, steamed vegetables, and lots of other hot foods.
The River offers a taste of the ocean from the four corners of the Western oyster world. This bar/restaurant serves the cool freshly cracked ones from the coasts of Washington, Oregon, California, Prince Edward Island, New England, and the Florida Panhandle. A tasty flourish comes with the choice of jalapeño relish, Asian mignonette, and the traditional horseradish with cocktail sauce. Most oysters are $19/dozen; the Apalachicolas (from Florida's Gulf waters) run $10/dozen. They're all half-price during happy hour, 4:30 to 7:00 p.m. Monday through Friday. During the week the place (located in the Fishbone Grille's old space) is open for lunch and dinner (kitchen closes at about 10:30 p.m.). On Saturday hours are 6:00 to 11:00 p.m. or so. The joint is closed on Sundays, so if you're jonesing for oysters after church, you'll have to hit Shuckers or Smith & Wollensky.
Power lunch no longer implies Eighties-style business suits meeting over plates of ostrich carpaccio served in white-linen restaurants where the valets earn more than your secretary. If we've learned anything from the dot.com era, it's that sometimes the sweetest deals are scripted in duds that have seen less holey days and sealed not by a slash of the Cross fountain pen but by the clink of two pint glasses topped off with a mousse of India Pale Ale. At Gordon Biersch, one of the only downtown venues to regularly draw the workaday crowd, you can actually find both kinds of players: the stuffed shirt and the beer belly, lunching on pizzas and gourmet salads and fresh-brewed suds. Rest assured they have two things in common -- something on the table and something in the works.
We're not exactly sure why, but most people prefer to be romantic in the dark. If that's true for you, then Magnum, owned by Jeffrey's proprietors Jeffrey Landsman and Kurt Schmidt (Jeffrey's has been a perennial winner of this award), is shadowy enough for smooching, shady enough for liaisons of the deliciously illicit kind. Not only is the room dimly lighted in an alluring way, a throaty jazz singer and a back-door entrance off a rather deserted alleyway suggest something concealed, something that says speakeasy, something that whispers romance.
BEST RESTAURANT FOR INTIMATE CONVERSATION
Perricones Marketplace & Caf
There's nothing more romantic than a picnic, right? A blanket spread in a secluded seaside nook or beneath a flowering tree. A column of red ants marching across your blanket. Sand flying into your plastic wine glass. And those damn flowers falling into your tuna fish salad. Maybe a picnic's not so romantic after all. You want the greenery, the seclusion, the quiet without all the dirt and pests. And, let's face it, you want a repast that's a little more seductive than what you can cram into a Tupperware tub. So call Perricone's and make a reservation for one of the tables on the back patio. If you really want to get intimate, ask for the wicker chairs beneath the trellis. No one will see you but the waiter when he brings you delectable dishes -- on real dishes. When he's gone, all you'll hear is the whir of the ceiling fans and the sighs of your beloved.
BEST RESTAURANT WHEN SOMEONE ELSE IS PAYINGWhen it comes to subjects of fine-dining debates, La Broche has been a veritable gastronomic epicenter. Just voicing the name of this controversial restaurant is enough to launch earthquakes of opinions, accompanied by tidal waves of whetted appetites and burning fires of curiosity. Indeed the fare that executive chef Angel Palacios prepares at this offshoot of the two-Michelin-star original in Spain can be called nothing less than incredibly avant-garde, highlighted by an array of foams, gelatins, and interesting if not always appetizing parts of animals. When all is said and done -- or eaten, rather -- La Broche isn't any more expensive than the usual prime suspects around town. But when it comes right down to the pork turbot in pea sauce garnished with sea urchin and "empanadas" of trout egg or basil-gelatin lollipops encasing tomatoes and watermelon, which you may or may not find truly exhilarating, you just might be relieved by the saving grace: "At least I didn't have to pay for it."
With a menu of a size that befits its name, Big Pink should be able to satisfy the whims of the most finicky of progeny. Its diner-inspired creations come in gargantuan portions, so you can a) throw junior some scraps off your own plate, b) spare yourself a night's cooking by taking home a doggie bag, or c) order one of the kids' sized options. You may be able to expand their culinary horizons, at least as far as fries are concerned, with Big Pink's scrumptious sweet potato version or the crisp-on-the-outside/creamy-on-the-inside polenta sticks. And you don't have to dress up to do so. Big Pink is supremely casual, and no one will mind if you and the gang troop in wearing flip-flops and bathing suit coverups.
It could be that the noise level is deliberate, a reflection of the urban name, or accidental, a result of the former Astor Place's mod-Italian renovation. But while there may be quibbling about the motive, there's no question over the decibel level -- it's about as high as the two-story ceiling allows. That said -- or shouted -- Metro possesses a great buzz. Like that created by a horde of honeybees feeding on the pollen of flowers that have been grown on a nuclear-waste dumping ground. But a buzz, nevertheless. And on South Beach, louder is always better.
Along with Michelle Bernstein, Willis Loughhead headed South Florida's "hottest rising young chef" list for years -- enough years that a new name for the list (say, "hottest aging young chefs") seemed imminent. Quick moves from a brief stint at Tantra through her own venue at South Beach's Strand to Azul at the Mandarin Oriental finally vaulted Bernstein from "rising" to "respectable." But Loughhead, her Tantra successor, gamely stuck it out there, cooking serious food in a silly venue, for three years. When the new Ritz-Carlton Coconut Grove opened this past September, however, its flagship Bizcaya Grill offered Loughhead a chance to get seriously serious. Ritz decorum, as well as supervision by dining-operations chief Roberto Holz from Germany, means that Loughhead's creative impulse is somewhat trimmed here. But the overall result is most interesting. Menu items like an heirloom-tomato salad with fig carpaccio reflect Loughhead's New American passion for locally produced, seasonal ingredients. Sautéed foie gras with Doktorenhof vinegar showcases Holz's classy Old World influence; and a "simply grilled" list enables diners to indulge their own creative impulses by pairing premium-quality meats or fish with a choice of imaginative sauces (lobster basil Hollandaise, Barolo wine/foie gras butter, saffron aioli, many more). An elegant outdoor courtyard and an indoor dining room accented by muted music also make Bizcaya a best bet for a business lunch or dinner.
Readers Choice: Caf Tu Tu Tango
It's not surprising that Norman's remains the Gables's best restaurant. Quite frankly Norman's could give the best restaurants in New York, San Francisco, or Paris a run for their money. What's surprising is that there are still Miamians who haven't been to Norman Van Aken's mega-award-winning, elegant yet friendly place. Sure, it's expensive. But so are many other Miami restaurants that are just upscale meals. Norman's is a once-in-a-lifetime experience -- or would be if it weren't for the fact that no one who's been once can resist going back again and again, to revisit favorite classic dishes such as yuca-stuffed crispy shrimp with sour orange mojo, a zingy 21st-century take on traditional Cuban roast pork, or The Ultimate conch chowder (saffron/citrus-tinged, creamy-smooth, and topped with a rich foam "cloud"), as well as to taste-test the myriad of astonishing new surprises Van Aken always, like a world-class magician, has up his sleeve. Recent new inventions include Brazilian-influenced black-eyed pea acarajé fritters stuffed with blue crab; a "New World" duck duo (mango barbecued duck in a green chili crêpe, plus slices of wood oven-roasted rare duck breast with a cumin/scallion sour crema); and a remarkably innovative sushi trio (think crisp West Coast kumamoto oyster in piquant unagi dressing with Asian shoots, or tuna tartare with quail egg) whose only flaw is that there are only three rather than thirty per serving. Hungry yet? Don't mind us. Go eat. See ya next year, Norman, same time, same BOM category.
Readers Choice: Normans
Happy "tin" anniversary! Yup, it's been ten years that PT has been in business, which means that a decade has gone by since we first awarded this outstanding Pacific Rim restaurant in our annual issue. Indeed, to our knowledge, not a single year has gone by without chef-owner Jonathan Eismann, who helped revolutionize Lincoln Road dining, being mentioned in some capacity -- whether for Pacific Time or another venture of his (Pacific Heights, PT Café, Westside Diner). But while the traditional gift for hanging in thus far is something made out of tin or aluminum -- the Happy-Anniversary.com Website suggests tin lanterns from Mexico, fireplace accessories, or woks (we're not joking, though we suspect they are) -- Pacific Time will have to settle, at least in theory, for paper.
Readers Choice: Joes Stone Crab
It always was easy to overlook this hole-in-the-wall eatery, located in a nondescript minimall on NE 167th Street, so possibly you've driven by a dozen times in the last few months without noticing it's gone. But the next time you're in the mood for authentic Chinese food, you will not be able to find any because May Wong's one-woman operation was virtually the only place in the county, save a couple of good dim sum joints, where you could find actual Chinese Chinese food -- not Americanized stuff but rather the dishes only found, outside of China, in sophisticated urban Asian outposts like San Francisco and Vancouver. Delicate sautéed pea sprouts with crab, dry-style or wet (sauced) fresh ho fan noodles, comforting porridge-like ginger-spiked shrimp and mushroom congee, addictive whole salty pepper shrimp (with the heads left on for maximum flavor) on a bed of crunchy-battered Chinese broccoli. You can't continue the list without wanting to run right out and -- but there's no place to run. And don't bother grilling the nice guys from the Thai restaurant that's replaced Macau about a possible new location. We've tried and they don't know. If you're reading this, May, come back! Miami needs you!
The SSC has carried out a number of successful lunchtime sandwich deployments since completing its Design District buildup in late 2002. The Bay of Pig, one of the most effective items in its arsenal, contains the following judiciously selected ordnance: roasted and seared pork loin with grilled onion and mojo marinade, all packed into a baguette. But given the disastrous and deadly April 1961 invasion of Cuba for which it is named, do customers find it tasteless? Co-owner Cesar Canton, whose family carries bona fide anti-Fidel credentials, serves up an anecdote on wry: "A woman recently called up and ordered one for delivery. She goes: 'And could you send it with some air cover this time?'"
Lyon-born Olivier Farrat and partners were South Beach pioneers when they set up this simple, open-air shop back in 1988. Among the first eateries to assuage the hunger pangs of late-night clubbers, La Sanwicherie now is open practically 'round the clock, from 8:30 a.m. to 5:00 a.m. (sometimes as late as 6:00 a.m.). The casual atmosphere -- an extended counter with stools along an alley and across the street from the Deuce -- belies the freshness and quality of the ingredients. Choices are simple: crusty French bread or a croissant and fillings such as roast beef, tuna, ham, turkey (the best seller), cheeses, prosciutto, or smoked salmon. But we say thumb your nose at those who would have us eat freedom fries and try one of the classically French options like pâté, saucisson sec (French salami), or Camembert cheese (combine the last two and you have Farrat's personal fave). Other Gallic touches include tiny cornichon pickles and perfectly executed mustard vinaigrette. There's usually a midday and late-night (2:00 a.m.) rush, but the staff operates like a well-oiled machine, assembling orders lickety-split.
Not many of us think about checking out a Mexican restaurant when we feel like tucking into a stuffed crab-back and sucking the heads of prawns. Perhaps, being stone crab claw- and Key West pink shrimp-centric, we haven't had the exposure necessary to inspire such appetites. Or maybe, being offered mostly central Mexican cuisine here in South Florida, we simply haven't had opportunity enough to appreciate the fact that Mexico has a cuisine deriving from a couple of thousand miles of coastline -- and that's just on the Pacific side, where the town of Puerto Vallarta is located. Fortunately our education is at hand via El Puerto de Vallarta, and we're not just talking about the three R's of fish tacos, but the ABC's as well: avocado-garnished shrimp and snapper ceviche with pico de gallo; botana (appetizers) including shrimp quesadillas and oysters on the half-shell; and seafood caldos (soups) such as the piquant mariscos siete mares, a luxurious combination of seven different types of shellfish served with homemade corn tortillas. Finish off your secondary schooling with bacon-wrapped shrimp or garlic-sautéed lobster and a cool Tecate beer, and you'll be set to graduate with culinary horizons appropriately expanded.
Readers Choice: Joes Stone Crab
The space looks so funky, the crowd so cool, the music just right -- please don't bring the mango salad long before a lone bottle of beer, and have those be the only two "dishes" in front of your group for the next hour! Alas, that was the way it was. No amount of cajoling or directing could bring any rhyme or reason to the order of appetizers, main dishes, drinks, or God forbid water that arrived at the table. Welcome the new Tap Tap! Same funky Haitian art, same cool crowd, but new management that understands the golden word: service! Is it too cold for you in the back room? Zoom, up to the front. The jerk is particularly good today, says the waitress, but are your mojitos sweet enough? Finished with your coconut spinach appetizer? Then I'll bring your main dishes. Jaw dropping, you wonder if it's drugs, or whether you may have been mistaken for someone powerful. But then hospitality surfaces again, and not just for you. After stuffing yourself to the limit, there's still griot left on the plate. No need to waste it. Take it home. Okay, says your waitress, but remember, that means less to eat for the dumpster dog.
This place has been around at least 48 years -- manager Dan Nudge thinks maybe 50 -- way the hell back in the woods and gone without a proper address. It used to be a bait shop on Biscayne Bay just north of the MacArthur Causeway, but was bounced when the Miami Herald built its waterfront eyesore. It still is a bait shop, but there's a whole lot more going on. Owner Jim Luznar likes the scruffy, backwoodsy feel of the site, despite the nearby sewage plant. Now there are palm trees and a gravel drive instead of the muddy path that used to lead up to Jimbo's shack. It's still authentically funky, though. Attracts folks like Bob Dylan when he's around. He'll slouch in for Jimbo's smoked Costa Rican marlin or salmon at eight bucks a pound, and chug down some Natural Ice or Budweiser beer. Nudge explained that the wonderful taste of the fish owes to the smoking process: "Yeah, ya put it in a blind for the night, salted down and sugared and watered, right out back. It's the weather gives us the taste. Yuh cain't man-u-facture that."
One word: atmosphere. Rumble your way to the counter for a jugo. Feel the ice-cold, fresh-fruit flavor -- papaya, cantaloupe, piña colada, orange-carrot, guanabana -- roll down your throat. But then take a look at your mixers -- the rice and beans, roasted half-chickens, and flans -- and head to the back to enjoy it all. Yeah, you'll likely consume some exhaust fumes with your ice-cold strawberry juice and tamale, but the light Cuban music and chatter will calm your soul and soothe your taste buds.
Just utter the words "La Broche" and you may find yourself embroiled in controversy. Controversy is La Broche's -- and its cutting-edge Spanish chef Angel Palacios's -- middle name. In fact debate has raged within these very pages about said avant-garde Spanish cuisine and its ingredients. But hey, creativity often stirs controversy, and this offshoot of the famous Madrid mothership is nothing if not creative. You definitely will want to try the Spaniard's signature "foam," used to top many a dish (raspberry foam on cauliflower soup, anyone?). But there's more to La Broche than foam. There are, for example, duck livers and rockfish, confits of lamb and codfish, sweet-potato cappuccino with ginger and coconut, turbot fillet with pork trotters. This is, for Miami, something very fresh and exciting. It is also expensive. But sometimes you have to pay for the best.
Readers Choice: Casa Juancho
This is for sure a men-in-suits from an around-the-way Brickell firm kinda place. But the Capital Grille is also known for classic steak-house cuisine amid relaxed elegance, raising steaks to a level of excellence. In state-of-the-art meat lockers, short loins of beef are naturally dry-aged for fourteen days in a temperature- and humidity-controlled environment. Steaks are hand-cut daily, well seasoned, and grilled to desired temperature. The result is an extraordinarily flavorful and tender steak you'll probably need help finishing.
This upscale seafood restaurant, now guided by Arturo Paz (former chef Robbin Haas is said to be readying his own place in the Gables), wows diners each week with its sumptuous spread. Be prepared for the killer price tag of $36 per person. If you can snag a table on the elegant outdoor terrace with its magnificent view, however, the sting of the sticker price will be soothed by cooling breezes of the bay. Great option for a special treat, out-of-towners, or when someone else is paying. Reservations highly recommended.
Hang out in Tokyo after working hours and you're likely to see hordes of men in suits, knocking back shots of sake or bottles of beer and feasting on sushi and yakitori at loud tavern-style eateries known as izakayas. Hang out in Coral Gables at the almost-hidden Japanese restaurant Su-Shin Izakaya and you're likely to behold the same sight. Of course those businessmen have wandered in from the hotel across the street, yet they seem right at home. What contributes to that feeling? The artfully wrapped rolls filled with the freshest slices of fish such as tuna, salmon, or yellowtail; daily specials such as maguro youke (lean chopped tuna topped with shiso leaves and served in a frosted glass bowl); and the most delicate sashimi. Makes you want to raise your glass and say "kampai!" too.
Tacos are simple concoctions, usually containing only three or four ingredients, so the little things -- a sprinkle of fresh cilantro, a squirt of lime juice -- can make a big difference. At Casita Tejas the difference is the meat. The chicken, ground beef, and pork tacos ($6.50 for any combination of three with rice and beans) all have well-marinated, good-quality meat, and the chefs at Casita Tejas take care not to overcook. But the steak tacos ($7.50 for three with rice and beans) are the reason to eat at Casita Tejas. Perfectly cooked flank steak slices -- not the dried-out shards of meat you find at so many taco stands and restaurants -- are marinated for twelve hours, though Casita Tejas manager Veronica Corona won't divulge the ingredients in the secret marinade. The restaurant has been a staple on Krome Avenue for fifteen years. The sunny interior looks out, via wall-length windows, onto Homestead's main drag (for what it's worth). Corona isn't troubled by the view across a parking lot at rival restaurant El Toro Taco (the 2002 New Times Best Taco winner). "We've been here so long," she shrugs, "people know us and we're constantly busy."
At some point several years ago, tapas acquired cachet, the kind of overpriced yuppie fodder that turns up on menus where it has no business. Los Gallegos, serving its namesake Spanish cuisine from a cozy Bird Road location for more than a decade, has seen that trend come and go, but it keeps supplying excellent, fairly priced food in an unpretentious setting. The restaurant has the feel of a family joint, right down to the checkered tablecloths and friendly service, and prices for the tapas dishes (between four and ten dollars) are just as congenial. Of particular note: chorizo served sizzling in a hot skillet, and airy croquetas bacalao.
So a serious lack of funds, not to mention a rather scary war and that strange respiratory outbreak across the world, have prevented you from making it to Thailand this year. We're not crying for you. We have our own little piece of Thailand right here. We sit peacefully among the orchids listening to the tranquil gurgling of a waterfall. We munch on curry puffs and crispy noodles and jumping shrimp. And if we're feeling pyromaniacal, we order the satay and cook our beef or chicken over the flame of a tiny hibachi. Then we load up on signature dishes like the Star of Siam (breaded, marinated chicken cooked with chili sauce and mixed veggies) or the massaman curry, tender meat or seafood accompanied by cashew nuts, plus chunks of avocado and onion in a curry/coconut milk sauce. We satisfy the noodle jones with the always-comforting pad thai. Each day we return for lunch and dinner, and lunch and dinner, and lunch and dinner again. No wonder we can't afford to travel!
Readers Choice: Bangkok Bangkok
BEST VEGGIE JAMAICAN LUNCH COUNTER
Kings Hi-Way Natural Food & Juice Take-Out Restaurant
Sit down at the counter and take a load off, brothers and sisters. Slow your heart rate with mellow reggae, fruit juice, and a salad. Emperor Haile Selassie stares down at you from the walls, regal and peaceful. Gentle philosophy is mixed into the smoothies. "It's the right way to live," claims the Rastafarian behind the counter. "I might die of pollution or an accident, but never from eating wrong."
Dining, technically speaking, refers to the evening repast. Scotty's is best enjoyed mid-to-late afternoon, when the lunch crush is over. Take refuge from the sun under the green-and-white canopy. Order up a bucket of ice-cold beers to accompany a dolphin sandwich or a burger (the menu is blissfully straightforward and unrefined), and soak up the view of the marina, bay, and Key Biscayne in a relaxed, unpretentious atmosphere.
It depends on who you ask, what's in stock, or how well you count. But the list at Graziano's, a fab Argentine steak house that is lined with wine racks, runs between 450 and 600 bottles. That's a lotta grape juice, sugar, and much of it is tasty South American stuff -- Argentine Malbec, Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon, and so on -- that goes oh-so-well with the beef roasting on the asador. In the mood to really spend? Graziano's stocks Italian wines even the collectors wish they had in their cellars. In fact take a look around, 'cause you're probably sitting next to someone who knows what wine is all about. Just make sure you ask the waiter how much your neighbor's vintage might cost before you splurge on the urge to follow suit.
Readers Choice: The Forge
Smitty's has been scrambling eggs since 1941. Sit on one of the 22 spinning stools at the horseshoe-shaped counter and watch the waitresses pour steaming cups of coffee as you find yourself eavesdropping on conversations all around you. The city is waking up, ready for another hot, brutish day in paradise. Revel in the humanity at Smitty's, among the cops, construction workers, and shirt-and-tie guys who are all in it with you. The waitresses, of course, know your name. What more could you ask? How about two eggs, two pancakes, and three strips of bacon for $2.99 (on special). They've also got omelets, waffles, grits, and biscuits-and-gravy dishes that'll run you four to five bucks. Open weekdays 6:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. and Saturdays 7:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m.
Smitty's has been scrambling eggs since 1941. Sit on one of the 22 spinning stools at the horseshoe-shaped counter and watch the waitresses pour steaming cups of coffee as you find yourself eavesdropping on conversations all around you. The city is waking up, ready for another hot, brutish day in paradise. Revel in the humanity at Smitty's, among the cops, construction workers, and shirt-and-tie guys who are all in it with you. The waitresses, of course, know your name. What more could you ask? How about two eggs, two pancakes, and three strips of bacon for $2.99 (on special). They've also got omelets, waffles, grits, and biscuits-and-gravy dishes that'll run you four to five bucks. Open weekdays 6:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. and Saturdays 7:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m.
Some might think Gordon Biersch is a contradiction in terms: a national chain of microbrew pubs. After all, a good microbrewery by definition is local and individualistic. Yet each Gordon Biersch pub, be it the latest in Miami or the first in Palo Alto, concocts its own beer. That's worthy of note. G-B's brew is delightfully fresh-made from Hallertauer hops, two row barley, and a special yeast strain imported directly from Germany. Generally Gordon Biersch has at least three staple beers on tap and two additional ones that are seasonal. We recommend the Golden Export, which is almost always available. Lightly hopped but surprisingly full-bodied, this beer is perfect for hot summer days. If you don't like drinking on an empty stomach, the food here is tasty. The décor is full of wood and leather, dark and spacious to create an atmosphere of comfortable elegance. There are even metal tables outside so you can enjoy a bottoms-up view of Brickell Avenue.
A perennial favorite in the dim sum category, Tropical -- surprise -- also serves a great din-din. Traditional dishes include Hong Kong-style roast pork flavored with five-spice and then roasted; seafood-spinach soup; and always crisp, always succulent Peking duck. But innovative items are equally reliable, if unusual -- flounder pan-fried with peppercorns and jalapeños and served with bananas marinated in rice wine, for example, offers interesting counterpoints of textures, as does cherry-plum chicken wrapped with diced water chestnuts and fresh bamboo in egg-white crêpes. A healthy wine list replete with floral Rieslings adds to the fine-dining effect, giving aficionados of all kinds reason to make Tropical an evening as well as morning destination.
Big, saucy, greasy, and cheesy, a pizza pie any other way wouldn't be baked at Casola's. The pizza place tucked between Little Havana and Coconut Grove has fattened neighborhood rugrats and late-night bar-hoppers looking for a sobering slice for 21 years. The pizza slices are huge, New York style, and come in pairs for $2.85. Most patrons don't leave full, they walk out bloated. Here, it's all about the cheese -- quality mozzarella with a playful, elastic texture, not drippy or sinewy. Ask for extra cheese and you might not find the crust. Casola's actually stems from an old Boston pizza war. Back in the Seventies, Ramon Casola and Augustine Buñuel were rivals there, but each respected the other's pie enough to open Casola's together. The hungry mouths that congregate around the open-air pizza stand help them get along fine. They have a good relationship with customers too. There's always a plate of free sample pizza squares for those waiting on an order. But watch it: Hands snap toward the complimentary servings like piranhas. If you have your hand in the wrong place you might lose it, and you'll need both of them to handle the slice you're waiting on.
Readers Choice: Casolas
Lyon-born Olivier Farrat and partners were South Beach pioneers when they set up this simple, open-air shop back in 1988. Among the first eateries to assuage the hunger pangs of late-night clubbers, La Sanwicherie now is open practically 'round the clock, from 8:30 a.m. to 5:00 a.m. (sometimes as late as 6:00 a.m.). The casual atmosphere -- an extended counter with stools along an alley and across the street from the Deuce -- belies the freshness and quality of the ingredients. Choices are simple: crusty French bread or a croissant and fillings such as roast beef, tuna, ham, turkey (the best seller), cheeses, prosciutto, or smoked salmon. But we say thumb your nose at those who would have us eat freedom fries and try one of the classically French options like pâté, saucisson sec (French salami), or Camembert cheese (combine the last two and you have Farrat's personal fave). Other Gallic touches include tiny cornichon pickles and perfectly executed mustard vinaigrette. There's usually a midday and late-night (2:00 a.m.) rush, but the staff operates like a well-oiled machine, assembling orders lickety-split.
Dining, technically speaking, refers to the evening repast. Scotty's is best enjoyed mid-to-late afternoon, when the lunch crush is over. Take refuge from the sun under the green-and-white canopy. Order up a bucket of ice-cold beers to accompany a dolphin sandwich or a burger (the menu is blissfully straightforward and unrefined), and soak up the view of the marina, bay, and Key Biscayne in a relaxed, unpretentious atmosphere.
By the time you read this, Captain Dan and Chef Reddy expect to have reopened their shop, formerly next to Café del Mar, up the road apiece in bigger digs. The friendly Chef Reddy, who previously won our hearts and tummies when he sent us home with some melt-in-your-mouth tuna and a recipe (which we prepared with coarse salt he had smoked in-house), promises a bigger selection overall. Recognizing that many folks just don't have the time to cook, he's gearing up to offer an expanded variety of ready-to-cook dishes as well as prepared foods such as salmon pastrami, ceviches, clam chowders, shrimp cocktail with mango-citrus sauce, and other delights of the sea. He's still frying up traditional fish-and-chips, which he'd begun to serve at the teeny old place, as well as other fare that can be consumed on-site.
It's been a long time since a real South Beach restaurant opened -- real meaning, of course, unreal, the sort of place that reminds one that back in SoBe's original pioneering days as a fun-in-the-sun resort, the destination beach was called Fairy-Land. Barton G is that sort of restaurant-as-theater experience, continuing the outdoor fun after the sun goes down, in an expansive, exotically planted 125-seat garden dining patio. There's no better way to show off for visitors from the frozen north than eating outside at Barton G, surrounded by palms and orchids, in the middle of winter. The food, which generally follows the "if it's worth doing it's worth overdoing" rule (instead of the usual crabcake, there's a trio of seafood cakes; the chopped salad features not one dressing but three), is as festive as the setting, much of it giving the impression of following a playful plot rather than a recipe: Popcorn shrimp is served in a movie theater popcorn container on a bed of real popcorn; the signature dessert, Big Top Cotton Candy and Over-the-Top Popcorn Surprise, invariably evokes gales of astonished laughter from first-timers as servers sweep by with the platter of purple cotton candy and chocolate truffle-centered crackerjack balls. To be honest, since many dishes are fried and/or extremely rich, the eats may not appeal to everyone. But the eating environment surely will, as will the prices -- many entrées are under $20 and only two are above $30.
Readers Choice: News Caf
Ideally the best source for quality natural foods and health-related products would be a local operation, not a national chain. Unfortunately most independents offer little more than a small selection of tired produce and prepared foods that look healthy but not like anything you'd actually want to eat. National giant Whole Foods carries a big selection of the best. Produce sparkles, the section including not just the expected mesclun mixes but gourmet greens as well: frisée, ruby chard, various colored kales. There's a sizable selection of fresh fish, including Florida lobsters in season (at a decent price) and sushi-grade tuna and salmon that is truly trustworthy. The meat counter carries beef cuts that are not just free of antibiotics for good health but nicely marbled for good taste. Sometimes, if you're quick enough, you'll find top-rated Eberly free-range poultry. Prepared foods are plentiful and delicious. The wine selection is thoughtful, with many unusual choices and helpful descriptive cards to eliminate the intimidation factor. Lots of ethnic food. Lots of vitamins and chem/cruelty-free cosmetics. And most crucial in a health-food store, chocolate from El Rey, a Venezuelan producer of single-source chocolate that arguably is the world's best-tasting -- and of course chock full of those healthy antioxidants that are the real reason we eat the stuff.
Making sure both your stomach and your wallet are full: That's what the folks at Mama Jennie's, home to delicious, reasonably priced Italian comfort food, have been doing for more than 30 years. Hearty soup or crispy salad with your choice of dressing (the zesty house vinaigrette is a favorite) and garlic rolls lightly doused in flavorful oil begin your meal. Myriad main courses include whopping servings of classics such as baked ziti with meatballs; veal Parmesan; eggplant rollatini; lasagna; gnocchi; and stuffed shells, all accompanied by Mama's lively marinara sauce. Pizza boasting all sorts of tasty toppings like pepperoni, mushrooms, or meatballs is also an option. Waistline watchers need not go hungry: Not everything is piled high with cheese and sauce. Herb-grilled chicken is among the low-fat selections. Still haven't burst your buttons or busted your budget? Don't forget dessert, which greets you in the fridge strategically placed at the dining room's entrance. Goodies can range from cannolis to spumoni to cheesecake and carrot cake.
Readers Choice: Oggi Caffe
We'll put it in the simplest terms: If one wants ingredients such as black truffles, white asparagus, cipollini onions, heirloom tomatoes, artisanal cheeses, Dover sole, and boneless quail, one must dig deep into the pockets. If one desires these comestibles to be prepared in the New World by chefs who have been trained in the Old World, one must cough up the cash. If one wants to sample these dishes in a hidden-gem, secret-garden atmosphere that has as much homestyle charm as Versace's erstwhile mansion, one must forfeit the bucks. But for those who can't wash dishes in case of emergency, don't worry -- there's a Citibank ATM right across the street.
Readers Choice: Café Abbracci
This Liberty City diner has been frying up its tasty delights for 40-plus years and nary a thing looks like it has changed since its inception, from the neon lights and the yellowing signs highlighting menu items to the always reliable food. The smell of grease hangs heavily in the air, and will unfortunately stay with you long after you depart. Never mind. Dive right in and leave any waistline concerns at the door. Feast with abandon on piles of chicken or shrimp, or both via one of the bounteous combo platters. Sides like black-eyed peas and collard greens serve as savory reminders that Florida has always been a Southern state. The less-than-elegant address shouldn't dissuade gourmands. It's about five minutes from I-95, and at night the lights in the parking lot are blindingly bright.
Tacos for breakfast? Sure! Lunch? Yes! Dinner? Absolutely! Heck, tacos and all manner of authentic Mexican eats can be had any time of the day at Roberto's in the heart of Hialeah. This 4-year-old offshoot of the 33-year-old San Diego-based chain that counts more than 50 outlets nationwide (including Cutler Ridge, Kendall, and another in Hialeah) is open 24/7. For those who simply cannot contemplate another trip to Taco Bell, Roberto's offers made-to-order tostadas, enchiladas, chimichangas, quesadillas, burritos, tortas, and tacos. Not to mention a choice of ten inexpensive (most cost around $4.95) and enormous combination plates served with rice and refried beans. Sides include chips and cheese and silky guacamole. Frosty Mexican beverages such as cinnamon-almond-rice blend horchata, tamarind nectar, and hibiscus-flower derivative jamaica are the perfect thirst-quenchers. Oh, about that breakfast: A variety of breakfast burritos and combo plates that feature rice, tortillas, and beans make for a tasty and filling first meal.
With a menu of a size that befits its name, Big Pink should be able to satisfy the whims of the most finicky of progeny. Its diner-inspired creations come in gargantuan portions, so you can a) throw junior some scraps off your own plate, b) spare yourself a night's cooking by taking home a doggie bag, or c) order one of the kids' sized options. You may be able to expand their culinary horizons, at least as far as fries are concerned, with Big Pink's scrumptious sweet potato version or the crisp-on-the-outside/creamy-on-the-inside polenta sticks. And you don't have to dress up to do so. Big Pink is supremely casual, and no one will mind if you and the gang troop in wearing flip-flops and bathing suit coverups.
Hangout of Homestead regulars and racing fans alike, Shiver's has been operating for most of the last 50-odd years (they took some time out for natural disasters like Hurricane Andrew). It's a typical barbecue joint in that it's shack-shaped and filled with long wooden tables and benches. There are the obligatory old-timey doodads tacked to the walls -- lanterns, horseshoes, cattle horns. One entire wall is covered in a mural depicting a pastoral antebellum landscape that exists nowhere in Florida. In the kitchen you'll find barbecued chicken, beef, and pork, farm-raised catfish, hush puppies, beans, fried okra, even key lime pie and peach cobbler. Most everything is well turned out considering the reasonable prices, with all but the high-dollar meals (like a fifteen-dollar slab of baby-back ribs) falling between four and eight dollars. A five-dollar pork sandwich consists of tender, thin-sliced, smoked pork piled on a bun, with crinkley fries and a side of cole slaw. The warm, peppery barbecue sauce is also on the side. The place is open seven days a week 11:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m.
It's always open (24-7); it has a solid bar (with a separate entrance); it's got a no-nonsense load of records that management plays relentlessly -- "I Fought the Law" by the Bobby Fuller Four; "Crazy Arms" by Jerry Lee Lewis; "Secret Agent Man" by Johnny Rivers -- wonderfully appropriate for these times. Then there's the real diner food -- pork chops with barbecue sauce, mashed potatoes with brown gravy, green peas, Coke with lemon, all for $12.50. Plus there's the enigmatically beautiful crew: Christine, the statuesque blond waitress; Eloise, the even taller, elegant waitress; Ricky, the little dancer type, Andy, the owner ... And interesting people traffic with informed conversation. It's the reason the ten-year-old Eleventh Street Diner has won before.
Wake up on a Saturday morning longing for a fresh croissant and you're outta luck here. Like most shops in this predominantly Orthodox Jewish neighborhood, Brioche Dorée isn't open on Saturday, and you can't pick up your morning pastry fix on the way home from work the night before because the bakery closes, invariably cleaned out of croissants, at 3:00 p.m. weekdays. The place doesn't take credit cards either. But all the inconveniences are worth it. No bakery in Miami-Dade County makes a more melt-in-your-mouth croissant. (Which explains why La Brioche Dorée has taken this award four times previously.) In fact, though the secret is supposedly genuine French butter, which is denser than American supermarket stuff, it's hard to find a croissant even in France that beats Brioche's, so delectable briefly warmed to bring out the dairy richness that applying extra butter at table seems superfluous. Tip: Brioche bakes half-size mini-croissants that are perfect party brunch fare, but these sell out even earlier than the full-size models, so go early, especially on Sunday when the place opens at 7:00 a.m.
Décor is unassuming at this downtown lunch room -- it's basically a hole-in-the-wall, albeit a clean and cheerful one -- and most of the roughly dozen dishes served daily are steam-tabled, not made to order, which definitely puts them in the "fast food" rather than "fine food" category. Still, since most Indian food is relatively slow-cooked rather than quickly stir-fried like that of most other Asian nations, it survives the steam table well. Raja's $4.69 combination platter is among downtown's tastiest lunch options. And not merely tasty but absolutely addictive are three South Indian house specialties found neither on the steam table nor in any other Miami-Dade Indian restaurant: dosai, uttapam, and idli. These mouthwatering made-to-order savory, ground-rice pancakes, served with a choice of several stuffings and/or toppings (the rolled potato-filled masala dosa crepe and thicker, onion-packed uttapam are particularly good), plus sides of sambar (a soothing veggie-packed puréed lentil dhal) and spicy/sweet coconut chutney are well worth the ten-to-twenty minute wait.
Cane Á Sucre's version of the caesar isn't a big heaping mess of lettuce, cheese, garlic, dressing, and miscellaneous other items. It's a straightforward presentation of fresh romaine lettuce chopped into small squares, lightly topped with grated asiago cheese and tasty garlic croutons. A cup of homemade caesar dressing and a remarkably good, buttery piece of baguette arrive on the side. The result is light, simple, and tangy, with the cheese in sharp contrast to the lettuce, and that's before you add the dressing (to taste). In a world of fattening excess, Cane Á Sucre -- a charming combination café, bakery, and European sandwich shop -- consistently produces this classic salad with much-appreciated restraint.
Readers Choice: Christys
Located directly across from the perennially popular Vacas Gordas, this newcomer to the North Beach restaurant scene is proof positive that man should not live by steak alone. A very friendly brother-and-sister team have created -- with the requisite blue-and-white color scheme and murals on the walls -- an eatery that is light and airy by day and comfortably cozy by night. The first bite of a toasty slice of pita topped with creamy tzatziki dip may tempt one to feast only on appetizers and salads (all made with the freshest of ingredients on site). But don't miss out on the whole snapper or daily fish special -- served simply, with olive oil, garlic, lemon, and herbs -- or the lamb souvlaki, with the big cubes of meat nicely charred on the outside, beautifully pink on the inside. And save room for desserts, several of which are outsourced -- to the owners' Greek mama who lives nearby. If you're in the area for lunch, the $7.50 weekday special is a steal: soup, small Greek salad, and choice of moussaka, pastitio, gyro, or lamb stew.
Even in a city filled with authentic Caribbean cuisine, suburbanites flock to the reliable Bahama Breeze chain for fine fakin' Jamaican food. Sometimes the wait is more than an hour -- not necessarily a problem if you spend it drinking in the huge outdoor bar area. The draw is the reliable quality of the food, from the goat cheese or ceviche appetizers to the steak or ropa vieja entrées. There are, unfortunately, some of the inevitable chain restaurant gimmicks in evidence; servers aren't waiters, they're "tour guides," and they dress in garish color-coded tropical-pattern shirts (although managers, oddly, have even worse shirts than waiters). One tip: The restaurant is so popular that parking is a serious problem, especially on weekends. Call in advance.
Readers Choice: Cheesecake Factory
Some might think Gordon Biersch is a contradiction in terms: a national chain of microbrew pubs. After all, a good microbrewery by definition is local and individualistic. Yet each Gordon Biersch pub, be it the latest in Miami or the first in Palo Alto, concocts its own beer. That's worthy of note. G-B's brew is delightfully fresh-made from Hallertauer hops, two row barley, and a special yeast strain imported directly from Germany. Generally Gordon Biersch has at least three staple beers on tap and two additional ones that are seasonal. We recommend the Golden Export, which is almost always available. Lightly hopped but surprisingly full-bodied, this beer is perfect for hot summer days. If you don't like drinking on an empty stomach, the food here is tasty. The décor is full of wood and leather, dark and spacious to create an atmosphere of comfortable elegance. There are even metal tables outside so you can enjoy a bottoms-up view of Brickell Avenue.
Cumin and tomato are the starring flavors in the heaping bowls of chili served at Picnics at Allen's, but the atmosphere at this Fifties-style pharmacy and lunch counter steals the show. Owners Marie and Jerry Burg are personable without being obsequious (an attitude mirrored by the waitstaff), creating an atmosphere that seems more like a real neighborhood restaurant than a self-conscious retro re-creation. Jerry, who cooks the chili, says good-quality ground beef and huge helpings make the chili ($3.95 for a bowl with generous portions of onions and cheese on the side) popular. He also admits that even the "spicy" chili isn't firehouse hot. "I don't like to make it so hot you can't taste it -- that's what the Tabasco's for." Tiny Tabasco bottles line the counter, where patrons can sit on spinning chrome and vinyl stools and make like they're headed for the sock hop, or cross the black-and-white checkerboard floor to sit at one of the cushy booths. "The recipe is one of those things that get handed down through the years," says Marie, "although [original owners] the Allens used hot peppers in theirs, and we don't do that." A Picnics at Allen's milkshake (the 2002 New Times Best Milkshake winner) is the perfect cure for Tabasco overapplication.
So a serious lack of funds, not to mention a rather scary war and that strange respiratory outbreak across the world, have prevented you from making it to Thailand this year. We're not crying for you. We have our own little piece of Thailand right here. We sit peacefully among the orchids listening to the tranquil gurgling of a waterfall. We munch on curry puffs and crispy noodles and jumping shrimp. And if we're feeling pyromaniacal, we order the satay and cook our beef or chicken over the flame of a tiny hibachi. Then we load up on signature dishes like the Star of Siam (breaded, marinated chicken cooked with chili sauce and mixed veggies) or the massaman curry, tender meat or seafood accompanied by cashew nuts, plus chunks of avocado and onion in a curry/coconut milk sauce. We satisfy the noodle jones with the always-comforting pad thai. Each day we return for lunch and dinner, and lunch and dinner, and lunch and dinner again. No wonder we can't afford to travel!
Readers Choice: Bangkok Bangkok
Sure the place is a hole in the wall. But it's a cool hole in the wall, and in South Beach a seven-ounce burger at any kind of cool place is going to average at least a couple of bucks more than Baby's $5.50 ($6.50 for a cheeseburger) -- plus you don't know what quality of meat you're getting. At local promoter/fast-food impresario Tommy Pooch's place, the beef is 100-percent certified Angus, and tastes so full-flavored by itself that no accouterments are necessary. Accouterments are, however, a strong point at Baby's. Burgers come with lettuce, tomato, onions, pickles, condiments, and choice of bread (egg roll, Texas toast, or hoagie roll). Cheeseburgers come with a much bigger selection of cheese than usual: American, cheddar, Swiss, mozzarella, provolone, even bleu cheese or feta. An extra 50 cents for a generous grilled onion garnish puts the burger over the top, and accompaniments of real (not frozen reconstituted-potato) French fries and an exquisite, handmade vanilla-bean milkshake puts you in hamburger heaven. (Important note: Do spring for a full-size burger; the 2.5-ounce "baby burgers," unlike their big sibs, are too small to be reliably cooked to diners' desired degree of rareness.)
Readers Choice: Fuddruckers
You won't find SoBe-style "mango/jalapeño/flourless chocolate piña colada" sushi rolls here. And the restaurant's setting in a low-rent mall could not be less trendy. But when a Japanese restaurant is packed nightly with Asian diners and regulars -- and one of the regulars happens to be the chef at one of Manhattan's most critically acclaimed spots for kaiseki (elaborate ceremonial tasting dinners, the ultimate in Japanese culinary arts) -- you know you're on to something special. Instead of going in the direction of unorthodox cuisine, Matsuri offers numerous sophisticated traditional Japanese delicacies rarely found in the U.S. -- except on Matsuri's specials board in the front of the room: ankimo monkfish liver, often likened to foie gras; nama uni, sparkling-fresh sea urchin that tastes like the most delicate of custards; shisamo, succulent salt-broiled freshwater smelts stuffed with their own caviar; negitoro wasabi topped with a tiny quail egg, sort of a tuna take on traditional steak tartare. What's also always offered is toro, something often seen on other Miami menus but seldom actually available -- and the price here for buttery belly tuna sashimi or sushi is about one-third what you'd pay at more high-profile spots.
Readers Choice: Benihana
When South Beach superstar chef Michael Schwartz left the eatery he co-founded, Nemo, last year, local media meticulously tracked his every post-Nemo burp (literally -- a burp's length being about as long as Schwartz's much-ballyhooed tenure at Bal Harbour's Atlantic House lasted). No such attention has been accorded to new Nemo head honcho Mike Sabin. Why? Maybe because Sabin isn't really new, just newly on top; he was actually the first cook hired when Nemo opened in 1995 -- which makes his succession seem same-old-same-old. In between his original Nemo time and now, though, Sabin garnered mighty impressive cooking credits, at Pacific Time and five restaurants in the Mark Militello empire locally, as well as a stint at Virginia's Inn at Little Washington, considered by many pro foodies to be the nation's top kitchen. Nevertheless, since returning to Nemo Sabin has demonstrated remarkable restraint, displaying eagerness rather than ego-tripping. He added some of his own innovative, boldly spiced Mediterranean-influenced fusion dishes to the menu, but retained the house-cured salmon/sprout rolls, the grilled Indian-spiced pork chop, the outstanding raw bar/shellfish platters, and all the other beloved favorites Nemo's regular customers count on. This respect for long-time patrons, as well as Sabin's meticulous attention to detail, almost superhuman energy, and just plain talent, make him worthy of much more notice.
The SSC has carried out a number of successful lunchtime sandwich deployments since completing its Design District buildup in late 2002. The Bay of Pig, one of the most effective items in its arsenal, contains the following judiciously selected ordnance: roasted and seared pork loin with grilled onion and mojo marinade, all packed into a baguette. But given the disastrous and deadly April 1961 invasion of Cuba for which it is named, do customers find it tasteless? Co-owner Cesar Canton, whose family carries bona fide anti-Fidel credentials, serves up an anecdote on wry: "A woman recently called up and ordered one for delivery. She goes: 'And could you send it with some air cover this time?'"
To borrow a line from the old ad campaign for Arnold's rye bread, you don't have to be Jewish to eat kosher chocolate. Indeed whether you follow those dietary rules or not, the ultimate issue is taste, for which Krön is an ecumenical experience of the heavenly culinary variety. Its tantalizing array of candies, truffles, and dipped fruits are all made by hand with top-notch ingredients (and prices to match). Coffee and baked goods like brownies and cookies are also for sale, though the tables set out in the middle of the mall are decidedly unatmospheric. Recent ink on the store has hinted at expansion plans. Let's hope any new outlets include a proper café.
"You don't need teeth to eat our meat," boasts the barbecue joint's menu. Apparently you don't need legs to get take-out service, either. Just call ahead for some hickory-smoked pulled chicken sandwiches, collard greens, homemade cornbread, and succulent pork ribs, give another ring when you've pulled up to the front door, and the friendly folks inside will hurry outside with your order. It's like a bank drive-thru, but with no need to show ID. And given the lack of street-side parking and the somewhat unsavory neighborhood, the service is not just a good but a necessary idea. The trick, of course, is not to swill down the beef brisket before you even pull back into traffic.
With about a dozen specialty beers on tap (plus seasonal selections) and another half-dozen or so microbrews in bottle, Titanic may not have the biggest selection, but there's no arguing that this brewery and restaurant has the most flavorful, carefully crafted beer in town. Brewmaster Jamie Ray whips up at least half of the daily draught offerings, including the evocatively named Boiler Room Nut Brown Ale and Triple Screw light ale, and he keeps receiving national awards for them at competitions where the judges, for the record, never spit. Then there are all the beer-related events -- live blues-and-brews, Mug Club specials, name-that-brewski contests, University of Miami sports nights, Brewmaster dinners, free T-shirt happy hours. The microbrew boyz here even send out an e-mail newsletter every week.
It could be that the noise level is deliberate, a reflection of the urban name, or accidental, a result of the former Astor Place's mod-Italian renovation. But while there may be quibbling about the motive, there's no question over the decibel level -- it's about as high as the two-story ceiling allows. That said -- or shouted -- Metro possesses a great buzz. Like that created by a horde of honeybees feeding on the pollen of flowers that have been grown on a nuclear-waste dumping ground. But a buzz, nevertheless. And on South Beach, louder is always better.
For $1.27, proprietors Fernando and Belkis Lopez offer up a deliciously spicy black bean soup that would make any Cuban mom envious. You can order it to go or savor the soup inside the Lopezes' humble restaurant, a popular lunchtime spot for the Gables working crowd, many of whom pop in to take advantage of specials such as turkey peccadillo and veggie lasagna. You can also enjoy one of the dozen or so pocket pita sandwiches and wraps along with your black bean soup for a well-rounded meal. Also featured on the menu are luscious smoothies and vegetable-juice combos purported to cure every ill from arthritis and acne to indigestion and impotence. Open for breakfast and lunch, from 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Monday through Friday.
Readers Choice: Dos Amigas
It's not surprising that Norman's remains the Gables's best restaurant. Quite frankly Norman's could give the best restaurants in New York, San Francisco, or Paris a run for their money. What's surprising is that there are still Miamians who haven't been to Norman Van Aken's mega-award-winning, elegant yet friendly place. Sure, it's expensive. But so are many other Miami restaurants that are just upscale meals. Norman's is a once-in-a-lifetime experience -- or would be if it weren't for the fact that no one who's been once can resist going back again and again, to revisit favorite classic dishes such as yuca-stuffed crispy shrimp with sour orange mojo, a zingy 21st-century take on traditional Cuban roast pork, or The Ultimate conch chowder (saffron/citrus-tinged, creamy-smooth, and topped with a rich foam "cloud"), as well as to taste-test the myriad of astonishing new surprises Van Aken always, like a world-class magician, has up his sleeve. Recent new inventions include Brazilian-influenced black-eyed pea acarajé fritters stuffed with blue crab; a "New World" duck duo (mango barbecued duck in a green chili crêpe, plus slices of wood oven-roasted rare duck breast with a cumin/scallion sour crema); and a remarkably innovative sushi trio (think crisp West Coast kumamoto oyster in piquant unagi dressing with Asian shoots, or tuna tartare with quail egg) whose only flaw is that there are only three rather than thirty per serving. Hungry yet? Don't mind us. Go eat. See ya next year, Norman, same time, same BOM category.
Readers Choice: Normans
A mensch, as defined in Leo Rosten's The Joys of Yiddish, is "someone of consequence," of solid character. This could also serve as the definition of a bagel -- a real bagel, that is, chewy enough to provide challenge, not those puffed-up pillows sold by supermarkets and most bagel chains, many of which don't even bother boiling their sissy specimens before baking them. For a bagel with guts you go to the source -- H&H Bagels of New York, by many accounts the world's absolute best. (Visit www.hhbagels.com to learn more.) Though the mid-Miami Beach branch of the originally NYC-based Tasti D-Lite chain makes most of its tasty baked goods in-house, the owners are wise enough to not mess with perfection. Their bagels are flown in from H&H. These are bagels that provide resistance to the teeth and honest yeasty flavor that comes from its own dough, not from blueberries, chocolate chips, or other frou-frou additions. They are mensch bagels, and in providing them, Tasti D-Lite has done Miami's human mensches a mitzvah.
BEST VEGGIE JAMAICAN LUNCH COUNTER
Kings Hi-Way Natural Food & Juice Take-Out Restaurant
Sit down at the counter and take a load off, brothers and sisters. Slow your heart rate with mellow reggae, fruit juice, and a salad. Emperor Haile Selassie stares down at you from the walls, regal and peaceful. Gentle philosophy is mixed into the smoothies. "It's the right way to live," claims the Rastafarian behind the counter. "I might die of pollution or an accident, but never from eating wrong."
Little Havana is changing. It used to be difficult to take the red peppers and mix them with the green, blend the onions with the grilled chickens and luscious strips of beef. But no longer. In a post-Elian world, you can bring it all together under the cover of a warm corn tortilla. Remember, fajita comes from the Latin word fascia, which means band, as in band together. So if you're going out for a little dialogue with your friends, why not stop at this Mexican restaurant, see the new Little Havana, and put all the ingredients together at last.
Just utter the words "La Broche" and you may find yourself embroiled in controversy. Controversy is La Broche's -- and its cutting-edge Spanish chef Angel Palacios's -- middle name. In fact debate has raged within these very pages about said avant-garde Spanish cuisine and its ingredients. But hey, creativity often stirs controversy, and this offshoot of the famous Madrid mothership is nothing if not creative. You definitely will want to try the Spaniard's signature "foam," used to top many a dish (raspberry foam on cauliflower soup, anyone?). But there's more to La Broche than foam. There are, for example, duck livers and rockfish, confits of lamb and codfish, sweet-potato cappuccino with ginger and coconut, turbot fillet with pork trotters. This is, for Miami, something very fresh and exciting. It is also expensive. But sometimes you have to pay for the best.
Readers Choice: Casa Juancho
Covertly it lurks in the refrigerated case, concealed among the soft drinks and ice teas. The double agent of desserts, it is rich yet somehow light and not off-puttingly eggy. A quivering homemade creation that is simultaneously rico and suave. See, the real secret at the Secret Sandwich Co. is not the sandwiches but the desserts, especially the flan. And now that we've told you, we'll have to kill you.
It always was easy to overlook this hole-in-the-wall eatery, located in a nondescript minimall on NE 167th Street, so possibly you've driven by a dozen times in the last few months without noticing it's gone. But the next time you're in the mood for authentic Chinese food, you will not be able to find any because May Wong's one-woman operation was virtually the only place in the county, save a couple of good dim sum joints, where you could find actual Chinese Chinese food -- not Americanized stuff but rather the dishes only found, outside of China, in sophisticated urban Asian outposts like San Francisco and Vancouver. Delicate sautéed pea sprouts with crab, dry-style or wet (sauced) fresh ho fan noodles, comforting porridge-like ginger-spiked shrimp and mushroom congee, addictive whole salty pepper shrimp (with the heads left on for maximum flavor) on a bed of crunchy-battered Chinese broccoli. You can't continue the list without wanting to run right out and -- but there's no place to run. And don't bother grilling the nice guys from the Thai restaurant that's replaced Macau about a possible new location. We've tried and they don't know. If you're reading this, May, come back! Miami needs you!
Yuca, plantain, papaya, all the subtropical specialties you could want: Frutería Los Girasoles is a way for Miami residents to partake of Homestead's bounty of fresh produce without having to make the drive (or at least not the entire drive). Produce prices stand out, but shoppers can also choose from an array of citrus marinades, tamarind candy, chilies of all shapes and sizes -- dried and fresh -- or knickknacks like the sculpture of a sombrero-clad stereotype napping under a cactus. The store is still pretty far south on Krome Avenue, but the selection and prices are worth the effort (and besides, it's scenic). On a recent weekend plum tomatoes went for a dollar per pound, a dozen ears of corn cost three dollars, and patrons swamped the orange stand, bagging dozens at the six-for-a-buck price.
Dining alone is both an art and a science. Therefore the solo diner obviously has a dual appreciation for both the imagination and the intellect. Where else to find the creativity as well as the observational opportunities necessary to keep such a person entertained than at the bar of Two Chefs? This ten-seater is cozy enough to get to know your neighbor but roomy enough to be served a full-course meal. And not just any meal, but one that might include escargot pot pie with smoked pork and sun-dried tomatoes, asparagus salad with Maine lobster and chimichurri, or a flatbread topped with Chinese black bean barbecued shrimp. Nor does the inspired elegance stop short of the wine list, which comprises smartly chosen, internationally renowned vintages that are poured into Riedel glassware. Feel the need to chat with someone about the virtues of the Gary Farrell Zinfandel and how it pairs with the oak-baked portobello with Gruyère and sourdough toast? Seek out the two chefs themselves, Soren Bredahl and Jan Jorgensen -- when two names are on the marquee, it's a pretty good bet that at least one is in the kitchen at all times.
Readers Choice: At home
Homestead may seem an unlikely location for an Asian grocery, but Sau Leung explains the simple reason why she and husband Tim, a Cantonese couple from Hong Kong, wound up peddling Sri Racha sauce in a town known for taco stands and pickup trucks. "We used to live in Kendall, but Homestead is much nicer. The people are nicer." Fair enough -- the traffic's better, too, although Sau admits that a dearth of customers is starting to cause business problems. "There's a little bit more Thai and Vietnamese people coming to Homestead, but most of them work in farming so they don't need to buy vegetables from us." In addition to a prodigious supply of produce, Tim's shelves are stocked with multitudes of fish and oyster sauces, won ton and egg roll wrappers, sesame oils, spices and spice mixes, noodles, even Asian dishware and paper lamps. If you're coming from Kendall, buy a six-pack of Kirin for $7.50 -- it should last about as long as it takes to navigate the traffic home.
Emblazoned on the sign of this Brazilian rodizio-style restaurant is, appropriately, a pig. Indeed this is a restaurant experience not for the faint of heart or stomach (vegetarians should steer clear). Porcao's staff will bring to your table a seemingly endless supply of grilled beef, chicken, pork, lamb, and sausage until you give the signal to stop. The $34.99 (plus tax) dinner also includes a mountainous buffet salad bar, and is an especially good value considering you shouldn't need to eat for the next 24 hours at least. If you have room for dessert, we recommend you share, lest you add avarice to your list of sins. For the less ravenous, try lunch (choice of carne, chicken, or fish, plus the aforementioned salad extravaganza) for $14.90 weekdays from noon to 5:00 p.m. Daytime dining includes a lovely view from the airy dining room of Brickell Key and the bay.
Epicure may not be the best-in-the-county for every individual cheese type. For instance, though the homemade cow's-milk mozzarella balls are admirable, Laurenzo's have a more pronounced fresh-dairy milkiness. But the variety at Epicure is unbeatable, and includes not just popular faves like Brie but aficionado faves such as powerfully pungent Epoisse. Prices ain't cheap (many cheeses are $15 to $20 per pound), but who's counting when you're talking about hard-to-find finds like imported raw-milk cheeses, AOC cheeses (appellation-controlled, like wine), and even more unbelievable, a sizable selection of truly gourmet kosher cheese, including some unusual French imports: flavorful mimolette cheddar, a rich 60-percent matiere grasse Brie, and a nice sheep's milk brebis. The crowded cheese counter contains artisanal cheeses from all over the western world: numerous rarities from French cheesemaker Chantal Plasse, including Salers (a kicked-up-several-notches unpasteurized milk take on industrially produced Cantal); farmhouse cheddars ranging from English (Keene's) and Irish (Tipperary) to Vermont (a four-year-old Grafton). Up on the top shelf, with related dairy products like crème fraîche and a hung Greek yogurt so thick dieters will never miss sour cream, you'll find Epicure's own cheese creations, like scrumptious pesto/pignolia-dressed string cheese, and a goat cheese spread with orange rind ideal for tea sandwiches (and which makes cream cheese taste positively anemic). Just when you've finished loading up your cart, having called the bank on your cell phone to arrange to mortgage one of the kids, you turn 90 degrees and realize there's a whole separate counter of goat cheeses you haven't even considered.
Readers Choice: Epicure Market
Bigger and better known -- as well as, for sure, better looking -- Tropical Chinese just a few blocks away is a tough act to beat when it comes to dim sum, China's traditional teahouse lunch/brunch. But although Tropical's dumplings and other "small plates" are mostly just as tasty, casual Kon Chau rules when it comes to authenticity. Truly serious fans can even feast on chicken feet (the trick is to not munch but suck the things like lollipops, concentrating on the fabulous black bean sauce rather than the tiny toenails). For the rest of us, there are over 60 steamed, stir-fried, stewed, or grilled selections, some sweet but most savory, with dumplings predominating: delicate steamed cilantro-spiked pork or shrimp har gau, wrapped in near-transparent pasta; more substantial large round raviolis stuffed with shiitakes, shrimp, and Asian garlic chives; addictively chewy cheoung fun, super-succulently sauced rice noodle crêpes filled with beef, pork, or shrimp. Especially impressive are hard-to-make holiday items like taro and turnip cakes, but even the simplest congees (variously flavored rice porridges) and roast pork or Chinese sausage buns seem more skillfully made than at most places in town ... or in New York, San Francisco, Vancouver, possibly even Hong Kong.
One word: atmosphere. Rumble your way to the counter for a jugo. Feel the ice-cold, fresh-fruit flavor -- papaya, cantaloupe, piña colada, orange-carrot, guanabana -- roll down your throat. But then take a look at your mixers -- the rice and beans, roasted half-chickens, and flans -- and head to the back to enjoy it all. Yeah, you'll likely consume some exhaust fumes with your ice-cold strawberry juice and tamale, but the light Cuban music and chatter will calm your soul and soothe your taste buds.
This upscale seafood restaurant, now guided by Arturo Paz (former chef Robbin Haas is said to be readying his own place in the Gables), wows diners each week with its sumptuous spread. Be prepared for the killer price tag of $36 per person. If you can snag a table on the elegant outdoor terrace with its magnificent view, however, the sting of the sticker price will be soothed by cooling breezes of the bay. Great option for a special treat, out-of-towners, or when someone else is paying. Reservations highly recommended.
One measure of the popularity of this place's wings is the fact that you must order them early on high holy days such as title fights, national championships, or the Super Bowl. Otherwise you could wait hours, so heavy is the demand. And no wonder. These are the meatiest wings in town. Unbreaded and grilled to nongreasy perfection, they're served in huge wooden bowls for party gorging. The toughest decision is always the dipping sauce: special, buffalo, or Miami Heat, which has been known to leave burn marks. The prices are popular too: 16 pieces for $10; 25 pieces for $12.50; and multiples of ten after that.
The space looks so funky, the crowd so cool, the music just right -- please don't bring the mango salad long before a lone bottle of beer, and have those be the only two "dishes" in front of your group for the next hour! Alas, that was the way it was. No amount of cajoling or directing could bring any rhyme or reason to the order of appetizers, main dishes, drinks, or God forbid water that arrived at the table. Welcome the new Tap Tap! Same funky Haitian art, same cool crowd, but new management that understands the golden word: service! Is it too cold for you in the back room? Zoom, up to the front. The jerk is particularly good today, says the waitress, but are your mojitos sweet enough? Finished with your coconut spinach appetizer? Then I'll bring your main dishes. Jaw dropping, you wonder if it's drugs, or whether you may have been mistaken for someone powerful. But then hospitality surfaces again, and not just for you. After stuffing yourself to the limit, there's still griot left on the plate. No need to waste it. Take it home. Okay, says your waitress, but remember, that means less to eat for the dumpster dog.
Step inside the Bird Road location and you'll find yourself in the re-created courtyard of a Nicaraguan hacienda, complete with burbling fountain and guitar music. That's the idea, at least, and if you don't find it convincing, let the excellent food and extremely attentive service at El Novillo ease your nerves until Bird Road's infuriating traffic seems far far away. If that doesn't work, eat a sixteen-ounce "Big Daddy" churrasco -- after that, you won't care where you are. Perfectly cooked churrasco -- seared outside, melting inside -- is the signature at El Novillo, but just about all the food stands out. The "nica-tizers" (all less than four dollars except sampler platters) are a good start for the uninitiated, particularly the vigoron (pork cracklings with yuca) or the fried cheese with slaw and corn tortillas. The prices are quite reasonable (from $12 to $25 for most entrées) but the white tablecloths and courteous waitstaff give El Novillo the air of a four-star restaurant -- or hacienda.
The River offers a taste of the ocean from the four corners of the Western oyster world. This bar/restaurant serves the cool freshly cracked ones from the coasts of Washington, Oregon, California, Prince Edward Island, New England, and the Florida Panhandle. A tasty flourish comes with the choice of jalapeño relish, Asian mignonette, and the traditional horseradish with cocktail sauce. Most oysters are $19/dozen; the Apalachicolas (from Florida's Gulf waters) run $10/dozen. They're all half-price during happy hour, 4:30 to 7:00 p.m. Monday through Friday. During the week the place (located in the Fishbone Grille's old space) is open for lunch and dinner (kitchen closes at about 10:30 p.m.). On Saturday hours are 6:00 to 11:00 p.m. or so. The joint is closed on Sundays, so if you're jonesing for oysters after church, you'll have to hit Shuckers or Smith & Wollensky.
Lynda Hull: "Sometimes after hours of wine I can almost see the night gliding in low off the harbor." Judith Berke: "The trees were wine and the sky was wine, and everything that wasn't the wine, was wine." Heather McHugh: "The wine glass fills with sun, a slow bright bomb. The mob in me sits still." So you see that the poets have spoken, and once they have spoken, must in some way be heard. Who was listening? Vino in Coconut Grove. Vin Amante and Flûte in South Beach. Joseph's Brasserie and Wine Bar in Sunny Isles. These wine and champagne bars, among others, have heeded the call to the vine and debuted within the last year to offer restless Miami residents a welcome alternative to martinis. Consider them the natural alternative to Ritalin. And now the mob in all of us can sit still.
Since both Zabar's and Fairway selfishly expanded their Manhattan stores rather than open branches down here in the sixth borough, Epicure wins this one again. Norman Bros. has more and better produce (designer lettuces like frisée and mâche; genuinely ripe tomatoes) at better prices; Gardner's has more interesting homemade dips and spreads; Arnie & Richie's has more succulent smoked fish; Laurenzo's has a more extensive and reasonably priced selection of wines, fresh fish, meats, fresh pasta, and Italian groceries. But when you consider Epicure's astonishing cheese selection, a bakery that carries everything from bagels to birthday cakes, a vast array of prepared foods second to none, an ever-expanding variety of ethnic specialties (including a recently added chorizo that will reduce Spanish-sausage lovers to tears), general variety (there's even a small but interesting selection of cookbooks), and overall high quality -- albeit at high prices -- it's undeniable that Epicure is still the best all-around, one-stop source for gourmet groceries.
There is a secret to serving good coffee that goes beyond the beans, the roast, and the water. Here it is: temperature. And those comical, corporate Einstein Bros. have figured this out. So they start each pot with a blend of Central and South American beans, roasted to a light brown, and they brew the java with water that is between 190 and 205 degrees Fahrenheit. (For those who skipped middle-school science: The boiling point of water is 212 degrees F.) Then, when the coffee is made, specially calibrated heaters under each urn hold the coffee at 175 degrees. That's hot. Oh, and if the brothers' employees are paying attention to company directives, they are also brewing up fresh coffee at least every hour, even if that means dumping out a full 1.5-gallon urn, according to Ron Savelli, the chain's vice president of menu development. Of course bagels, sandwiches, and soups are also available. But the allure here is coffee. Hot and fresh, Mel's Neighborhood Blend is perfection.
Black-truffle-stuffed tubes of foie gras, $58 bottles of aged balsamic vinegar, tiny round tins of salty black fish eggs -- these are pleasant things to consider, especially if you're sitting at a marble counter, nibbling a delicious smoked-salmon-and-cream-cheese sandwich and contemplating the department stores around you as they employ entirely new adjectives to describe pants. This is something you should do if you find yourself caught in mall land, feeling a bit light-headed and susceptible to the marketing onslaught. Find the Caviar & More kiosk. Order one of the array of small sandwiches served on French rolls, such as the aforementioned salmon for $2.29, a cheese manchego for $1.92, or even the foie gras sandwich for $12. There is also a caviar menu, with one- or two-ounce portions served with toast points, maybe a little crème fraîche. The caviar runs from a modest $6.50 an ounce for salmon roe to top-of-the-line Beluga (here the Huso Huso, a "smooth and pearly" Russian caviar that costs $71 an ounce if you eat it at the counter).
This is for sure a men-in-suits from an around-the-way Brickell firm kinda place. But the Capital Grille is also known for classic steak-house cuisine amid relaxed elegance, raising steaks to a level of excellence. In state-of-the-art meat lockers, short loins of beef are naturally dry-aged for fourteen days in a temperature- and humidity-controlled environment. Steaks are hand-cut daily, well seasoned, and grilled to desired temperature. The result is an extraordinarily flavorful and tender steak you'll probably need help finishing.
Tacos are simple concoctions, usually containing only three or four ingredients, so the little things -- a sprinkle of fresh cilantro, a squirt of lime juice -- can make a big difference. At Casita Tejas the difference is the meat. The chicken, ground beef, and pork tacos ($6.50 for any combination of three with rice and beans) all have well-marinated, good-quality meat, and the chefs at Casita Tejas take care not to overcook. But the steak tacos ($7.50 for three with rice and beans) are the reason to eat at Casita Tejas. Perfectly cooked flank steak slices -- not the dried-out shards of meat you find at so many taco stands and restaurants -- are marinated for twelve hours, though Casita Tejas manager Veronica Corona won't divulge the ingredients in the secret marinade. The restaurant has been a staple on Krome Avenue for fifteen years. The sunny interior looks out, via wall-length windows, onto Homestead's main drag (for what it's worth). Corona isn't troubled by the view across a parking lot at rival restaurant El Toro Taco (the 2002 New Times Best Taco winner). "We've been here so long," she shrugs, "people know us and we're constantly busy."
Sit in a booth, or sidle up to the counter and enjoy a massive repast with any and all combinations of the breakfast staples that make you want to go right back to bed: ham, bacon, sausage, waffles, pancakes, eggs, biscuits, gravy, grits. Chuck Wagon breakfasts provide the caloric intake you would need for ploughing your fields or rounding up cattle (rather than sitting at your terminal, wondering if co-workers can hear your stomach gurgle through the cubicle walls). Breakfast is available all day, and specials last from 6:00 to 10:00 a.m. Daily specials include a two eggs, grits, and bacon breakfast for $2, and omelet and breakfast combos that change every day, but hover around the $4-$5 price range.
Why are Miami Subs' fries so addictive? First of all, they're more visually appealing than the pale-yellow "freedom" fries dished up at other fast-food joints. Miami Subs cooks its fries until they're a golden, resonant brown. That means they're always crunchy and never underdone like those of so many competitors. But the real attraction, the reason you can't help coming back repeatedly for these rail-thin spuds, is the secret seasoning that imparts a memorable yet mysterious flavor -- a little spicy, a little exotic. Miami Subs honchos will not divulge the precise recipe, and that's fine. Who wants to try this at home anyway?
Readers Choice: McDonalds
BEST RESTAURANT FOR INTIMATE CONVERSATION
Perricones Marketplace & Caf
There's nothing more romantic than a picnic, right? A blanket spread in a secluded seaside nook or beneath a flowering tree. A column of red ants marching across your blanket. Sand flying into your plastic wine glass. And those damn flowers falling into your tuna fish salad. Maybe a picnic's not so romantic after all. You want the greenery, the seclusion, the quiet without all the dirt and pests. And, let's face it, you want a repast that's a little more seductive than what you can cram into a Tupperware tub. So call Perricone's and make a reservation for one of the tables on the back patio. If you really want to get intimate, ask for the wicker chairs beneath the trellis. No one will see you but the waiter when he brings you delectable dishes -- on real dishes. When he's gone, all you'll hear is the whir of the ceiling fans and the sighs of your beloved.
BEST RESTAURANT WHEN SOMEONE ELSE IS PAYINGWhen it comes to subjects of fine-dining debates, La Broche has been a veritable gastronomic epicenter. Just voicing the name of this controversial restaurant is enough to launch earthquakes of opinions, accompanied by tidal waves of whetted appetites and burning fires of curiosity. Indeed the fare that executive chef Angel Palacios prepares at this offshoot of the two-Michelin-star original in Spain can be called nothing less than incredibly avant-garde, highlighted by an array of foams, gelatins, and interesting if not always appetizing parts of animals. When all is said and done -- or eaten, rather -- La Broche isn't any more expensive than the usual prime suspects around town. But when it comes right down to the pork turbot in pea sauce garnished with sea urchin and "empanadas" of trout egg or basil-gelatin lollipops encasing tomatoes and watermelon, which you may or may not find truly exhilarating, you just might be relieved by the saving grace: "At least I didn't have to pay for it."
Hang out in Tokyo after working hours and you're likely to see hordes of men in suits, knocking back shots of sake or bottles of beer and feasting on sushi and yakitori at loud tavern-style eateries known as izakayas. Hang out in Coral Gables at the almost-hidden Japanese restaurant Su-Shin Izakaya and you're likely to behold the same sight. Of course those businessmen have wandered in from the hotel across the street, yet they seem right at home. What contributes to that feeling? The artfully wrapped rolls filled with the freshest slices of fish such as tuna, salmon, or yellowtail; daily specials such as maguro youke (lean chopped tuna topped with shiso leaves and served in a frosted glass bowl); and the most delicate sashimi. Makes you want to raise your glass and say "kampai!" too.
CARMEN GONZALEZ
CARMEN THE RESTAURANT, 700 Biltmore Way (David William Hotel), Coral Gables, 305-913-1944
The recent opening of Carmen the Restaurant completes a circle for chef/owner Carmen Gonzalez. In 1988, after testing her culinary skills at New York's Quilted Giraffe, Gonzalez left Manhattan for Miami. She landed in Coral Gables and in January 1989 opened her own restaurant, Clowns. New Times, in a praiseworthy review, had this to say: "The menu is on the cutting edge of what food critics are calling 'Americanized Caribbean.' Gonzalez calls it a blend of Southwestern, Caribbean, and California cuisine, but I prefer to call it Carmen-ized -- it's her creation." Clowns didn't survive, but Gonzalez moved on to executive positions at the Miami Club and the Tamarind Bar and Grill. Then she created a successful catering company. Now the lure of the restaurant business has drawn her back -- back to the creative challenge, to the Gables, and to an establishment of her own.
BEST LOCAL LANDMARK
The Biltmore Hotel.
BEST MONTH TO BE IN MIAMI
Any month where the temperature drops below 60 degrees.
BEST CHEAP THRILL
Chicken wings at Flanigan's.
BEST NOT-SO-CHEAP THRILL
Dining in Paris.
BEST PLACE TO SAVOR THE FLAVOR OF MIAMI
The original Casa Lario's.
BEST DINING TREND
Any -- as long as someone else cooks.
BEST NATURAL HIGH
Being in my kitchen.
BEST PICNIC SPOT
Crandon Park.
BEST REASON TO LIVE IN MIAMI
All the wonderful friends and colleagues I've met in my years of living here, and being a part of the culinary community.
RECIPE
ROASTED DUCK TAMALES WITH VINTAGE PORT SAUCE
Yields: Around 20 large or 40 appetizer-size tamales
1 pack corn husks, rinsed and soaked in warm water for one hour
Roast duck:
1 5-pound fresh duckling
1/2 medium onion
1 bouquet garni
1/2 carrot
5 garlic cloves, whole
3 celery stalks
Salt and pepper
Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Rinse duck under cold water and pat dry. Season both inside and out with salt and pepper. Stuff the duck with onion, bouquet garni, carrot, garlic, and celery. Place duck in a cooling rack and roast at 425 for one hour. Lower the temperature to 350 degrees and cook for another 30 minutes or until the inside temperature reaches 160-170. Remove from oven and let it cool. Cut or break duck into 8 pieces (2 breasts) for easier handling. With fingers and knife, separate as much meat from the bones as you can. Then, using just your fingers, tear meat pieces into thin shreds roughly one-half to one inch long (as you would for ropa vieja or pulled pork).
Vintage port sauce:
2 cups vintage port
1 cup red wine vinegar
2 tablespoons shallots, minced
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 cup heavy cream
3 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon chives
Heat 1 tablespoon butter in sauce pan, add shallots and garlic. Cook for 2 minutes. Add port and wine vinegar, reduce by half. Add heavy cream and reduce by half. Finish with remaining butter and chives.
Tamales:
(For the masa)
1/2 cup grilled corn kernels
1 medium Spanish onion
1 cup water
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
6 tablespoons vegetable shortening
1 1/2 cups yellow cornmeal
2 tablespoons honey
Salt and pepper
Purée the corn and onion with water in a food processor. Transfer to a bowl and stir in butter and shortening. Using your fingers, mix in the rest of the ingredients until it all comes together and there are no lumps.
To assemble:
Remove the husks from the water, drain, and lay on paper towels to dry. Tear two 1-inch-wide strips for each tamale to tie them. Lay two husks overlapping on a flat surface; place about 1/3 cup of the masa in the center; place 2 tablespoons of the shredded duck on top. Bring both sides of the husk up over the filling. Twist each end to wrap it up tightly, pushing the mixture to the middle as you tie it up. Steam the tamales covered on a bamboo steamer for 45 minutes. At this point they can be frozen for up to two weeks.
To serve:
Use a paring knife to cut lengthwise across each tamale and push toward the middle to expose filling. Place 2 tablespoons of duck on top and drizzle it with 2 tablespoons of port sauce.
When the entire glazed doughnut melts in your mouth like its velvety-crisp icing, you know you have a winner. Independently run Sunshine Donuts makes the kind of fluffy and sweet fried treats that people on diets dream of and drool over. Whether they be glazed, powdered, or Miami-style jelly doughnuts (filled with guava, dulce de leche, or mamey), you're getting fresh, made-on-the-premises goods that are worth the caloric indulgence. Sunshine also offers authentic Cuban café con leche, which is ideal for doughnut dunking.
Power lunch no longer implies Eighties-style business suits meeting over plates of ostrich carpaccio served in white-linen restaurants where the valets earn more than your secretary. If we've learned anything from the dot.com era, it's that sometimes the sweetest deals are scripted in duds that have seen less holey days and sealed not by a slash of the Cross fountain pen but by the clink of two pint glasses topped off with a mousse of India Pale Ale. At Gordon Biersch, one of the only downtown venues to regularly draw the workaday crowd, you can actually find both kinds of players: the stuffed shirt and the beer belly, lunching on pizzas and gourmet salads and fresh-brewed suds. Rest assured they have two things in common -- something on the table and something in the works.
Delicias is a delightful little neighborhood eatery housed in an unremarkable building on Miami's main drag. The food is good and reasonably priced. The tables are covered in Peruvian blankets protected by glass tops. A tragic telenovela quietly plays itself out on a television mounted high on the wall. An old man sits at the counter, slowly finishing his fish soup. And you are sitting at a table near a window, about to order a fresh, expertly prepared ceviche. This place has six varieties (all marinated in lemon juice): octopus, shrimp, fish, shellfish, and combinations. Order it and a drink to go. Take the lot and walk east, down to the water's edge. Eat your grub and gaze out onto Biscayne Bay.
"You go to Versailles for the people," reflects Bill, tipping the last of his garlic shrimp from fork to mouth. "You come to Villa Havana for the food." Basic, inexpensive Cuban food deftly delivered is what has kept the lines at this restaurant long for years. For lunch, a $4.95 plate of tender ropa vieja (con arroz y maduros, claro!) is among the best in town, certainly for the price. The place is clean, unpretentious, and well lit. The vested and bow-tied waiters are fast, helpful, and occasionally flirtatious with the women. Of course if you are looking for something a bit more pretentious, the menu includes several lobster dishes in the $15 to $19 range. "Yeah, I know that place real well," says New York Times scribe Rick Bragg, who spent several years slumming in Miami before moving to a similarly decadent city, New Orleans. "They have a ham shank that will bring tears to your eyes, the best one outside Alabama." Pause. "If you don't eat it, you could always save it till someone you don't like walks by and use it to beat them over the head." The place is open every day from 11:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m.
Readers Choice: La Carreta
Though this small café is named for the soft pseudo-ice cream it serves from a machine in the back (three flavors daily), the frozen dessert, which is not as gross as most cream-free "ice cream," is not the main attraction. What packs the place every weekday (closed weekends) are its tasty salads, wraps, and sandwiches made with extraordinarily fresh produce. Homemade sauces that are light but highly herbed substitute for butter, mayo, and high-calorie salad dressings. The tart, nutty, totally nongloppy sesame sauce coating the al dente noodles makes Tasti's pasta salad especially tasty. Everything served is meatless, though some items feature dairy and/or fish ingredients (a very light egg salad; a strongly tarragon-tasting tuna salad), and everything comes enclosed by, or accompanied by, fresh house-baked breads. During South Florida's three annual weeks of winter, the healthy homemade soups (different daily) are substantial, satisfying stuff too.
Readers Choice: Natural Chicken Grill
Not many of us think about checking out a Mexican restaurant when we feel like tucking into a stuffed crab-back and sucking the heads of prawns. Perhaps, being stone crab claw- and Key West pink shrimp-centric, we haven't had the exposure necessary to inspire such appetites. Or maybe, being offered mostly central Mexican cuisine here in South Florida, we simply haven't had opportunity enough to appreciate the fact that Mexico has a cuisine deriving from a couple of thousand miles of coastline -- and that's just on the Pacific side, where the town of Puerto Vallarta is located. Fortunately our education is at hand via El Puerto de Vallarta, and we're not just talking about the three R's of fish tacos, but the ABC's as well: avocado-garnished shrimp and snapper ceviche with pico de gallo; botana (appetizers) including shrimp quesadillas and oysters on the half-shell; and seafood caldos (soups) such as the piquant mariscos siete mares, a luxurious combination of seven different types of shellfish served with homemade corn tortillas. Finish off your secondary schooling with bacon-wrapped shrimp or garlic-sautéed lobster and a cool Tecate beer, and you'll be set to graduate with culinary horizons appropriately expanded.
Readers Choice: Joes Stone Crab
BEST CHEF SURVIVAL
Willis Loughhead
Bizcaya Grill
Ritz-Carlton Coconut Grove
We grew concerned when we got no response to a letter sent to Willis Loughhead at Bizcaya Grill. We were inquiring about his interest in being one of eight chefs to host a "Personal Best" page in Best of Miami. A follow-up call elicited this: He was out of town and wouldn't return before our deadline passed. Out of commission was more like it. A bit more research revealed that he had been in a very serious car accident on the Julia Tuttle Causeway -- cut off by a driver who then disappeared. A slick roadway and an unforgiving guardrail left Loughhead with a broken nose and about 100 stitches in his face and head. The traumatic experience and slow recovery (now nearly complete) provided him with a new perspective on some of the best things about Miami. For instance, Best Natural High: "Walking away from a car wreck. I didn't get more than four steps or so, but at least I could stand. That, and endorphins." Best Emergency Room: "Miami Heart. It's never crowded." Best Plastic Surgeon: "Dr. Mark Broudo. From now on I'll send all my business to him." Best Medicine: "I don't know her name, but the ER nurse was pretty cute."
BEST FARMERS MARKET
South Florida Farmers Market
Gardner's Markets at Pinecrest
Judge a farmers' market not by the nature of its distractions but by the quality of its produce. So what if you can find stilt walkers juggling swords while balancing flaming pineapples on their heads and telling off-color jokes to bleary-eyed parents with toddlers in tow at other local markets. Elizabeth and Maurice Adams, proprietors of Gardner's Markets, have quite a different mission statement in mind -- promote regional products and educate, rather than entertain, the masses. Or as they note on their Website: "We sponsor this farmers' market in hopes of creating a dialogue between growers and consumers. Our mission is to present a forum for the sale and purchase of fresh food grown or produced by the people selling it." Which is why on Sundays from 9:00 a.m. till 1:00 p.m., from the beginning of January through the end of March every year, you can meet the faces behind the vegetables. Like Teena Borek of Teena's Pride, who is well-known for her two dozen varieties of colorful heirloom tomatoes, including Cherokee purple, green Zebra, and Brandywine red. Or Bee Heaven Farms's Margie Pikarsky, who heads up the Redland Organics, a community-supported agriculture cooperative that grows and sells locally everything from mustard greens to sunflowers. In short, the South Florida Farmers Market is really just another way of saying "teikei," a Japanese term that translates quite literally to "putting the farmer's face on food."
The best testament to Original Caribbean Kitchen's authenticity is the number of Caribbean transplants who eat there. Far from the rarefied air of the Beach, where ethnic food gains a capital "E" and checks double or triple, Original Caribbean Kitchen -- more lunch counter than sit-down restaurant -- serves the basics at generous prices. Heaping portions of curried goat, oxtail stew, stewed beef, and tripe -- all with peas and rice -- cost between $6 and $7.50. Call ahead and your goat will be waiting for you when you arrive.
"Frozen yogurt? Who eats frozen yogurt these days?" asked our incredulous editor. Well, if the satisfied crowds at the Beach's yogurt emporiums are any gauge, lots of people. Consequence-free indulgence is South Beach's credo, and a cup of frozen yogurt remains the choice for locals seeking to satisfy their sweet tooth while still keeping a neurotic eye on their waistline. Tasti D-Lite Café, nearby in Mid-Beach, has become a new favorite (its New York City namesake brand is already on the minds of transplanted Manhattanites), but for those seeking to truly have their cake, er, yogurt, and eat it too, Creams 'N Yogurt is tops. Not low-fat but absolutely fat-free, and only seven calories per ounce, it's a tasty yet guiltless treat. Flavors change regularly (just try to find dulce de leche at your nearest TCBY franchise), so why not go back for seconds. Heck, be really bad. Order a large!
Know this going in -- Novecento is not another version of the same-old, same-old Argentine steak house. In fact it has more in common with the typical Parisian bistro, and we could praise it just for breaking out of the stereotypical parrillada box alone. Fortunately we can also laud it for offering Alton Road residents artistic salads such as the artichoke hearts, frisée, haricots verts, grapefruit, and toasted almonds tossed in a honey-lime vinaigrette, and fish dishes including grilled tuna with yuca, sliced onions, jalapeños, cherry tomatoes, sliced avocados, and chimichurri salsa. Which is not to say that the eatery isn't a meatery -- beefier entrées range from entrecote a la pimienta (steak with peppercorns) to medallones de lomo (filet mignon medallions in a Malbec reduction), with rib eyes and skirt steaks and lamb chops thrown in the mix, too. But the presentations are more sophisticated than the slab of skirt steak on a plate that we're used to seeing, and the side dishes, such as sweet potato purée or root vegetable gratin, rate a bit higher than mashed spuds or rice. As does Novecento, a much-needed addition to the area, in general.
What it lacks in location -- stuck as it is in the corner of a strip mall -- it more than makes up for in goodies, which explains why Renaissance has won five Best of Miami awards over the years. From scones to San Francisco sourdough. From empanadas to a chicken sandwich on focaccia with roasted red peppers. They make it there. And they make it memorable. Sit inside at the bar and soak up the aromas. And if it takes awhile to reheat that croissant, don't fret. The microwave isn't broken. It's warming the way it should be: in the oven.
In terms of upscale "New Indian" cuisine, an innovative, lightened-up approach to traditional Indian food, Miami as yet has nothing that modern. But many dishes at Imlee come close; even the bargain buffet lunch is largely a custom-cooked affair rather than the usual collection of steam-tabled stuff that, at most Indian eateries, sits, stewing itself into increasingly soggy submission as the afternoon wears on. Try kadai shrimp, five seriously fiery fresh jumbo shellfish cooked perfectly tender and coated with rich, reduced tomato sauce. Equally electrically spiced is paneer jahlfrezi, a take on classic chili-spiked chicken jahlfrezi with custardy pressed yogurt cheese substituted for poultry; even more imaginative paneer pakora, nothing like normal pakoras, uses rectangles of firm fried paneer to enclose savory spiced spinach stuffing. For vegetarians, malai kofta, cloud-light nonmeat "meatballs" in a smooth but intriguingly tongue-tingling cream sauce, will be a wonder. Imlee's sleekly spare décor, immeasurably less embarrassing than that at most Indian joints (which tend toward either dumpiness or Last Days of the Raj excess), makes the place entirely appropriate for an elegant date or dignified business dinner, as well as a casual night out with family or friends.
Readers Choice: House of India
This place has been around at least 48 years -- manager Dan Nudge thinks maybe 50 -- way the hell back in the woods and gone without a proper address. It used to be a bait shop on Biscayne Bay just north of the MacArthur Causeway, but was bounced when the Miami Herald built its waterfront eyesore. It still is a bait shop, but there's a whole lot more going on. Owner Jim Luznar likes the scruffy, backwoodsy feel of the site, despite the nearby sewage plant. Now there are palm trees and a gravel drive instead of the muddy path that used to lead up to Jimbo's shack. It's still authentically funky, though. Attracts folks like Bob Dylan when he's around. He'll slouch in for Jimbo's smoked Costa Rican marlin or salmon at eight bucks a pound, and chug down some Natural Ice or Budweiser beer. Nudge explained that the wonderful taste of the fish owes to the smoking process: "Yeah, ya put it in a blind for the night, salted down and sugared and watered, right out back. It's the weather gives us the taste. Yuh cain't man-u-facture that."
This comfortable Cuban restaurant at Galloway and Sunset Drive bears the spirit of La Carreta without the teeming hordes and with a much more refined décor (no grease on the leather booths). Their café con leche is a staple for neighborhood aficionados of this milk-and-coffee combination. What makes it better than other places? Well, for one thing they use whole milk unless you ask for low-fat. That may not do much for the love handles, but it bodes well for café richness. Also the Cuban coffee and warm milk are served separately so customers can mix to their liking. Added plus: The waitresses speak fluent English, so drive up from Pinecrest even if you're an old Cracker and talk like it.
The twin towers of the World Trade Center still stand under a starry sky -- on the giant mural decorating a wall at New York New York. The other walls, clad with posters of Broadway shows such as Dancin', Sugar Babies, and Les Miserables, facsimiles of New York Times front pages, photo stills from feature films, and a ticker flashing the latest news, provide reminders of the city too, as do the booths boasting names such as Broadway and Times Square. But the items on the menu at the 23-year-old eatery are really what offer South Floridians that true bite of the Big Apple. Hot dogs, plain or topped with chili. Potato knishes. Deli sandwiches, including corned beef, pastrami, roast beef, turkey, and killer chicken salad served with coleslaw and a potato pancake. A variety of hot entrées, breakfast items, and a well-stocked salad bar. Bagels, cream cheese, and the ubiquitous Dr. Brown's soda in black cherry, cream, and Cel-Ray. And a refreshing refreshment known as a lime rickey. Rice pudding, colossal apple pie (à la mode with Häagen-Dazs ice cream, if you like), a decadent dense creation dubbed chocolate beast cake, and of course creamy cheesecake bursting with the kind of calories that could only be walked off in a major city. It's food so fine we had to start spreading the news.
For the past 38 years, Sarussi has offered the biggest Cuban sandwich in town: fifteen inches long and a good four inches tall. What makes owner Humberto Betancourt such a culinary genius is not mere size, however. It is his top-secret hot sauce. Piquant but not spicy, the peppery condiment gives this full meal of a sandwich a unique flair. Hints of Tabasco, mojo, tomato sauce, and some unidentified salsa reportedly smuggled in from Costa Rica. Intelligence sources say he prepares the sauce in a secure bunker beneath his heavily guarded home. Direct questions about the ingredients are met with icy stares, then mocking laughter. Good try.
The festively decorated Paquito's, its rooms festooned with a combination of folksy and kitschy decorations, dishes up genuine Mexican cooking the likes of which you'd find in a good fonda south of the border. Traditional fare ranges from a sopa de tortilla, sopes (small round cornmeal discs topped with refried beans and shredded cheese, served as starters), the classic chocolately rich mole poblano with chicken, tamales, and a real stick-to-your-ribs, homestyle dish, chilaquiles (pieces of tortillas soaked in sauce, topped with chicken and cheese). Margaritas are good but beer is a better accompaniment to food, and Paquito's carries a number of brands, among them the amber Pacifico as well as darker brews Negra Modelo and Bohemia. Desserts include standard Latin sweets like flan but also include crepas de cajeta -- cajeta is apparently an obscenity in certain South American quarters, but in Mexico it means dulce de leche de cabra (goat).
Readers Choice: Dos Amigas
Maybe it's because in this neck of the woods (one block outside Miami Shores) you used to get mighty thirsty until this restaurant picked up a liquor license over the summer. Maybe it's because the bartender and the owner and the waiter all greet you as you arrive. Maybe it's because they hold live music nights. Maybe it's because the mixture of seafood and pasta is so tasty. Maybe it's because, if you visit a few times, you're sure to know someone at a table or the bar. Maybe it's because the fish-net nautical theme can't be beat. Most likely it's a combination of all of the above. Most likely you're going to be glad everyone knows your name as you fork up those mussels and sip your martini. (On Wednesdays, ladies, your first one is free!)
Whether you're looking to satisfy your craving for vegan fare or for soups that extend beyond the chicken-noodle and clam-chowder variety, Whole Foods Market is the place to go. Besides interesting items such as Mediterranean beef stew and spinach orzo soup, it features an expansive array of prepared vegetable dishes, from tofu pad thai to raspberry tofu diablo to a delightfully tangy eggplant à la napolitiana (red peppers drenched in olive oil and vinegar stuffed into an eggplant). Or if you're into down-home cookin', the market offers healthy portions of piping-hot meat loaf, barbecued and fried chicken, sweet corn, stuffing, steamed vegetables, and lots of other hot foods.
The Mazzawi family has been dishing up falafel and shish tawook (chicken gyros) to Miami residents since 1975. Grab a spinach pie and browse the market's aisles for every conceivable Middle Eastern delight, from fresh-baked pita to tahini to a wide selection of olive oils, spices, nuts, and even, um, lifestyle accessories like hookahs. Word to the wise: If you buy a hookah, make sure you purchase some pistachio baklava. You'll regret it later if you don't.
We're not exactly sure why, but most people prefer to be romantic in the dark. If that's true for you, then Magnum, owned by Jeffrey's proprietors Jeffrey Landsman and Kurt Schmidt (Jeffrey's has been a perennial winner of this award), is shadowy enough for smooching, shady enough for liaisons of the deliciously illicit kind. Not only is the room dimly lighted in an alluring way, a throaty jazz singer and a back-door entrance off a rather deserted alleyway suggest something concealed, something that says speakeasy, something that whispers romance.
David Tunnell, who used to be management at MTV's Latin American operation, decided to leave corporate life in the early fall of 2002. By Thanksgiving he'd opened Dogma (the name inspiration came from pal Carlos Carreño), and by Christmas the outdoor shop was packed. Instant Biscayne hipster hangout. That's because Tunnell, who's from Los Angeles, went to some trouble to use only the best ingredients -- Vienna rolls, Hebrew National dogs, and real L.A. chili (which costs twice as much to fly in) -- for the defining Dogma experience: the chili dog. Three hundred of these will go on a slammin' lunch day, most to those kinds of fans you see in the Design District or at the more upscale boho clubs. Designer chairs, retro-contemporary décor, windows everywhere so the kitchen crew can converse with the customers in total equality. Prices: $2.45 to $4.50 (the latter gets you the burrito chili package, which actually has two dogs). Seven days from 11:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m.
Don't let mottos like "home of the $3.99 lunch special with free drink" fool you. Sure, the restaurant's truth-in-advertising bears up -- the midday meal really is that darn cheap -- but Jamaica Inn is about much more than value. It's about authenticity. In other words, the peas and rice? Moist. The stewed oxtail? Meaty. The jerk pork? Aromatic. The curry goat? Spicy. And the Red Stripe? Cold, of course. Which is quite refreshing considering the level of heat activity that is going on in most of the dishes here, but especially in the tamarind sauce that comes on the side -- that stuff can steam-clean your brain. Jamaica Inn? Ja, mon.
ROB BOONE
METRO KITCHEN & BAR, 956 Washington Avenue (Hotel Astor), Miami Beach, 305-672-7217
At an early age this Midwesterner had a hunch there was more to life than meat and potatoes. Those instincts drew him to culinary school in Madison, Wisconsin, which led him to the respected Steven Wade's Café in Milwaukee. Then a big break -- working under celebrated chef Charlie Trotter in Chicago. That, in turn, led to several years in Coral Gables with Trotter's former employer, Norman Van Aken. By the time he left Norman's, Boone was the restaurant's chef de cuisine. Next stop: South Beach, where he became executive chef of the extravagantly ambitious pan-Asian experiment called Bambú. Cameron Diaz may have been its celebrity proprietor, but Hotel Astor owner Karim Masri was the main man. Bambú's life was short but intense, and after it closed, Masri installed Boone at the helm of Metro Kitchen & Bar, the instantly popular new restaurant downstairs at the Astor.
BEST PLACE FOR FRESH FRUIT
Tropical Delights in Homestead hands down grows the best and most amazing certified organic fruit. Lots of different and rare things among the crops.
BEST CHEAP THRILL
Jumping the fence really late at night to take a swim in the pool that's next to my Uncle Harold's pad in the Gables. (That would be the Venetian Pool.)
BEST NOT-SO-CHEAP THRILL
Getting caught while attempting the cheap thrill.
BEST PLACE TO SAVOR THE FLAVOR OF MIAMI
Miracle Mile in Coral Gables, for everything from great food, fashion, and a really fine wine store -- Wolfe's Wine Shoppe.
BEST LOCAL LANDMARK
Joe's Stone Crab.
BEST REASON TO LIVE IN MIAMI
My wife and I love it in Miami. We're planning on raising our soon-to-arrive child here. We love that Miami is so diversified, a place for everybody to live and mix with tons of different cultures and people. This city helps keep me creative.
RECIPE
CHOCOLATE AND CARAMEL KYANDE WITH PISTACHIO DIPPING SAUCE
Yields: About 36 pieces
Ingredients for the kyande:
20 ounces milk chocolate
5 ounces dark chocolate
14 ounces whipping cream
7.2 ounces ground hazelnut powder
7 ounces ground pistachios
3.5 ounces clarified butter
1 can of dulce de leche (made from sweetened condensed milk)
10 sheets of phyllo dough
Clarified butter for brushing phyllo dough (approximately H cup)
Powdered sugar for caramelizing
A blowtorch
Kyande preparation:
Toast the hazelnut powder and ground pistachios in a 250-degree oven for 5 to 7 minutes or until toasted. Reserve. Melt the chocolate in a stainless-steel bowl over a double boiler. Remove and add the toasted and reserved ingredients. Slowly drizzle and whisk in the cream and clarified butter and allow mixture to cool to a firm yet pliable room temperature. Then pipe the mixture into quarter-inch-diameter pieces using a pastry bag and pastry tip. Top with a thin line of the dulce de leche. Freeze overnight, then cut into 1-inch pieces. Freeze again.
Cut the phyllo into individual squares (about 4-by-2 inches). Put a piece of the chocolate mixture in the middle of a piece of phyllo, brush phyllo with clarified butter, and wrap and twist the ends to form a piece of candy (kyande). Continue with the rest of the chocolate mixture. Refrigerate for a half-hour when rolled. Dust generously with powdered sugar, caramelize with a blowtorch, and serve accompanied by the dipping sauce.
Ingredients for the pistachio dipping sauce:
2 cups of high-quality pistachio purée
2 cups crème anglaise
Blend above ingredients thoroughly.
Robert Is Here, the venerable and sprawling fruit and produce stand that everyone passes on the way to Everglades National Park, is home to the finest tropical fruit and ice cream concoction you'll ever find. Just take a number (there's usually a line for the shakes) and choose from the selection of mango, papaya, guava, strawberry, banana, and whatever else the staff has on hand.
Along with Michelle Bernstein, Willis Loughhead headed South Florida's "hottest rising young chef" list for years -- enough years that a new name for the list (say, "hottest aging young chefs") seemed imminent. Quick moves from a brief stint at Tantra through her own venue at South Beach's Strand to Azul at the Mandarin Oriental finally vaulted Bernstein from "rising" to "respectable." But Loughhead, her Tantra successor, gamely stuck it out there, cooking serious food in a silly venue, for three years. When the new Ritz-Carlton Coconut Grove opened this past September, however, its flagship Bizcaya Grill offered Loughhead a chance to get seriously serious. Ritz decorum, as well as supervision by dining-operations chief Roberto Holz from Germany, means that Loughhead's creative impulse is somewhat trimmed here. But the overall result is most interesting. Menu items like an heirloom-tomato salad with fig carpaccio reflect Loughhead's New American passion for locally produced, seasonal ingredients. Sautéed foie gras with Doktorenhof vinegar showcases Holz's classy Old World influence; and a "simply grilled" list enables diners to indulge their own creative impulses by pairing premium-quality meats or fish with a choice of imaginative sauces (lobster basil Hollandaise, Barolo wine/foie gras butter, saffron aioli, many more). An elegant outdoor courtyard and an indoor dining room accented by muted music also make Bizcaya a best bet for a business lunch or dinner.
Readers Choice: Caf Tu Tu Tango
"I feel like I've stepped back into Brooklyn, circa 1961," observed a Jersey-based visitor upon entering the Mecca of Miami delis. Rascal House was established in 1954, so the visitor wasn't too far off. Weekends and around holidays it can be a madhouse, although an organized one, as the clientele (which skews toward the blue-rinse, polyester-clad of a certain age) shuffles through lines divided according to the size of the party. The food is not always 100-percent fabulous, but one can forget minor transgressions when starting in on sour pickles, tangy coleslaw, and a slice of buttered challah bread. Almost without exception, portions are huge, whether it's the pot roast, a regular sandwich (never mind the sky highs!), or homemade desserts such as the chocolate bobka, guaranteed to keep you on a sugar high for at least two days.
Readers Choice: Wolfie Cohens Rascal House
The emphasis is on "nuvo" here, as Haiti-born chef/owner Ivan Dorvil puts his own spin on the cookery of his homeland with updated, more sophisticated versions that reflect his own training in Montreal and influences picked up at various stints during his career. That said, the traditional pumpkin soup haitienne is just that, hearty fare that spells comfort food for those with Caribbean roots. Friendly and personable, Dorvil will patiently walk you through the menu and his specials, and then disappear into the kitchen to whip them up. He is sure to come back out later to monitor your progress and chat in the pleasant dining room decorated with folk art and burlap curtains. Not yet open a year, Nuvo Kafe will, we hope, manage to stick around.
If you don't order one of the mofongo dishes at Old San Juan Restaurant, order a five-dollar mofongo ball with your entrée. The pork-and-mashed plantain combination is cooked perfectly. Puerto Rican cuisine may not be the pathway to weight loss (lots of pork, lots of pork and chicken cracklings, lots of fried everything) but it is undoubtedly comfort food with warm flavors (garlic and oregano are prominent) and no fiery spices. The restaurant isn't cheap, but with most entrées between ten and twenty dollars, it's far from the most expensive in Miami. The mofongo dishes come with just about everything, from the traditional fried pork to lobster, conch, or octopus. Other menu highlights include the pasteles (a Puerto Rican dumpling stuffed with seasoned chicken or pork and boiled in a green-plantain leaf), and the asopaos, rice stews served with combinations of seafood, meats, and (of course) fried plantains.
At some point several years ago, tapas acquired cachet, the kind of overpriced yuppie fodder that turns up on menus where it has no business. Los Gallegos, serving its namesake Spanish cuisine from a cozy Bird Road location for more than a decade, has seen that trend come and go, but it keeps supplying excellent, fairly priced food in an unpretentious setting. The restaurant has the feel of a family joint, right down to the checkered tablecloths and friendly service, and prices for the tapas dishes (between four and ten dollars) are just as congenial. Of particular note: chorizo served sizzling in a hot skillet, and airy croquetas bacalao.
The only fresh variety of pasta regularly on the menu at this teeny restaurant is the pappardelle, which alone is worth a visit. Otherwise you'll have to take your chances when you go (low risk, high return). During a recent dinner there, these broad, melt-in-your mouth noodles were starring in two of the tempting daily specials. Should your dining companions fancy something else, the spaghetti or pretty much anything else on the menu will set them to rights. Given that the word is out on the consistently delicious Italian food dished out nightly, if you've got a hankering, you'd better call ahead. Mangia bene!
It depends on who you ask, what's in stock, or how well you count. But the list at Graziano's, a fab Argentine steak house that is lined with wine racks, runs between 450 and 600 bottles. That's a lotta grape juice, sugar, and much of it is tasty South American stuff -- Argentine Malbec, Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon, and so on -- that goes oh-so-well with the beef roasting on the asador. In the mood to really spend? Graziano's stocks Italian wines even the collectors wish they had in their cellars. In fact take a look around, 'cause you're probably sitting next to someone who knows what wine is all about. Just make sure you ask the waiter how much your neighbor's vintage might cost before you splurge on the urge to follow suit.
Readers Choice: The Forge
What's the point of Cuban coffee without Cuban conversation? One fuels the other, high-octane caffeine igniting chatter that is usually loud, hurried, and emotional. Versailles's walk-up window, a local landmark if ever there was one, is as close to the heart of the Cuban spirit as you can get without boarding a boat and heading south. It is the quintessential café cubano experience in Miami. And here they know how this volatile catalyst should be served -- black as pitch, lots of sugar, and steaming hot.
Readers Choice: Versailles Restaurant
From 4:00 to 6:00 p.m. every weekday the Fish House showcases its excellent fresh-fish selection with an earlybird special for seafood lovers. Fresh fillets of all their fish -- from yellowtail to grouper to tilapia -- along with a side (try the excellent coleslaw) are just $7.99. The only catch is the parking lot. There's nowhere near enough room in the lot for all the cars, so patrons park on the sidewalk and in the median between Miller Road and the strip mall where the restaurant is located. It's worth the hassle.
This establishment again reaps kudos (for the third year in a row) for its winning combination of traditional cuisine (with a good selection of fish for the noncarnivores in your crowd), festive atmosphere, and dangerously delicious caipirinhas. Get down with your samba self during the live music and dance shows on Friday and Saturday nights (Picanha's hosts karaoke nights on Thursdays). During the week it's dinner only. Weekends they open the doors at noon to those who come for a leisurely lunch that well may include the traditional feijoada.
Chef/owner Alan Hughes took his velvety foie gras off the menu for a month or two, but customer demand for it was so high he had to reverse his decision. What makes his concoction so delicious is the simplicity of it. Hughes uses French goose livers, but says Californians make excellent ones as well. The key, he says, is to sear a steak from the fatty goose liver very hot, but because it is primarily fat, you don't want it so hot that it "renders," or melts. Served on a brioche, drizzled with port wine concentrate, and priced at a very reasonable nine dollars, it is an outstanding gustatory experience. The restaurant is open Tuesday through Saturday and brunch on Sunday.
Even at excellent sushi bars, the best that diners can expect at meal's end is some red-bean or green-tea ice cream out of a carton. At Shoji Sushi, where Hedy Goldsmith reigns as pastry chef, the green tea flavors a to-die-for white chocolate cheesecake with blackberry coulis, or a crème brûlée accompanied by sake gelee, candied kumquats, and a lacy brown rice tuile. Goldsmith, an honors graduate of the Culinary Institute of America's first Baking & Pastry Arts class, is also in charge of the desserts at the other two restaurants in Myles Chefetz's one-square-block South Beach eats empire, upscale New American Nemo and all-American diner Big Pink, and at each of the three very different eateries, the sweets flawlessly suit the mood. Nemo regulars would riot if Goldsmith's warm chocolate pudding cake in a rich sweet cream puddle were ever removed from the menu. Big Pink people would sooner allow ya to step on their blue suede shoes than to leave the table without a big chunk of Elvis's favorite red velvet cake -- here even more heavenly than in The King's current place of residence. Let's face it: the woman is not a pastry chef, she is a Dessert Goddess, capital letters totally intended.
Readers Choice: Cheesecake Factory
Happy "tin" anniversary! Yup, it's been ten years that PT has been in business, which means that a decade has gone by since we first awarded this outstanding Pacific Rim restaurant in our annual issue. Indeed, to our knowledge, not a single year has gone by without chef-owner Jonathan Eismann, who helped revolutionize Lincoln Road dining, being mentioned in some capacity -- whether for Pacific Time or another venture of his (Pacific Heights, PT Café, Westside Diner). But while the traditional gift for hanging in thus far is something made out of tin or aluminum -- the Happy-Anniversary.com Website suggests tin lanterns from Mexico, fireplace accessories, or woks (we're not joking, though we suspect they are) -- Pacific Time will have to settle, at least in theory, for paper.
Readers Choice: Joes Stone Crab
This charming crêperie replicates the design of a classic French café: the tile floors, the long wooden benches along the walls, lots of reading material lying about, and good, strong java. If the weather were cooler, one could easily picture a professorial type in corduroys perusing Le Monde over his afternoon espresso. Locals and tourists alike flock for the delicious savory and sweet crêpes, along with other simple fare like croque monsieur (the Gallic version of grilled cheese with ham), at prices that will make you wonder whether you are really still in South Beach. To avoid a wait, come earlyish on a weekend morning with a newspaper or a book, and ease into the day over a steaming bowl of café au lait.
Readers Choice: Starbucks
On weekends the lines go out the door at this diminutive gelateria. But in the case of this franchise of an Italian operation, it's absolutely worth the wait, even if you can't snag one of its precious few seats. The gleaming, high-tech shop is sparklingly clean without being sterile (even the bathrooms are outfitted with what look like designer fixtures). The staff is outfitted in bright yellow overalls and matching bandanas, and they keep things moving along efficiently. As in Italy, you place your order and pay, then take your receipt to a server who scoops up an artfully shaped mountain of creamy delights from a rainbow-hued selection of flavors. If you opt for a cup instead of a cone, your gelato is topped off with a crisp cookie, a nice touch -- and tasty too. The single portion is already decadently large; the double should satisfy even the greediest -- or do duty as a perfect shared dessert to top off a date in the Grove. Bacio also serves one of the best espressos this side of Roma.
There are literally dozens of frita joints scattered along Calle Ocho, some of which claim to be the reyes (kings) of fritas while others boast they're the magos (wizards) of the spicy Cuban hamburger (curried beef and fried onion topped with papitas, freshly fried potato shreds). But Fritas Domino has an identity all its own -- it's an original. Recently a fortysomething gentleman walked up to the counter and asked for the managers. He wasn't complaining, he just wanted to say hello. The man wondered if the managers remembered him. He used to work at Fritas Domino's original location, Calle Ocho at Twelfth Avenue. The Espivil family, who opened it in 1961 as a place where exiles could find authentic Cuban food, had given him his first job off the island. The conversation moved from sentimental recollections to fists-down declarations regarding Fritas Domino's stature among Miami frita shops. Referring to a competitor, the former worker emphatically declared, "They say they're kings, but they're not Domino!"
Despite its being located in the former and famed Warsaw nightclub, you don't have to arrive in a limo to gain entrance to Jerry's. And while you waltz in, valets will somehow find a place to park your beat-up Honda Civic, even at 2:00 a.m. on weekend nights (when there are no such places) for five bucks, which entitles you to two and a half hours in Jerry's. Which you will need, even if you order just a sandwich. Yeah, we've heard the beefing about Jerry's high prices, but you know what? Jerry's sandwiches are the size of two normal sandwiches (three normal sandwiches if you order the #10 triple-decker with roast turkey, Swiss cheese, pastrami, and Russian dressing). Other good eats: intensely poultry-rich chicken soup with matzo balls, cold beet borscht, hearty sweet/sour cabbage/tomato soup with short ribs, shredded crispy onion rings, foamy-headed chocolate creams. Also lox, onions, and soft-scrambled eggs, a breakfast dish that, like all breakfast items, is more satisfying when ending a day at 3:00 a.m. than beginning one at 7:00.
Readers Choice: Dennys
Restaurants rarely make their own bread (so much easier to source it from a good bakery), and those that do frequently limit their production to one or two specialties. Not so Bizcaya Grill. Maybe it's because, given its location in the Ritz-Carlton Coconut Grove, it has the space and resources to do it. No doubt having an overnight baker helps as well. But whatever the reason, the results are what you can count on, or depending on your mood, count calories on: fresh-baked Danish pastries and muffins for breakfast. Pain du chocolate and croissants at Sunday brunch. Parmesan buns and lemon brioche to partner burgers and fish sandwiches, respectively, for the midday meal. And at dinner the piéce de resistance -- pretzel bread dotted with coarse salt or pumpkin seeds. The object, of course, is not to eat so much of the bread that you have no appetite for the foie gras served with a shot of vinegar or the black-and-white rabbit cannelloni. But then, we were never ones to shy away from a challenge.
Readers Choice: Don Pan
Barton G, how we love ya. For your style, certainly: You took the Starfish building, gutted it, built out the interior, and created an undeniably stunning venue, complete with orchid garden. For your way with fresh flowers and exotic animals, obviously -- don't think we've ever seen the combination of just-plucked lilies in a wall of bud vases and live giraffes at an opening before. For your sense of humor, most definitely; of course you should always serve popcorn shrimp spilling out of a movie container onto a bed of, well, popcorn. And for your commitment to your adopted town, positively, absolutely, and completely. We knew what you were after the minute we heard that you were going to add a restaurant to your empire of design and catering concepts, you party magnate, you: total adoration. You've got it. It's no more than what a workaholic, first-time restaurateur who has the confidence, ego, and guts to put his name on a marquee -- and then live up to it -- deserves.
It's not the bread. It's not the toppings. It's not even the tartar sauce, though when it's homemade it can only help. The ineluctable element that makes a fish sandwich worthy of wonder is the fish itself: fresh, moist, and succulent, drawn straight from the water and filleted. When it comes to that core ingredient, there's no one we appreciate more than Capt. Jim Hanson, lifelong Miami resident and veteran commercial fisherman. At his seafood market-cum-quaint-neighborhood eatery, you can request the fish of the day, usually mahi-mahi or grouper, or be as specific as choosing the fillet -- that red snapper, right there -- you want out of the refrigerated cases. Then Captain Jim's staff will fry, grill, broil, or blacken it for you, pop it onto a roll with lettuce, tomato, and coleslaw, and even give you a choice of side dishes with it. We recommend the hush puppies, along with a cold Hurricane Reef Pale Ale.
CARMEN GONZALEZ
CARMEN THE RESTAURANT, 700 Biltmore Way (David William Hotel), Coral Gables, 305-913-1944
The recent opening of Carmen the Restaurant completes a circle for chef/owner Carmen Gonzalez. In 1988, after testing her culinary skills at New York's Quilted Giraffe, Gonzalez left Manhattan for Miami. She landed in Coral Gables and in January 1989 opened her own restaurant, Clowns. New Times, in a praiseworthy review, had this to say: "The menu is on the cutting edge of what food critics are calling 'Americanized Caribbean.' Gonzalez calls it a blend of Southwestern, Caribbean, and California cuisine, but I prefer to call it Carmen-ized -- it's her creation." Clowns didn't survive, but Gonzalez moved on to executive positions at the Miami Club and the Tamarind Bar and Grill. Then she created a successful catering company. Now the lure of the restaurant business has drawn her back -- back to the creative challenge, to the Gables, and to an establishment of her own.
BEST LOCAL LANDMARK
The Biltmore Hotel.
BEST MONTH TO BE IN MIAMI
Any month where the temperature drops below 60 degrees.
BEST CHEAP THRILL
Chicken wings at Flanigan's.
BEST NOT-SO-CHEAP THRILL
Dining in Paris.
BEST PLACE TO SAVOR THE FLAVOR OF MIAMI
The original Casa Lario's.
BEST DINING TREND
Any -- as long as someone else cooks.
BEST NATURAL HIGH
Being in my kitchen.
BEST PICNIC SPOT
Crandon Park.
BEST REASON TO LIVE IN MIAMI
All the wonderful friends and colleagues I've met in my years of living here, and being a part of the culinary community.
RECIPE
ROASTED DUCK TAMALES WITH VINTAGE PORT SAUCE
Yields: Around 20 large or 40 appetizer-size tamales
1 pack corn husks, rinsed and soaked in warm water for one hour
Roast duck:
1 5-pound fresh duckling
1/2 medium onion
1 bouquet garni
1/2 carrot
5 garlic cloves, whole
3 celery stalks
Salt and pepper
Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Rinse duck under cold water and pat dry. Season both inside and out with salt and pepper. Stuff the duck with onion, bouquet garni, carrot, garlic, and celery. Place duck in a cooling rack and roast at 425 for one hour. Lower the temperature to 350 degrees and cook for another 30 minutes or until the inside temperature reaches 160-170. Remove from oven and let it cool. Cut or break duck into 8 pieces (2 breasts) for easier handling. With fingers and knife, separate as much meat from the bones as you can. Then, using just your fingers, tear meat pieces into thin shreds roughly one-half to one inch long (as you would for ropa vieja or pulled pork).
Vintage port sauce:
2 cups vintage port
1 cup red wine vinegar
2 tablespoons shallots, minced
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 cup heavy cream
3 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon chives
Heat 1 tablespoon butter in sauce pan, add shallots and garlic. Cook for 2 minutes. Add port and wine vinegar, reduce by half. Add heavy cream and reduce by half. Finish with remaining butter and chives.
Tamales:
(For the masa)
1/2 cup grilled corn kernels
1 medium Spanish onion
1 cup water
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
6 tablespoons vegetable shortening
1 1/2 cups yellow cornmeal
2 tablespoons honey
Salt and pepper
Purée the corn and onion with water in a food processor. Transfer to a bowl and stir in butter and shortening. Using your fingers, mix in the rest of the ingredients until it all comes together and there are no lumps.
To assemble:
Remove the husks from the water, drain, and lay on paper towels to dry. Tear two 1-inch-wide strips for each tamale to tie them. Lay two husks overlapping on a flat surface; place about 1/3 cup of the masa in the center; place 2 tablespoons of the shredded duck on top. Bring both sides of the husk up over the filling. Twist each end to wrap it up tightly, pushing the mixture to the middle as you tie it up. Steam the tamales covered on a bamboo steamer for 45 minutes. At this point they can be frozen for up to two weeks.
To serve:
Use a paring knife to cut lengthwise across each tamale and push toward the middle to expose filling. Place 2 tablespoons of duck on top and drizzle it with 2 tablespoons of port sauce.
Most conch fritters should be called "conch-flavored fritters," so little actual shellfish is represented. In fact, calling them conch-flavored would even be stretching it since the main taste impressions most of these deep-fried balls leave are: 1) traditional leaden cornmeal batter, no doubt invaluable in Florida's pioneer days when fritters doubled as cannonballs to knock out the Spanish armada; 2) too much too-old grease; and 3) too many chili peppers to mask the taste of too-old grease. At Captain Jim's fish market/eatery, in contrast, the fritter batter is fried puffy-light (like a Spanish churro, Italian zeppole, Seminole fry bread, or AnyStateFairUSA fried dough) in oil almost as fresh as the place's fish. And that is saying something. There are indeed jalapeños for heat, as well as sweet green peppers for crunch, but never enough to overwhelm each fritter's generous haul of big, chewy-yet-tender conch chunks. Each order comes with six fritters, and the only sane reason to not get two or three orders is that you want to save room for Captain Jim's simple but superb shrimp scampi.
Since opening in June 2002, Juliet and Jeffrey Wall's friendly little ice cream parlor just west of South Dixie Highway has been pretty steadily packed with people who appreciate the kind of ice cream they wished they'd had as kids: not air-inflated supermarket swill and not designer gelatos but classic creamy, comforting, country U.S.A.-style stuff with a slightly elastic quality reminiscent of Turkey's justly famous frozen dondurma. There's something for everyone, including a few sugarless flavors, among Wall's almost 30 daily choices: lush vanilla, fresh-fruity mango, bracing lemon sorbet, seriously fudgeholic triple chocolate, even playfully alcoholic (actually alcohol-free) beer-flavored stout ice cream -- best paired with a pretzel cone, one of a half-dozen kinds of cones. You can eat inside the cottage-style establishment, but there's also an outdoor area for nostalgic sorts who quite rightly feel that an old-fashioned American ice cream cone tastes better in a sunny summertime parking lot, licking and chatting with other drive-in patrons.
Readers Choice: Swensens Ice Cream Parlor & Restaurant
A falafel sandwich at either Pita Plus has yet to disappoint: crisp but never greasy, its temperature cooled with delicious hummus and tahini and topped with fresh salad -- and hot sauce if you want to kick it up a notch. Standard Middle Eastern fare like kebabs, kibbe, and gyro are also available at these kosher establishments, as is a fish sandwich named for St. Peter. The Aventura outpost is located in the back of the Loehmann's Plaza, a perfect spot to revive oneself after a strenuous session at the discount clothing emporium, but it's closed on Saturdays. Given the hungry hordes of clubbers and tourists, the South Beach branch is open for biz seven days -- and stays open late.
ROB BOONE
METRO KITCHEN & BAR, 956 Washington Avenue (Hotel Astor), Miami Beach, 305-672-7217
At an early age this Midwesterner had a hunch there was more to life than meat and potatoes. Those instincts drew him to culinary school in Madison, Wisconsin, which led him to the respected Steven Wade's Café in Milwaukee. Then a big break -- working under celebrated chef Charlie Trotter in Chicago. That, in turn, led to several years in Coral Gables with Trotter's former employer, Norman Van Aken. By the time he left Norman's, Boone was the restaurant's chef de cuisine. Next stop: South Beach, where he became executive chef of the extravagantly ambitious pan-Asian experiment called Bambú. Cameron Diaz may have been its celebrity proprietor, but Hotel Astor owner Karim Masri was the main man. Bambú's life was short but intense, and after it closed, Masri installed Boone at the helm of Metro Kitchen & Bar, the instantly popular new restaurant downstairs at the Astor.
BEST PLACE FOR FRESH FRUIT
Tropical Delights in Homestead hands down grows the best and most amazing certified organic fruit. Lots of different and rare things among the crops.
BEST CHEAP THRILL
Jumping the fence really late at night to take a swim in the pool that's next to my Uncle Harold's pad in the Gables. (That would be the Venetian Pool.)
BEST NOT-SO-CHEAP THRILL
Getting caught while attempting the cheap thrill.
BEST PLACE TO SAVOR THE FLAVOR OF MIAMI
Miracle Mile in Coral Gables, for everything from great food, fashion, and a really fine wine store -- Wolfe's Wine Shoppe.
BEST LOCAL LANDMARK
Joe's Stone Crab.
BEST REASON TO LIVE IN MIAMI
My wife and I love it in Miami. We're planning on raising our soon-to-arrive child here. We love that Miami is so diversified, a place for everybody to live and mix with tons of different cultures and people. This city helps keep me creative.
RECIPE
CHOCOLATE AND CARAMEL KYANDE WITH PISTACHIO DIPPING SAUCE
Yields: About 36 pieces
Ingredients for the kyande:
20 ounces milk chocolate
5 ounces dark chocolate
14 ounces whipping cream
7.2 ounces ground hazelnut powder
7 ounces ground pistachios
3.5 ounces clarified butter
1 can of dulce de leche (made from sweetened condensed milk)
10 sheets of phyllo dough
Clarified butter for brushing phyllo dough (approximately H cup)
Powdered sugar for caramelizing
A blowtorch
Kyande preparation:
Toast the hazelnut powder and ground pistachios in a 250-degree oven for 5 to 7 minutes or until toasted. Reserve. Melt the chocolate in a stainless-steel bowl over a double boiler. Remove and add the toasted and reserved ingredients. Slowly drizzle and whisk in the cream and clarified butter and allow mixture to cool to a firm yet pliable room temperature. Then pipe the mixture into quarter-inch-diameter pieces using a pastry bag and pastry tip. Top with a thin line of the dulce de leche. Freeze overnight, then cut into 1-inch pieces. Freeze again.
Cut the phyllo into individual squares (about 4-by-2 inches). Put a piece of the chocolate mixture in the middle of a piece of phyllo, brush phyllo with clarified butter, and wrap and twist the ends to form a piece of candy (kyande). Continue with the rest of the chocolate mixture. Refrigerate for a half-hour when rolled. Dust generously with powdered sugar, caramelize with a blowtorch, and serve accompanied by the dipping sauce.
Ingredients for the pistachio dipping sauce:
2 cups of high-quality pistachio purée
2 cups crème anglaise
Blend above ingredients thoroughly.
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