Eat & Drink

Nothing is more exciting than seeing the clock strike 5 p.m. when you’re at work. You and your fellow employees dash to the front door of the office, elbow anyone who gets in your way, and head out in search of libation. We suggest Sandbar Sports Grill. Not only do the weekday happy hours offer half-priced drinks and appetizers from 4 to 7 p.m., but you can also catch almost any game on one of 26 TV sets. Sure, you might run into some UM frat bros on Thursday college nights, but the $3 bottled beer specials are worth it. The home of the fish taco also offers specials on the weekends. Grab a few $3.75 bloody marys on Saturdays and Sundays, or bring your paycheck stub in on Sundays to get 50 percent off your tab.

Though the Wynwood Arts District has evolved greatly in the past few years, its main strip has always been devoid of one key feature of any worthwhile neighborhood: a decent, no-nonsense, old-fashioned bar. Not to disrespect the venues serving drinks in the artsy area, but sometimes you just want to walk into a place with a 20-dollar bill in your pocket and leave with a few drinks in your gut. Thankfully, there’s Wood Tavern. And tavern indeed is the perfect descriptor for this place, with wooden, brick, and plaid walls. There’s also a buffalo head, a leprechaun statuette, and a profusion of comfy, vintage couches. Although it only opened this past December, the place has an air of familiarity. Of course, the sanely priced drinks including a pleasing selection of craft beers and signature cocktails, made us want to stick around. Forget familiarity, Wood is basically now our new best friend in Wynwood.

When you’re looking for the velvet-rope experience without the South Beach parking hassle, Justin’s Bar & Lounge has you covered. Promoted on Power 96 and El Zol 95, the club celebrates house, salsa, merengue, bachata, Top 40, hip-hop, and sports. The place offers ice-cold mojitos, a burning-hot dance floor, and VIP tables for very special bottle service (with $150 Grey Goose and Johnny Walker Black bottles). On weeknights, you can shoot a game of stick at the pool table, enjoy two-for-one drinks from 7 to 10 p.m., and get in with no cover charge. On Fridays and Saturdays, ladies enter free till midnight, dudes get in for $10 to $20, and the joint is packed with sexy Latinas, exotic Russian beauties, hombres, and Israeli playboys. Whether it’s DJ Dudu, Berdugo, Empire, or E-Feezy on the decks, the music bangs, the people dance, and the liquor flows. Now that’s what we call boozin’.

From the moment you buy your first brew, you half expect the other beer guzzlers to start chanting, “Chug, chug, chug, chug!” Owned by former Miami Hurricanes quarterback Craig Erickson, Hole in the Wall is a no-frills joint reminiscent of a college fraternity house’s rec room. The décor consists of wood stools, benches, flat-screen TV sets, and a Galaga arcade game. There are also a couple of tables outside the entrance. Hole in the Wall is the spot to drink beer — and not any of those fancy microbrews either. Here, it’s a steady stream of PBR, Budweiser, Miller Lite, and Yuengling. But connoisseurs can still get Guinness or Grolsch. The prices are hard to beat. Domestics run from $1.50 to $4 a glass, while imports go for $3.50 to $6. And you’re gonna need a lot of cold lagers or ales to wash down the scrumptious chicken wings doused in Frank’s RedHot sauce. A ten-wing platter costs $9. Or pig out on a 50-wing platter for $45 while watching the game with your friends. Hole in the Wall is open seven days a week from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m.

It was after midnight on a recent Saturday when we found ourselves playing some eight ball and knocking back shots of Jägermeister as White Snake’s “Here I Go Again” bumped through the loudspeakers. Cigarette smoke wafted through the Billiard Club, a strip-mall bar and sports lounge that has been happily serving the hard-working, hard-drinking middle-class residents of Miami Lakes, west Hialeah, and Hialeah Gardens for the past 13 years. The vibe is so chill you won’t be surprised when you strike up a friendly conversation with owner Peter Tesser and he rewards you and your party with a round of drinks. He’s the type of guy who wants all of his customers to feel like they are visiting a relative’s house to watch the big game or fight. Flat-screens hanging at the main bar and over the pool tables show pay-per-view sporting events every weekend with little or no cover charge. Drinks are moderately priced. A glass or bottle of beer won’t cost you more than $6, and a stiff drink will set you back no more than $10. A full-service kitchen cooks up popular bar food items plus burgers, chicken wings, and a New York strip steak that’ll melt in your mouth. The Billiard Club opens at 4 p.m. daily. Last call is at 3 a.m. on weekdays and 4 a.m. on weekends.

When Miami Ink’s celebrity tattoo artists Ami James and Chris Nuñez opened a lounge, we figured we would either love it or hate it. Which is kind of the idea at Love/Hate. There’s certainly no indifference toward the tattoo-inspired art lurking in every shadow, the leatherette banquettes, the stripper pole in the corner of the room, or the homage to motorcycle culture. Indeed, this tiny lounge feels like a motorcycle dive bar that suddenly came into an inheritance. Like a relationship that alternates between extremes, Love/Hate changes during the night. In the evenings, the atmosphere is laid-back with tastefully inked men and women drinking bourbons and beer. As the night progresses toward dawn, the vibe turns club-like, with local DJs spinning hip-hop and house music. Because there’s no cover or velvet rope, the atmosphere reeks of easygoing fun. We’re not sure, but Love/Hate might have an invisible force field that repels the douchier element of SoBe nightlife.

We have two words for you: alcohol and alligators. Sounds like a recipe for a good time, doesn’t it? This corner joint in historic downtown Homestead is the most happening spot in the city, and with good reason. First, there’s cheap alcohol. We don’t remember much from the few (um, maybe several) times we’ve been to Stick & Stein Sports Rock Cafe, but we do recall picking up a couple of shots and beers for less than $15 and a pitcher of domestic beer for only $8.50. Second, there’s a tank of live alligators watching your every move. OK, maybe not watching as much as floating around looking awesome. Third, the varied jukebox selection reflects the diversified clientele; choose from tunes by the likes of Lil Wayne, Pink, Santana, and Lynyrd Skynyrd. Fourth, play some pool on regulation-size tables, or stroll through the connecting passageway to the Fat Monkey Bar for some karaoke. Fifth, there’s no dress code and no cover charge, plus there’s free parking. And finally, if you get a bit sloshed, sober up with some pretty decent bar food, served late. After visiting Stick & Stein, you might start thinking there’s no place like Homestead.

Like a cocktail, there’s a recipe for making the perfect bartender: Mix one part mad scientist, one part psychiatrist, and one part artist and serve with a side of humor. Gabriel Orta fits the recipe exactly. One-half of the team that started the recently closed pop-up, Broken Shaker (the other half is Elad Zvi), Orta doesn’t just make cocktails. He lives them. Like Willy Wonka in the chocolate factory, Orta has a sense of wonderment and glee in his eyes when he mixes a drink. Every ingredient is a potential component of the next perfect libation — fresh rosemary, apples, bourbon. When you’re at Orta’s bar, there’s a feeling you’re about to be handed something you’ve never tasted before, something new. Even an old-fashioned gets jazzed up with custom-made ice, fresh herbs snipped straight from his garden, and a slice of fragrant orange peeled before your eyes. The result is a drink that’s crafted, not simply mixed. We believe him when he tells us not to order our usual rum and Coke or that he’s made our margarita with jalapeño-infused tequila. He doesn’t just make the drink; he is the drink. Orta is summering in New York City but plans to open a permanent bar in Miami Beach this fall.

Buying pants is such a mission, you guys. Dios mío, ayúdame. It’s like we find one pair and they’re a really chic color that we just totally saw in Vogue, but then they make our butt look big, and not even in a good, Jennifer Lopez kind of way. Then we find a pair that makes our legs look like they’ve achieved supermodel status, but they have these ridiculously outdated cargo pockets. It’s a nightmare, which is why we don’t understand why more people don’t drink at malls. Of course, then we realize that the bar selection at most malls stinks. Thank heaven Aventura Mall is home to Grill on the Alley. We mean, yeah, yeah, it’s a good restaurant, but we can barely fit into the pants we’re trying on anyway. Just take us straight to the bar. It’s classy with an old Hollywood décor and has a damn good happy hour. We’ll take an Ohrangarita followed by a vodka açaí lemonade. Then we’ll try to decide on some pants.

Living in Miami sometimes feels like fighting a failing battle against collective amnesia. Every couple of months, nightclubs shut down and reopen under new names. Politicians come and go with the tide, leaving the city a bit dirtier each time. Hell, even our baseball team has a new name, stadium, and uniform. But if there’s one place that we go to remember, it’s the neighborhood bar. That’s why there is nothing scarier to a barfly than the word renovation. Countless watering holes have closed for “renovation” only to never reopen or, worse, transmogrify into cocktail lounges full of black lights but with no draft beer. So imagine our terror when the Abbey Brewing Co. — one of the only good bars in Miami Beach — announced it would shut down for several months beginning last September. Thank Bacchus that when the place finally reopened this February, it was still recognizably the Abbey. In fact, owner Raymond Rigazio simply expanded the place. It’s still a comfortable wood-lined cave where you can chat up a stranger or sip away your sorrows, but new ventilation and lighting mean it’s a bit brighter and less smoky. The same laid-back bartenders still pour 13 different beers on tap, including the aptly named Immaculate IPA. But now you can actually find a place to sit. Plus there’s room to throw darts without grazing customers as they pass through the doorway. So sidle up to the trusty old bar — made out of a shuffleboard table — or the new 14-foot bench put together with recycled Miami Dade pine, and have a drink. Each pint is a Pyrrhic victory over the powers of forgetfulness.

In the not-yet-gentrified neighborhood that the Corner calls home, you might mistake the dark bar for a place to get some five-buck hooch or a PBR and call it a night. But this little place deceives the eye and casts a spell. “Step inside, my pretty, and taste my delicious cocktails,” this siren of a bar calls to you, and you obey. What? A bar is speaking? Of course! Haven’t you heard of the term speakeasy? Once inside, you’re teleported to a dimension where bartenders wear vests and make classic cocktails using spirits such as moonshine, white whiskey, and absinthe. You’re not in Miami; you’re in the “Cocktail Zone.” Since you’re here, you might as well have a drink, so you peruse the menus pasted on cedar planks. There are two listings — one for classic post-Prohibition cocktails and another for new inventions. Each libation sets a mood. There’s the Death in the Afternoon, a fragrant but potentially lethal blend of absinthe and champagne invented by the brilliant (and suicidal) Ernest Hemingway. Or try the Whitey on the Moon, a newly made-up fantasy of Death’s Door White Whisky, cloves, milk, and lemon zest. Only here can a cocktail made with “death” taste like heaven. Looking for something a little more festive? How about the Cham Wow, a mix of champagne, muddled raspberries, vodka, and lemon juice? It’s what bartender Chris Funk calls a “panty dropper” because of its deceptively innocent pink color. The Corner is whispering to you to try another of its wonderful drinks. Around $13 per crafted cocktail, it’s a safe bet you’ll be back.

This past year gave birth to the “pop-up” in Miami, the temporary-restaurant phenomenon that began in larger culinary communities such as New York, Los Angeles, and London. (Even Thomas Keller got into the spirit with his ten-day pop-up version of French Laundry inside Harrods department store). First came Phuc Yea!, next the Broken Shaker, and then Eating House. Plus there were a bunch of pop-up dinners featuring an assortment of chef swapping and special-tasting menus. Although there is an increasing trend toward thoughtful cocktail consumption, the Broken Shaker boys did it better, making their own ginger beer — swirling cucumbers, fennel, and gin to become punch-ified — and perfecting classics like the Manhattan. Cofounders Elad Zvi and Gabriel Orta have a true passion for mixology that reinvents the cocktail wheel. They built everything at the Broken Shaker — which closed May 24 — with their own hands. The interior space was homey, and the garden offered comfy couches and twinkling lights under starry skies. No guest list, no attitude, no lines. The place was much like a lover you might meet during aimless summertime travels. It’s difficult to give your heart to someone (or something) that you know in advance will leave. Yet this place claimed our love, and thus we memorialize our favorite pop-up, the Broken Shaker.

The Local is not only a great little neighborhood bar (it has 24 beers on tap) but also a damn good place to grab a bite. This is not the standard parade of chicken wings and sliders. The menu instead offers a well-thought-out mix of globally influenced dishes dressed in gastropub garb. Seasonal specials are updated daily, and chef de cuisine Vince Tien prefers that the food be procured locally whenever possible. Florida grouper is deep-fried for a traditional take on fish ‘n’ chips ($14) and then served with hand-cut thick fries and a dill tartar sauce for dipping. A bowl of steamed mussels ($13) is packed with chunks of cured pork belly and surrounded by a pool of “mushroom miso beurre fondue.” We love the sticky gochujan glazed ribs ($14) topped with “chopped kimchee nuts” and scallions, and the glazed doughnut bread pudding ($8) with salted caramel and a brown butter crème anglaise. We can’t say enough about the Local’s love of pleasing patrons. On a recent visit, a dish that we ordered failed to arrive. Executive sous-chef Paul Cantrell appeared from the kitchen to apologize profusely when it showed up on our bill, and then he raced to follow us outside as we left, with free drink tickets in hand for our next visit. We can’t remember another white coat ever following us into the street.

The Standard Hotel’s Sunset Cocktails happy hour runs Monday through Friday from 5 to 8 p.m. at the Lido Restaurant & Bayside Grill. It’s a dockside respite from what would otherwise be considered a yoga- and health-centric hotel. There is a wide-scope view of the water where you can enjoy happy hour as the sky gently shifts from day to evening. Although the shots here usually involve wheatgrass and ginger, we like to load up on limoncello, lychee martinis, and the Arnold Palmer of frozen drinks — Lido’s layered mix of a strawberry daiquiri and piña colada (just ask for it!). Everything by the glass (including wine and beer) is offered at half-price, and for some strange reason, the French fries are addictive. This past April marked the first anniversary of Gold Dust Lounge’s weekly sunset gig at Lido on Friday nights, when there’s jazzy surf music to sway by. The best part: The Standard is a bit off the beaten trail, so you’ll see local patrons rather than tourists gathered around long tables shielded under a canopy of umbrellas. It’s an ideal spot to casually enjoy the moment. Come happy hour, we’ll be at the Standard, waterside. No, you can’t sit at our table. Get your own.

Easily the largest outpost of the local mini-empire, Finnegan’s River doesn’t resemble sister locations Finnegan’s Too and Finnegan’s Way or any other sports bar we’ve visited. The draw here isn’t the game but the massive patio, which boasts 400 feet of Miami River frontage and one of the most dynamic views of downtown you can get without condo access. Yet rare is the night that ample seating isn’t available at the patio’s four-sided central bar (which easily seats 50-plus) or that there’s anyone occupying its attractive heated pool. The beer, liquor, and food are solid, and you’re virtually guaranteed spectacular views, quick refills of that pint, and your own public yet oddly private pool party. Come at dusk, when police boats and commercial trawlers head home and the Miami Tower’s hues illuminate the horizon. You’ll imagine melodramatic Jan Hammer synthesizers scoring your own personal episode of Miami Vice.

Plopped on a working-class section of NW Seventh Avenue, this place looks like some kind of cheap theme-park castle. And from the street, it might even seem to be closed, because the main gate is permanently barricaded and the back door is always locked. But just ring the bell, and the barmaid will grant you entry to the kingdom. It’s fun and low-key, and the drinks are cheap. It’s our kind of regal. So if King Arthur were still roaming the wilderness, waving around Excalibur, and getting wasted with his knightly buddies, Round Table Sports Bar & Lounge would probably be his favorite place to watch the World Cup of Jousting. He’d down a dozen $1.75 PBRs, dine on a $6 chunk of Captain Greg’s smoked fish, and collect on an entire afternoon’s worth of winning bets.

Great moments in coffee history:

1669: Louis XIV sends a single coffee seedling to Martinique, which begins the spread of the beverage through Central and South America.1670: Dutch introduce coffee to America. 1688: First coffeehouse opened in London by Edward Lloyd, who would later build the insurance giant Lloyd’s of London.1878: Sanborn & Chase introduce coffee in tin cans.1901: First instant coffee sold (later marketed as Nescafé in 1939).1903: First decaffeinated coffee hits stores.2011: By-the-cup coffee shops open in Miami. There’s not one, but three excellent places: Panther Coffee, Alaska Coffee Roasting Co., and Eternity Coffee Roasters. It’s a worthy trio through and through; we give an edge to Eternity because we like the single-origin beans it uses, from the mountains of Kenya, Colombia, and Ethiopia (flavor notes for each bean are noted) — and, ultimately, we’re enamored with the smooth, potent, nonacidic flavor of the finished brew. The beans are roasted in-house and prepared using the pour-over method — first they wet the filter with hot water, next the beans are ground, and then the water is poured ever so slowly into the coffee and filter, which rests in a glass funnel cone. Depending upon which bean you choose, the price of a calibrated 12-ounce cup is between $2.75 and $5.50; most are in the $3 range. Double espressos are exceptional as well ($2.85). Tables, chairs, and a long comfy couch are scattered about in the spacious room, which has free Wi-Fi. Desserts are tasty too, but it’s the historically delectable cup of joe that brings us here again and again.

“Una croquetica, por favor. And while you’re at it, mami, get me four of those cream-cheese-stuffed pastelitos de queso, some meaty chicharrones, five of those killer beef empanadas, a freshly squeezed orange juice, and three café con leches. No, it’s all right, I’ll wait. I know you’re busy. I’ll just stand here next to abuelo and contemplate why your bakery is usually standing room only while the Starbucks in the same shopping center is practically empty. Hell, no matter how long the wait, people come in all day long to order Cuban delicacies. Maybe, just maybe, the delectable recipes and undeniable authenticity put one over on corporate America and the gentrification that seems to be taking over every other bakery in the 305. Or maybe I’ll just stand here and rejoice in the fact that I can take my grandparents and tía out to breakfast on this resplendent Sunday morning and spend only 15 bucks.

The finest seafood in Miami does not arrive on a porcelain plate in some glimmering South Beach dining room. It’s served fresh and spicy under Las Delicias Peruanas’ flickering fluorescent lights. This place might look a bit like a Third-World dive bar, nearly hidden in a Soviet-style gray building in Wynwood. But the food is first-class. Of course, as in any good seafood joint, you can’t go wrong with the ceviche. Las Delicias serves it half a dozen ways — fish, shrimp, octopus, mixed shellfish, and various combinations — all of them doused in tart, spicy sauce. The price for a large plate is $11.99 to $13.99. For an extra $6, you can get the ceviche mixto tricolor — a giant, decorative, and tasty mélange of sea creatures served with three spicy salsas. Las Delicias is open daily from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. For ordering purposes, it helps to speak Spanish. We recommend Friday and Saturday nights, when you can slug Coronitas and sing karaoke as you recover from overindulging in ceviche.

The folks at Foxhole call it an “upscale locals’ joint.” Strange to see the words upscale and joint together in a sentence, but that is exactly what Foxhole is, a slightly classed-up version of the coolest lowbrow bar that happens to be located in South Beach. This bi-level fun house has it all — throwback ’80s videogames, including Galaga and Miss Pac-Man (we dig that chick; she’s fast), as well as classic bar staples like pool and darts. There’s a high-techno gadget jukebox, comfy banquettes, and a big bar you can approach from all sides (cocktail traffic control is key). Bottle service can be arranged upon request, but there’s a strict no-attitude policy. If you show up to drink, you are welcomed; it doesn’t matter if you are a toad or a Euro-supermodel. We love that Foxhole is open seven days a week and that the drink lineup suits everyone, offering both creative cocktails and about 30 beers. You’ll have to seek out the unmarked entrance, though; it’s in an alley between Alton Road and West Avenue. Look for the lamp and consider it an adventurous lesson in game hunting.

The last time this much mystery surrounded a plate of French fries, Nancy Drew was trying to solve the Case of the Freshman Fifteen. This year, for about the price of a paperback ($10), local sleuths can try their hand at figuring out how the fries at the Federal are so darn good. Lean on the server, and he might admit they are hand-cut and soaked in a preparation before being lightly fried. Sweet-talk the bartender and she might spill that the fries are left to sit for a while before being refried for the customer. But isn’t it a little suspicious that chef Cesar Zapata knew to prepare them before they were even ordered? And what about the proprietary blend of herbs and spices, nuanced enough to make Lowry’s seem like lye? How to account for the fried Lake Meadow egg laid across the top, just runny enough to glaze the spuds when a knife plunges into the heart of the yolk? Or the chilled ketchup that calms the edges of the seasoning while also making for a strange temperature speedball? Sure, Zapata will fess up that the ketchup is a twist on a generations-old family recipe, but isn’t it a little suspicious that his great-grandfather knew the recipe and is now dead? The menu says “Townpark Fries,” but maybe it should read “murder.”

Sal Corelli prides himself on being the best small-time scam artist around. He crashes weddings, bails after eating at hotel breakfast buffets, and so forth. But Sal recently pulled off what he refers to as his “biggest heist yet.” It occurred at Lolita Cocina & Tequila Bar, located at the southernmost tip of South Beach. Lolita is a Mexican restaurant with “burlesque-inspired dining.” Its red-velvet-embossed walls, gothic candelabras, and studded black leather couches bespeak a place that wants its guests to have fun. So as soon as Sal sat down, he was brought a complimentary bowl of grapefruit-mint granitas.

“Would you like a shot of tequila on top of that?” asked the waiter. “Make it a double,” replied Sal. And that’s what the server did. Soon, a basket of fresh corn chips, still warm from the fryer, was left on the table along with three zesty dips and a homemade mango-habanero hot sauce. He polished off everything quickly and was promptly brought refills — without even having to ask. After finishing the second basket, Sal confided to the waiter that he wasn’t feeling so well. “Maybe a soft drink would help,” Sal said. “I’ll try a Coke.” Normally he would have stuck with tap water, but while scoping out Lolita, he had noticed that a giant wad of cotton candy was presented with every bill. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave prematurely,” he lamented after downing the Coke. “I’ll take the check.” Sure, he got away with lots to eat for little money, but most of Lolita’s non-entrée items range from just $9 to $16 — and they’re much tastier than you might expect from a restaurant that’s ultimately about having a good time.

Have you ever had pico de gallo? No, not the tomato, cilantro, and garlic concoction typical in most Mexican kitchens. We mean the fruit version — mango, jícama, cucumber, pineapple, watermelon, and any other fruit seasoned with loads of chili powder and fresh lime juice. Are your salivary glands getting worked up? They should be. This is the type of thing you can find nowhere else in South Florida except at the Redland Farmers’ Market. It includes a myriad of open-air booths that sell fruits, vegetables, prepared foods, boots, hats, and belts. It’s like walking into Mexico — only better, because you don’t need your passport. You don’t need to speak Spanish either. The vendors either know English or are more than willing to gesture a price or negotiation. After perusing the aisles of ripe fruits and veggies, sit down for a few tacos from the food truck that calls the market home. Handmade tortillas and corn hot off the grill await you. Órale, pues.

Salsa Fiesta likes to bill itself as healthful and eco-friendly, but honestly, when tacos are on your mind, concerns about the next doctor’s visit or the plight of our natural resources aren’t really important. It’s time to chow down. Luckily, the tacos at Salsa Fiesta deliver. The Venezuelan import offers four types of shells that range from whole wheat to crisp corn. From there, you can choose five types of flesh, including fish and carnitas, or the veggie option. Most taco joints would stop at this juncture, but Salsa Fiesta offers ultimate taco customization with four mixes. Try the Macho Taco, which comes with black beans, or the Guerrero Taco, which features mango salad topped with creamy cilantro. The homemade salsa bar offers many finishing touches. The fact that Salsa Fiesta uses fresh and nutritious ingredients and green practices will make you feel a bit better after gorging yourself.

For a tasty burrito that’s the size of an NFL football and is made with only the freshest ingredients, this Doral hot spot can’t be beat. These Mexi-behemoths are all priced at under $8, and the choices are seemingly endless. You got your three kinds of beef — shredded, ground, and grilled. Then you got your pork and chicken. Now add your choice of cheese, beans, lettuce, peppers, sour cream, cilantro, onions, tomatoes, jalapeños, salsa, perfectly ripened avocado slices, and of course, the best guacamole outside of Homestead. There are some other ingredients available, but we got hungry before we could finish reading the menu and ordered a burrito. Our bad.

The other stuff this produce stand sells is also awesome. Its milkshakes look pretty otherworldly. But we don’t trek to the Redland that often. And when we do, our brain fixates on only one thing: the ridiculous glory of the strawberry sundaes of Burr’s Berry Farm. Priced at $5.35, they are roughly the size of your head, but to share one is sacrilege. Smooth vanilla ice cream comes covered in freshly picked strawberries in a concentrated syrup. How to describe the flavor and potency of this syrup? If Mike Tyson were a strawberry, this is what his punches would feel like. You’ll get several brain freezes. There will be a moment when you envision the disapproving frown of your cardiologist. But in the end, you will scrape your plastic bowl clean. And then you’ll think about this sundae for weeks, until the next time you swerve into the dirt parking lot of Burr’s Berry Farm. (Hours are 9 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. daily from December to early May.)

Anybody can scoop good gelato from a tub, but it takes a master to produce the stuff. Ritchie Espejo has more than 20 years of experience making fine ice cream, and for a good deal of that time he has been supplying Perricone’s Marketplace & Café. At Amore Gelato, his storefront operation next door to the legendary restaurant, he tests new flavors and makes daily batches of proven hits. Though many of his varieties are listed on the menus of other shops, the gelato’s boldness of flavor and texture is all Ritchie’s own. Not long ago, he created a passionfruit and rose-hip version for a wedding. Area chefs regularly ask him to come up with something special; they even go so far as to build dishes around his olive oil gelato. Waffle cones start at $4.50, a dollar more than cups, but it’s worth it to do your part for the environment and to have a hand free for gelato-inspired gesticulation. Of the daily flavors, it’s tough to beat the dulce de leche, but a combination of the salted caramel and fior de latte has a nice interplay of savory and sweet and will make you feel more like a gourmand than anyone licking something in public ought to have the right to.

If you want a way to satisfy your sweet tooth, look no further. LA Sweets’ owners, Letty Alvarez and Eddie Dominguez, have just the thing to send you over the edge. This isn’t your average cupcake shop. The pair bakes every type of cupcake imaginable. There are 114 flavors, so you’ll find what you’re craving — at a price of just $1.25 each. And they can custom-make everything from regular mini-cupcakes to cupcake towers. Two of the more popular ones are the Southern red velvet — which is finished off with delicious cream-cheese buttercream frosting — and the guava, also topped with cream-cheese buttercream frosting. And if there’s something you’d like to see on the menu, they’re open to suggestions.

First you start with that bread, all fresh and soft. Doesn’t matter if it’s Italian or ciabatta. Then you get that deli meat — big, generous piles. Yeah, that’s the stuff. Now, just a bit of cheese. Uh-huh. OK, now it’s time for the vegetables. Everything you could imagine. Pile ’em on. You know, I like those ruby-red tomatoes. Fantastic. Go ahead and put the sauces on too. A little creamy mayo, mustard. Sure, squirt some oil and vinegar on there. Now grill it. Make it all hot and panini-like for me. Yeah, Café Bonjour, that’s a sandwich. Here’s your $8.95 and a tip. No, I don’t think I’ll need chips on the side. This sandwich is all I desire. Where are the napkins?

At the table next to yours, the men are talking about the perfect salsa dance partner. Your friend knows Cuban slang, so he translates: “She’s cool without being cold; firm with just a little bit of —” and he searches for the word before coming up with “jiggle.” The men dance alone to their cars without getting dessert; if they had, they might have found what they were looking for in the flan. Casa Larios makes five types of it: flan de leche, flan de queso, flan de mamey, flan de coco, and flan de calabaza ($4.25 each, and the last two are made only at the South Miami location). All are drizzled with a house-made caramel sauce that pools on the flan’s flat top and about its round base, just enough for a kick of sweetness. She’s not saucy, the flan, because she doesn’t need to be. The queso version has a savory earthiness that contrasts well with the caramel, and the mamey variety shifts on the tongue along with the complexities of the fruit. But the standard-bearing flan de leche deserves special mention for its mellow, yolky color and pliancy against the edge of a spoon without the shiny wobble that dooms many renditions. The flan at Casa Larios isn’t much for dancing, but it’s about as good a time as possible while sitting.

Michelle Bernstein’s original baby in MiMo has established the chef as one of Florida’s finest and most famous. Her “luxurious comfort food” appeals to hungry locals and Food Network fans alike with amazing savories such as sweetbreads, short ribs, and those Serrano ham and blue cheese croquetas with fig marmalade that have become almost as well-known as Bernstein. Although pastry chefs have come and gone at the restaurant, the sweetest surprise is that the desserts are always consistent and incredible — worth the calories no matter who is wearing the toque. For years we’ve been having a love affair with the fluffy bread pudding and baked Alaska, which have reached iconic status. The bread pudding is soaked in cognac and loaded with raisins and chunks of chocolate. A little orange rind cuts through the richness, and vanilla ice cream becomes a slowly melting puddle on top. Chocolate croquetas with a spicy pot de crème for dipping are long, thin, crisp cylinders, more refined than their counterpart churros at Bernstein’s Sra. Martinez. Whether it’s deep-fried fruit pie or coconut hibiscus panna cotta with citrus salad and shaved coconut, Michy’s desserts ($9 apiece) are a sweet success. The pièce de résistance is the baked Alaska, a layered symphony of flavors beneath a fluffy canopy of lightly browned meringue. This treat’s dense pistachio cake is not unlike banana bread, and dollops of tart passionfruit and mango salsa in the corners of the plate add color and tang. Dulce de leche ice cream surpasses any Neapolitan or vanilla filler we’ve come across, so expect a happy ending every time (the dessert-fairy-tale kind, not the other kind).

A drinking establishment is the last place you would expect to find delicious key lime pie, but the Bar in Coral Gables has just that. For $6.50 (tax included) per slice, or $25 for a whole pie, the chef in back will whip up one with fresh ingredients. The result is a tangy, sweet, delicious, and fluffy confection that pairs well with an array of tasty appetizers, sandwiches, salads, burgers, and chicken wings. In true dive-bar fashion, shove a whole wedge in your mouth and wash it down with a beer from the Bar’s good craft brew selection.

It’s a small shop just off Lincoln Road. In fact, it’s very easy to miss the Frieze. But that would be a real shame, because it makes the best ice cream in town. Everything is homemade using 16 percent buttercream. The Frieze produces it all without any artificial colors or preservatives, so there’s no misleading sugar mischief; the sorbets are made with real fruit and purified water. What makes this “ice cream factory” our winner is the creative range of its inventions. Consider the Nuttiest Buddy (peanut butter ice cream loaded with chocolate chips, fudge, and nuts) or the Banana Wafer (a banana base with vanilla wafer cookies, inspired by Elvis’s preferred snack). They also offer the basics such as vanilla, strawberry, and pistachio, but we usually go for more interesting options like green tea, key lime pie, and Jamaican Blue Mountain chip, a heady coffee ice cream. If you can resist the smell of fresh waffle cones, let one of the friendly employees make you a sundae topped with hot fudge, caramel, butterscotch, or cherry syrup. The Frieze also churns out fantastic malts, floats, and milkshakes. And if it’s your birthday, there are specially designed ice-cream cakes to go.

It may be cruel to say, but we didn’t lose as many nostalgic favorites during the past year as usual. Chef Allen’s Seafood Grill and Joe Allen called it quits before the last “Best of Miami” issue came out, so they don’t count. Naoe’s closure would normally have left us inconsolable, but Kevin Cory is reopening his omakase oasis on Brickell Key. The loss of Charlotte Bistro would hurt more too if we didn’t know that Elida Villarroel was coming back with a new name in the same space. China Grill is also rising again in another location. Corporate-driven hotel restaurants such as Ago, Soleà, Emeril’s, and Norman’s 180 went down for the count, but, quite frankly, nobody was counting. Nor did the subtraction of Eden, Mai Tardi, and the Water Club from our restaurant roster have much impact. But we sure miss House of India. It debuted in Coral Gables in 1975 — that’s seven years before the movie Gandhi was released. But this past March, owner Darshan Singh, faced with rising rent, threw in the towel. The restaurant’s large band of loyal fans will lament the loss of the fresh, authentic Indian and Pakistani cuisine — and we’ll really miss the $12 lunch buffet, one of the best deals around. Singh lives in Fort Lauderdale and is said to be exploring the possibility of opening a House of India there. If so, we’ll surely make the drive, but it won’t fill the gastronomic gap left in the Gables.

Things were looking up for Jacques Ardisson and his daughter Carla Lou. They had decided to close their longtime downtown restaurant Indochine and replace it with LouLou, a French bistro. But the head chef of the new venture left shortly after the conversion, and things went downhill from there. Rather than sit around wringing their hands, they brought in Victor Passalacqua, who trained with guys named Paul Bocuse and Alain Ducasse, and who played a key role in some of Miami’s best restaurants (Le Festival, La Dorada, etc.). The menu was rewritten to include alluring lunchtime specials (sandwich with soup or salad, $9.50; soup, salad, or appetizer with entrée and dessert, $15). The turnaround in cuisine is dramatic. Take the eight-ounce filet mignon with homemade foie gras and haricots verts ($32). It and other dishes — such as mussels in white wine with creamed shallots and herbs, served with house-made pommes frites ($16) — prove LouLou is a whole newnew bistro.

The SLS Miami Beach has been slow to rise from the ashes of endless construction, which leaves us sad. The hotel’s restaurant is the Bazaar by José Andrés. Who’s Andrés? He made Time‘s 2012 list of the 100 most influential people in the world (for running his culinary empire combined with altruistic efforts; he feeds the homeless as well as rich people in D.C., Vegas, and the 90210). The menu remained unconfirmed as of press time, but the existing restaurant at the SLS Hotel in Beverly Hills has us dreaming of what wonders will arrive in Miami. Proteins such as sea urchin (with Andalusian vegetables, $14) and king crab in raspberry vinegar ($20) are canned in-house daily. “Bar selections” venture beyond the usual bites: “Ottoman carrot fritters” with apricot and pistachio sauce ($9); Japanese tacos stuffed with eel, shiso leaf, cucumber, wasabi, and chicharrones ($10); and oxtail steamed buns — the only things required are an open mind and a table of adventuresome eaters. Andrés does traditional tapas as well, and it’s thrilling to be able to describe a chef as traditional and avant-garde all in the same sentence. Mainstays such as codfish fritters ($10) and chicken wings with Spanish green-olive purée ($10) display an obvious nod to tapas lovers’ expectations, yet dishes such as Norwegian lobster with seaweed salad, and a seared veal loin prepared as a tribute to French chef Jacques Maximin ($18) showcase more of a global influence. Designer Philippe Starck is handling the restaurant’s environment, envisioned as a “modern-day, European-inspired, indoor piazza.” We eagerly await the Bazaar’s arrival on South Beach.

The two wooden signs behind glass beckon you with “ice cold beer” and “home cooking.” It’s a pair of messages that brings a warm smile to any weary traveler searching for a hearty meal and a cold one on South Dixie Highway. From the oak booths and tables to the sassy waitstaff, Wagons West has all the charm of a roadside diner on the Blue Ridge Parkway in the Appalachians. Of course, it’s tucked inside a strip mall in ritzy Pinecrest. Brothers Walter and Steve Muench have been serving up all kinds of comfort food since 1981. “We’re like the bar Cheers, where everybody knows your name,” Walter says. “We truly appreciate our customers who’ve made this place such a huge success.” At Wagons West, you can order hotcakes and sausage, farmer’s omelets, or any breakfast plate any time of day. You can’t go wrong with the French toast and crabcakes Benedict, that’s for sure. Among lunch and dinner meals, pick anything from the barbecued spare ribs to the homemade meatloaf to the club sandwich with a side of sweet potato fries. The prices are reasonable; no entrée costs more than $10. Wagons West opens at 6:30 in the morning seven days a week. But on Sundays, the joint closes at 4 in the afternoon. Monday through Saturday, Walter keeps the lights on till 9 p.m.

Sung to the tune of “Margaritaville”:

A shrimp enchilada

Some carne asada

The food at this Mex place is really divine

But along with my meal, uh

I need some tequila

A margarita would really taste fine.

Chorus:

Wastin’ away again in Mercaditoville

Sippin’ margarita tradicional

Some people claim the michelada’s good too

But I know, side-by-side it would pale.

Êl Jimador Blanco

Grand Marnier, fresh lime juice

Plus agave nectar make up the drink

It’ll cost you ten-fifty

Add fruit for one-fifty

Add smoke for three bucks and don’t even blink.

Chorus:

Wastin’ away again in Mercaditoville

Tippling Bros. cocktails are really deelish

Some people say they are the best in town

Bravo! to the mixologish.

Wastin’ away again in Mercaditoville

Pop art on the walls is startin’ to blur

The waitress says that I should head on home

Maybe I best listen to her.

The bloody mary at Barceloneta ($12) is as unique as many of the small plates of Catalan cuisine served at this Spanish bistro. What makes it so is the blending of this cocktail’s traditional ingredients — vodka, tomato juice, and sundry seasonings — with gazpacho, the famed chilled tomato-cucumber soup from Andalusia. The coupling of these refreshing liquids is as explosively spicy as Russell Brand and Katy Perry. Scratch that. The pairing of gazpacho and bloody mary is as inspired as that of Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins. No, wait — it’s as unexpected and sprightly as Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher. Uh, the pastel color and smoothie-like texture of the cocktail are as delightful as Heidi Klum and Seal. Gaah! Barceloneta is a cool neighborhood spot in South Beach where locals sit over all sorts of creative food and drink; there are six variations of gin and tonic alone. But we’re unerringly faithful to the distinctive and delicious bloody mary.

Art deco gem the National Hotel was built in 1939 and, coincidentally, the clock above the bar is stopped at 7:39. For all you conspiracy theorists, 7:39 p.m. is 19:39 in 24-hour time. Legend says the clock stopped there so everyone could go back in time to the golden age of romance and glamour. We say the clock stopped there so it’s always martini time. A gin martini arrives with tiny slivers of ice floating on the surface, like the wings of an angel. A shaker at your side provides you with a few more sips of this perfect elixir. Your body (along with your iPhone) tells you you’re late for a date, but the clock — oh, that clock — says there’s plenty of time for another round.

Yeah, yeah, we know. The mojito is Cuban. And in a city rich in Cuban influences, we chose Tap Tap, a Haitian restaurant, as having the best mojitos. Just calm down for a second and take a long sip of your drink, will ya? Ahhh, now we’re talking. The perfect mixture of sweet and tart, the Tap Tap mojito ($8) is made the old-fashioned way — with freshly muddled mint, pure cane sugar, and squeezed limes (no sucrose-laden mix here). Then, instead of the usual white rum, they add Barbancourt Five-Star Haitian Rhum. This stuff, aged in oak Cognac barrels, gives the mojito depth, character, and one potent kick in the pants. Sorry, Cuba, but with rum so clearly superior, the Haitian mixologists at Tap Tap have beaten you at your own game.

Deep in the vast suburban jungle of Kendall lies chef Adrianne Calvo’s bistro, named for the vineyard she fantasizes about one day owning. Miami is nowhere near Napa, and the closest winemaker doesn’t even use grapes, so you would think the sangria at Chef Adrianne’s Vineyard Restaurant & Wine Bar would be like most sangria in South Florida — a mixture of cheap wine, Juicy Juice, and canned fruit cocktail. It’s no wonder, then, that we were floored to taste Calvo’s nectar of the gods. Her pomegranate sangria is made with fresh organic juice, cognac, wine, and rum. There’s no added sugar, and there’s not a bit of nasty fruit cocktail to clutter your glass. Are you the only person on earth who’s not into pomegranate (or do you simply not want to stain your new veneers)? Chef Calvo also makes a white sangria with passionfruit and white wine. Both are refreshing and cooling with a surprising little kick. Twelve bucks buys a 16-ounce shareable serving.

There’s been a lot of fuss over Cibo Wine Bar’s unusual method of stowing and salvaging bottles of wine. The temperature-controlled glass “cellar” is stocked with an international laundry list of labels. It’s really more of a storage wall, otherwise known as an Enomatic wine dispenser, which allows for dual-temperature control to “modulate temp zones.” This means that when Cibo serves your vino, it should be ideal, whether red or white. When an order is placed, the server enters a corresponding bin number into the computerized system so he or she can select the correct bottle the first time. Retrieval involves hoisting the employee 20 feet into the air via a specially designed hydraulic system (very, very tricky). What we like best about the list is the great range available by the glass, making it possible to create your own wine flight appropriate for menu selections. You can begin with a glass of Veneto prosecco ($9) at the bar and then move on to something white for a seafood starter, such as a 2009 Falanghina from Campania (Vinosia, $9). For heavier, more rustic Italian dishes, you can easily commit to a well-priced 2008 Super Tuscan (Brancaia Tre, $12) or treat yourself to something special, such as Antinori Tignanello, a truly superb 2008 Super Tuscan ($45). What else is there to love? Happy hour, which runs seven days a week from 4 to 7 p.m., offers a rotating selection of wines by the glass or bottle at half the cost. The space, like the food it presents, is designed to evoke a sense of unpretentious sophistication and sincerity. Every detail, piece of furniture, and bite has been finely crafted with quality materials.

It’s 2 o’clock on a listless, sleepy afternoon. Your brain is shutting down as if it were closing time. But you need to get things done. And, as it happens, you’re in the getting-things-done business, so you need a kick. Not just any one, but a good old-fashioned Miami-style café con leche kick. The kind that sends you soaring like a sparrow. So you hit the streets. Sure, you can go to Calle Ocho, but she’s grown stale and hard. She tastes like she’s been left out all night — like death. “Don’t you wanna drink café con leche with me?” she asks. “Not even a little bit,” you answer. So you search elsewhere. And then you find it in the last place you were looking, nestled in a strip mall in North Miami Beach of all places. The joint is called Café Que Rico, and it’s just what you need to get your sugar, milk, and caffeine fix. She’s hot, sweet, and frothy — the kind of froth that begs you to slurp sugary goodness before you’ve even had a chance to judge the coffee’s temperature. That’s a special, delicious kind of danger. And that’s why it’s perfect. The small costs $1.50, and if you’re feeling extra-sluggish, you can buy the large for $2. After all, you know what they say: The larger the craving, the thicker the froth.

Hidden off the street and out of sight, unless you happen to be strolling through the downtown Miami International Jewelry Center mall, Little Lotus sits amid stalls selling flowers, watches, and so forth. Still lost? The place is in the part of the mall directly across the street from Macy’s. The gem: a surprisingly large menu of sushi and small Asian plates from owner Sari Maharani, from Jakarta. Rolls range from $3.95 to $15, which is a great deal. Fancier rolls include creative items such as the “Big Mac” — a crunchy spicy tuna with snow “krab” ($13.95). Other specialties include yaki tori, yaki udon, grilled eel, trigger fish jerky, salad with four types of seaweed, nasi rames (as a nod to the owner’s Indonesian roots), and diced taro in coconut milk syrup for dessert. Lunch specials are just $7.95 and include dishes such as spicy braised beef with coconut, and fried Singapore rice noodles. “Japanese Amazing Lunch” ($8.50 to $13.50) includes sushi, sashimi, or a teriyaki bento box. This 40-seater (with some of the tables lined up in the mall hallway) serves delicious, well-priced Asian fare. Plus if you’re in the Brickell or downtown area, Little Lotus will deliver — meaning they’ll have to find you.

Professor Irving Miller of the American Institute of Enterprising Ideas recently released his groundbreaking thesis titled “5 Key Elements of the Successful Neighborhood Restaurant.” When we caught up with the feisty 73-year-old professor at his favorite eatery, the Federal, we asked why he likes this place so much. His response: “It has all five elements necessary, starting with hospitality. Two of the owners are up front greeting customers and making them feel at home; the other is in the kitchen cooking food that makes them feel at home. Very important. Number two is the ambiance — here it’s rustic, relaxed, and comfortable. Three: Are you writing this down?”

Yes.”Good. Three is the selection of drinks, and the Federal flaunts half a dozen pints of craft draught beers and some hundred bottles of wine solely from family estate producers. And, finally, the food: Jar-o-duck with candied sweet potato and charred marshmallow fluff, Buffalo-style pig wings, and so forth — honest, tasty, accessible, and highly creative.” That’s only four.”Really? Friendly staff, informal environment, great food, drink… Oh, yes, service. Very good service. And free parking in the strip mall lot out front. Crucial for a neighborhood restaurant. Plus the pricing is affordable: smaller plates $6 to $16, larger ones $16 to $36.” That’s seven.”Well, that just goes to show how much the Federal has going for it.”

It is said that you should strike while the iron is hot, and no Miami chef has sizzled with success like Michael Schwartz. Miami’s farm-to-table pioneer and James Beard Award winner has expanded his brand in recent years by way of a cookbook, a pizzeria (Harry’s), an MGF&D in the Cayman Islands, and a project in progress with the Raleigh Hotel. Yet through it all, his original Michael’s Genuine Food & Drink in the Design District hasn’t missed a beat. The indoor and outdoor ambiance remains cool in an unpretentious way, service is professional, and the fresh, well-sourced, seasonally sensitive cuisine continues to impress with honest-to-goodness flavors. Pastry chef Hedy Goldsmith is tops in town, which is why she was nominated for a James Beard Award for Outstanding Pastry Chef this year. Her desserts too are peerless and uniquely innovative — who else pairs a milk chocolate candy bar with buttered popcorn gelato? She also has a cookbook out this year, and we’re pretty certain no other spot in this neighborhood — let alone the state of Florida — can boast two Beard-credentialed chefs with their own cookbooks. There’s a great global wine list, the craft beers are many ($4 and up), and even the RoosRoast Organic Free Speech Coffee, Steven Smith Teamaker’s Tea, and homemade sodas are superior. What else could possibly be great about Michael’s? The prices, which are quite moderate for the city’s most acclaimed dining establishment: Small plates are mostly under $10, medium plates are under $20, and excepting a Harris Ranch New York strip steak, large plates range from $18 to $26. And there’s one more wonder: Sunday brunch from 11 to 2:30.

A year ago in this issue, we praised Jeff McInnis for helming Gigi, arguably 2011’s hottest Miami restaurant. So when McInnis left that midtown establishment to open Yardbird in South Beach with the 50 Eggs Restaurant group, expectations ran high. Judging from crowds overflowing onto the street since opening night, it would seem those hopes have been realized. The cool farmhouse décor is a refreshing change of pace from designs that too often strain to be SoBe hip. American blues music and friendly service synchronize with the hospitable Southern fare. The menu, produced by McInnis and chef de cuisine Phillip Bryant, brims with big homestyle flavors. We’re speaking of dishes such as Brunswick stew with alligator sausage and smoked rabbit, shrimp ‘n’ grits, and Llewellyn’s Fine Fried Chicken with waffles and watermelon. Craft bourbons, beers, and wines are distinctly all-American, as is the overall dining experience. And we’re not the only ones mightily impressed: Yardbird and McInnis were nominated for James Beard Awards this year in the Best New Restaurant and Best Chef, South categories.

Downtown Miami has enjoyed a dining renaissance in recent years. Heavy hitters such as Zuma, Area 31, and DB Bistro Moderne brought star power to the neighborhood while smaller, more casual restaurants such as Tre Italian Bistro, Ceviche 105, and Sparky’s Roadside Barbecue fortified the foundation. Owners Horacio Oliveira and Jennifer Porciello have witnessed it all from La Loggia’s power location right across from the Miami-Dade County Courthouse. Their regional Italian oasis is, among other things, astonishingly consistent. The spaghetti Bolognese, veal scaloppine, and chicken Milanese placed on the table nowadays tastes just as delicious as it was on opening day in 2000. Thin-crust pizzas ($12 to $15), homemade pastas ($13 to $16), and meat/seafood entrées (all under $20) are affordably priced and sumptuously prepared. The ambiance hasn’t changed a whit either. The lofty ceiling, mosaic floors, Roman columns, and frescoed walls still transport diners to Italy. The new kids on the block are worthy and exciting, but this old-guard, old-world charmer is timelessly great.

We have grown comfortable with Ortanique since it opened “on the Mile” in July 1999. So much so that we tend to take it for granted. It’s like a favorite pair of jeans forgotten in the drawer after you buy a succession of new shirts and jackets. Chef/owner Cindy Hutson’s Caribbean-influenced “Cuisine of the Sun” never grows old. Cracked conch with plantain chips ($13), Red Stripe-steamed mussels ($14 small, $18 large), signature jerk chicken penne pasta ($17 lunch, $23 dinner), escovitch whole yellowtail snapper with Scotch bonnet pepper (market price), Bahamian mahi-mahi with lemon-orange boniato sweet plantain mash ($23 lunch, $30 dinner), West Indian-style bouillabaisse in curried coconut broth ($23 lunch, $45 dinner) — let’s face it, you can’t get this sort of fare anywhere else in town. The staff is warm, the décor is set in festive motifs of flowers and ortanique oranges, and the wine list has more gravitas than you’d expect from a modest neighborhood establishment. Cocktails rock too and are $4 off during happy hour (weekdays from 4 to 7 p.m.), which means $7 each. That sure is comfortable.

Like the plume of its eponymous bird, Peacock Garden Café boasts a patio of an almost shockingly bright, colorful fashion. This verdant tropical garden is located on the grounds settled by the Peacock family around 1870 in what became the Village of Coconut Grove. The lush green setting and historic locale make Peacock Garden Café something of a quintessential Grove restaurant — which is just what Lalo Durazo and Oscar del Rivero had in mind when designing the space. Durazo and del Rivero, the team behind the terrific Jaguar Ceviche and Talavera Cocina, this time turned their talents to “garden-inspired” cuisine — and came through once again. The menu includes a soup of the day ($6 Monday through Thursday, $8 Friday through Sunday), a few pastas ($14 to $17), and a great burger and other sandwiches, each accompanied by a choice of tomato salad, celeriac slaw, or skinny fries ($14 to $18). Main courses? Try baby-back ribs, pan-roasted chicken, seared salmon teriyaki, grilled filet mignon, or Black Angus New York steak. Except the steaks ($30 to $32), entrées run $18 to $24. There are beautiful and bountiful salads as well, including a deal called “The Grill and the Garden,” where diners can select any grilled item from the menu (chicken, skirt steak, tuna, shrimp, salmon) and pair it with a salad of choice (Chinese, Greek, niçoise, caesar, or pear/blue cheese). The price for this special runs $16 to $30, depending upon the protein you choose. As you sit at Peacock on a sunny day, perhaps while sipping prosecco, you will surely feel a renewed appreciation for serene Coconut Grove.

The four restaurateurs who own this gem really know what they’re doing. Step inside and you feel as if you’ve been transported to a happening eatery in SoHo or Milan. The air seems to caress your skin, and the low-key background music soothes your tired gray matter. Then you are greeted by one of the charismatic owners or the stunning hostess, who seems to have materialized from the cover of Vogue. When you open the menu, you are astonished that this cozy spot in Calle Ocho’s hopping (yes, we’re calling it now) cultural district offers gourmet delicacies such as pear and Gorgonzola ravioli ($16.95) and a creamy polenta ($10.95) with homemade Bolognese sauce, fresh mozzarella, sautéed mushrooms, and white truffle oil. Choose from the succulent three-hour beef short ribs ($24.95), the seafood mixed grill with scallops the size of a 5-year-old’s fists ($27.95), or the three-hour lamb osso buco, served with one of the most satisfying mushroom risottos you will find anywhere in the city ($25.95). Before you order any of these, though, consider appetizers such as the wood slab with cheese, cold meats, and olives ($15.95) and what might be the most tantalizing ceviche ($10.95) this side of the Keys. And while you are waiting, indulge in one of Catharsis’s signature cocktails — such as a delusion martini ($10) or a refreshing mango mojito made with fresh mango juice ($10) — or maybe a bottle of vino from Italy, Spain, Argentina, Chile, France, California, or Oregon ($29 to $90). Take advantage of Calle Ocho’s free parking after 6 p.m., enjoy the European vibe, and make a night of it by walking to the nearby Tower Theater to catch a foreign flick. Dining at Catharsis is like going away on a minivacation without the TSA strip search.

This quaint neighborhood spot offers what it calls “honest food.” Everything is made in house with a focus on using local ingredients and keeping the food as natural and simple as possible. In its quest to create unassuming and unpretentious dishes, Del Sur offers some of the most flavorful, enjoyable, and gourmet food in South Miami-Dade. There is a full line of both hot and cold appetizers; a mozzarella bar; artisan burgers; pressed sandwiches; hot and cold salads; fresh pastas; an array of grilled items such as steak, sausage, chicken, and fish; freshly baked breads and cakes; and a plethora of pastries and desserts. The hardest part about visiting Del Sur is deciding which of its varied delicacies to order. Try the boquerones ($9.95), made with fresh herbs and roasted garlic and served with slices of homemade baguette. Or the lomito sandwich ($12.95), in which grilled filet mignon, two fried eggs, Parma cotto ham, and Havarti cheese join luscious tomatoes, a fresh spring mix, lemon mayo, and roasted bell peppers between two slices of homemade bread. It all performs a perfect tango on your taste buds. Del Sur also caters to vegetarians with delectable dishes such as artichoke and lemon ravioli with fresh primavera sauce ($11.95) and an out-of-this-world homemade cannelloni stuffed with spinach and ricotta and then topped with pink sauce and mozzarella gratin ($11.95). Desserts include two of the finest anywhere: dulce de leche cheesecake ($3.89) and opera cake ($3.95), which features coffee buttercream and chocolate ganache layered between pieces of almond biscuit. You might want to wash down dessert with a cappuccino or latte, but be sure to take advantage of the craft beers such as Monk in the Trunk and Blue Point Toasted Lager or a boutique wine such as the Luca Malbec. As if the food and drink weren’t tempting enough, the folks at Del Sur are charming, friendly, and willing to chat about recipes, distinctive libations, and local produce.

This tiny, unassuming neighborhood eatery just off Biscayne Boulevard in North Miami has no right to be as good as it is. The menu promises the “best burgers in North Miami,” and they are magnificent. Try the fireman burger, topped with chipotle sauce, jalapeños, and pepper jack cheese, or the Cuban burger, made with a combination of ground beef, ground pork, and chorizo and served with diced sautéed onions and potato sticks. But the creamy macaroni ‘n’ cheese ($6.50) is the menu’s true celebrity. Also worth the trip are Flip’s Buffalo wings, which are spiked with the eatery’s proprietary hot sauce (ask for it with your burger, or any dish for that matter) and a selection of imported, domestic, and craft beers. Not sure which one to try with your homemade burger? Owner/chef/waiter/bartender Emilio Vega, who took over from previous management less than a year ago, is a font of beer knowledge whose recommendations are right on point.

The sun is rising in the east

And you are drunk upon the beach.

Your belly aches from too much rum

and wild, crazy, all-night fun.

Where have you been, what did you do?

And wait, is that a real tattoo?

You need to stop and eat and think

to lounge, relax, and have a drink.

On Lincoln Road you will find

the tower that the ivy climbs.

The eggs are cheap, 11 bucks for two,

with bread and meat, a cup of coffee, one of juice,

and lots of people watching too.

So grab a seat and say your thanks

to break your fast and not your bank.

If a person from a Third-World country saw a platter of fried zucchini, a platter of bruschetta topped with ripe red tomatoes, and a rock-size chunk of Parmigiano-Reggiano, he or she would likely exclaim, “My good Lord, a banquet!” Guests dining at Il Gabbiano are more likely to say, “Gee, that was a nice complimentary snack; let’s order dinner now.” That’s reality for Luigi Tullio and brothers Gino and Fernando Masci, who came to Miami with a sense of abundance and hospitality learned growing up in Abruzzi, Italy (with a 26-year stopover as owners of Greenwich Village’s renowned Il Mulino). Dinner plates here overflow with authentic Italian flavors — and the pastas are made in-house, sautéed to order, and boast simple but compelling tastes — exemplified by the orecchiette with broccoli di rape and bucatini alla matriciana (all pastas are $27.75; it isn’t as though we didn’t tell you this is the best expensive Italian). Risottos are $36.75, but you get what you pay for — textbook preparations of creamy, al dente rice with meticulously prepared garnishes. All of your favorite veal scaloppine dishes are here ($27.75 to $45.75), as are thick steaks ($34.75 to $48.75) and obligatory shrimp scampi ($39.75). It’s all an embarrassment of riches, to be sure, but for those who can afford it, Il Gabbiano is a treasure.

The smell of garlic, tomatoes, and smoldering cheese accosts the senses inside Spartico at the Mayfair Hotel, located in Coconut Grove. Chef/restaurateur Jonathan Eismann consulted on the original launch, and chef Philippe Boutinet manages the kitchen, where “Roman pizza” is made in an “Ambrogi wood-burning oven from Milan” (do they not manufacture ovens in Rome?). In addition to turning out crisp, classic pies, the restaurant has a homestyle Italian menu of items ranging from overflowing antipasto platters ($15.95) to fritto misto ($10.95). Parmesan choices are organic chicken breast or eggplant — each doused in seasoned breading and then baked with a simple marinara sauce, fresh local mozzarella, and Grana Parmigiano cheese. You can get a modest plate of spaghetti pomodoro ($10.95) or an almost healthful “SoBe Vegetarian” pizza topped with roasted roma tomatoes, mozzarella, veggies, mixed olives, and mache lettuce ($13.95). Do not make the critical mistake of skipping the house garlic bread ($5.95), which might seem redundant before pizza and pasta. But trust us — it’s perfect when pulled from that wood-burning oven. Bonus: Happy hour is 4 to 7 p.m. all week. For calming Italian cravings without breaking the bank, Spartico is a trattoria safe house.

There’s nothing quite like a strapping young Spanish man with a chiseled body cooking delectable Spanish cuisine, moving about the kitchen like he designed it himself, wearing an apron — and nothing else. Ah, what we’d give to spend a week in Barcelona doing field research on this sort of thing. You know, for journalism. Well, you will find something close at Xixón. The people are good-looking, the place is cozy, and la comida is as good as it gets. Whether you’re into almejas en salsa verde (steamed clams in green sauce, $11), empanadas de atún (tuna, $3.75), or Andaluz gazpacho ($5), Xixón brings northern Spanish fare right to our back yard. The market on the first floor of this two-story space offers all the wine, jamón serrano, and Manchego (and fine Spanish olive oils, spices, etc.) of your dreams. Go ahead and pick up a pound and a half of everything. The kids need sandwich fixings for the week anyway. And you need a bottle of delectably leggy Spanish wine. This place is big yet always packed, even during the week. Take it from us: Xixón is the real deal. We might even make T-shirts that say, “RealXixon.” The fútbol fans would like that.

If you are unfamiliar with the Brazilian restaurant style known as rodizio, you haven’t lived the greatest joy of a carnivore. And if you haven’t visited Area Code 55, you should hurry over there. Pay $19.99 for lunch or $29.99 for dinner and you will be treated to an all-you can-eat meal served by men circling the room with beautiful cuts of meat on skewers. There are chicken legs wrapped in bacon, top sirloin (picanha), top sirloin with garlic, flank steak, baby top sirloin, pork ribs, pork loin, pork sausage, and even roasted pineapple. It’s all perfectly cooked — with crisp exteriors and juicy interiors. But that is not our favorite part. The all-you-can-eat salad bar includes soup, a half-dozen salads, all kinds of cold cuts, fresh bread, and many other delectables. This spread alone — without the beautiful meat — costs only $12.99 for lunch and $18.99 for dinner. Lunch prices apply Monday through Saturday before 4 p.m., so we encourage you to arrive early. You won’t regret it. In fact, you’ll leave saying, “Obrigado!”

Wilkinson “Ken” Sejour’s “seasoned kitchen” has grown into a mini-empire, with five restaurants across Miami’s Haitian belt, from Little Haiti to North Miami to Miami Gardens. But it’s not like most chains. Each Chef Creole outpost has a distinctive character. While most include some form of outdoor seating, the 54th Street flagship offers it in the greatest abundance — all under a tiki hut with a view of Little Haiti’s busiest corner. It’s also where you can stock up on bottles of made-to-order cremas — molasses-thick, eggnog-sweet Haitian rum cream — made by Sejour himself. But no matter which location you visit, you’ll get the best griot (fried pork chunks) north of Port-de-Paix and some of the freshest fried seafood anywhere in the county. Sejour, whose parents are from Haiti, was born in the Bahamas and raised in Miami. His background is reflected on the menu in the form of perfectly crisp-on-the-outside, tender-on-the-inside conch fritters and flavorful fried conch. And no Chef Creole meal is complete without some of Sejour’s pikliz. The spicy pickled vegetable salad, made with vinegar, sour orange juice, and Scotch bonnet peppers, is so good you’ll want to take home some extra — which you can, in a 16-ounce jar, for $5.

Iron Chef Makoto

Trained with Morimoto

Award from James Beard-oto

Clean stream of tradition flows

Edomae sushi fresh like ocean:

Hotate, aoyagi, shime saba,

Kobe, cooks tableside on

hot river stone

Udon ramen

Black edamame

Kurobuta belly, Kurosawa rib eye

Branzino, wasabi, chimichurri

Chimichurri?

Tuna air bread, caesar foam

Frosted fried rice, foie gras

Main plates $14 to $24

Wagyu/Kobe steaks $20 to $90

Makoto Okuwa

Far from Nagoya, Japan

Bal Harbour oasis

Close to our heart.

For a low-key sushi experience at rock-bottom pricing, the sushi bar at the Japanese Market can’t be beat. It’s a tiny Asian place nicknamed “Sushi Deli,” as indicated by the neon sign displayed inside an otherwise nondescript storefront, located in a random strip mall on the 79th Street Causeway. Chef Michio Kushi’s hands work quickly to mold rice, which he tops with an array of fresh fish from a countertop selection that is somehow of higher quality than many local high-end Japanese restaurants. Salmon, yellowtail, fluke, and eel ($1.50 each) are thinly sliced, as he prefers them; edges of the tuna sashimi are almost translucent. A piece of tako sashimi ($1.50) is faultless, and we are picky about our octopus (can’t be too thick or it gets chewy). Ask for uni ($2.50) and hope there’s some left. On occasion, it runs out early because the Japanese Market is the cheapest place in town to go crazy for urchin (it’s easy to rack up quite a tab at most other places). We suggest a few nuggets of sweet shrimp, whose heads are removed and deep-fried. The raw tail flesh becomes pristine sushi, and the tentacles and eyes get nice and crunchy. Sushi Deli makes a few kinds of spicy tuna — the “Marie” roll ($4.75) boasts a roasted garlic topping, while “Captain Tuna” is the “rich and spicy” version ($5.95). The “regular combo” is a steal: six pieces of assorted nigiri and a California or tuna roll for $8.95. Head to the rear of the market, select a bottle of sake to go with your meal, and simply ask for it to be added to your tab. You have to eat early, though. Last call for sushi is 6:45 p.m. weekdays and Saturdays, and 5:45 Sundays. The sushi bar is closed Monday and Tuesday.

It’s lunchtime. You want to fill yourself with gobs of food without paying too much. And you don’t want the same old thing. Chinese food is a nice alternative to the usual drive-thru fare, but you always seem to get hungry an hour after eating it. So what better way to go Asian than a Chinese buffet? And Dynasty has just what you’re looking for: a great choice of steaming-hot Chinese goodness. You can feast on staples such as delectable sweet ‘n’ sour chicken and hardy pepper steak. General Tso’s chicken has a nifty kick, and there are sushi rolls, crab legs, and pan-fried dumplings. And if you’re looking for the best endless kung pao chicken in town, well, you’ve found it. Dynasty is clean and well lit, so you can sit contentedly in the comfy modern dining area as you happily stuff your face and then get up for more. There are also sweets such as ice cream and fresh fruit. The lunch special, which includes a drink, costs only $7.55 and runs Monday through Friday from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. The dinner special is available from 4:30 to 10 p.m. and costs $10.55. Weekend prices vary.

Operating out of a remodeled gas station on the corner of Coral Way, Confucio Express serves “Chinese gourmet cuisine” created by a bunch of Colombians. Almost a half-century ago, owner José Choi’s Chinese immigrant parents landed in Barranquilla, opened a fancy food spot called Jardines de Confucio, and taught their kid how to run a restaurant. He mastered the wok, the deep fryer, and the flat-top grill while shuttling back and forth between the States and Colombia. But for the past seven years, Choi has been a full-time South Florida guy, managing a local outpost of his parents’ restaurant in Fontainebleau (10658 NW Seventh St., Miami 33172; 305-228-9272) while also working with the entire Confucio Express crew — including co-owner Carlos Visbal and a superfast kitchen staff — to bang out big batches of Latin-influenced Chinese take-out for Brickell’s hungry masses. The ideal order starts with a massive serving of Choi’s signature dish, Confucio special fried rice ($13.50), loaded with succulent chunks of sliced barbecued pork, two fistfuls of plump shrimp, and big, juicy cubes of seared ham. Then add some scorching Szechuan soup ($4), six honey-garlic chicken wings ($9.50), crunchy crab rangoon ($7), and a whole pound of spicy Mongolian chicken ($11.80). Of course, you’ll have to invite ten friends over to help you finish it all off. These are family recipes — the helpings are huge. Do not eat alone.

Sometimes you don’t want to cook, but you crave something hearty, surprising, and flavorful. And you have only $8.25 in your pocket. God bless the no-frills Chinese take-out joint. Hong Kong House boasts a superfriendly and quick staff, and has a quiet cult following in North Miami that troops there for the roast-pork fried rice, which features plump squares of meat and is delightfully free of grease. Or they — who are we fooling? — we stuff our faces with the beautifully addictive “krab” rangoon, fried goodness full of fake crab, cream cheese, and scallion-like spices. Dammit, there we go again, making ourselves hungry. If you’ll excuse us, we’re going to see how much money we have buried in our couch.

When it comes to flapjacks, you can’t beat City Hall. The three-stack of steaming-hot plain pancakes ($11) is lusciously infused with sugar, vanilla, and enough butter to make a crêpe jealous. Real maple syrup is served. Other varieties of hotcakes include chocolate chip ($12.50), blueberry ($13), and banana pecan ($13). A great plate of pancakes deserves an equally worthy cup of coffee. And this bi-level American brasserie delivers a strong brew of Lavazza. As we say, you can’t beat City Hall, but you can beat it over there and enjoy the breakfast.

If you don’t know about this little sandwich shop/shake stand, you probably didn’t grow up in West Hialeah. You don’t come here for the scenery or seating. It’s standing room only against a wall inside. But the food is tasty, and the prices are simply ridiculous: Sandwiches are all under $5, and most are under $3. That includes what many believe is the finest pan con bistec in South Florida. You can also catch a mean pan con lechón, pan con chorizo, grilled chicken breast on a soft white bun, as well as pan con ajo (garlic bread) and pan con ajo y tomate (Cuban bread toasted with garlic and tomato). S & N Vegetables is likewise known as “El Mejor Batido de Hialeah,” and when you sip on a mamey, mango, or passionfruit shake, you’ll understand why. Fresh-squeezed fruit juices are great too; we’re partial to the “Suspiro,” which is juice blended with milk. Service is so fast it sometimes seems as though the food arrives before you finish ordering. Cash only!

At nearly 40 years old, this Wynwood institution is the longest-running eatery of its kind in the city, and the most centrally located, right next to the Electric Pickle and up the block from the Shops at Midtown. Pearline Murray and her late husband Clifford opened Clive’s (named for their now-middle-aged son) in the mid-’70s, when their clientele consisted primarily of local factory workers. The neighborhood has changed considerably since then — for the worse and then for the better. So has the menu. Clive’s initially served typical American diner fare, and its old-fashioned luncheonette counter is perfectly preserved. While there’s still some evidence of Clive’s greasy-spoon past on the menu (tuna fish sandwiches and BLTs) diners flock primarily for Clive’s reliably tasty spins on classic Jamaican dishes such as jerk chicken, curry goat, and oxtail. Whatever you order, be sure to get a side of steamed vegetables. Clive’s peppery variation on this Caribbean dinner staple is the most flavorful you will ever taste.

The legend starts like this: In a quiet house on a tranquil Cartagena street, a family began cooking up bollo de yuca — a coastal Caribbean delicacy of mashed yuca boiled in corn husks — and selling it to neighbors. The dish was so good that customers soon were coming and going all day with brown bags of the stuff. Narco cops noticed the traffic, and — it being Colombia — they couldn’t believe all the fuss was over some boiled yuca. So they raided the house, sliced open every bollo, and found nothing more than Cartagena’s best budget lunch. To mock the authorities, the owners rechristened the joint “Narcobollo.” Doral’s outpost of the Cartagena standby doesn’t just have a ludicrously entertaining backstory; it’s also Miami-Dade’s best spot for mouthwatering Colombian delicacies. The unassuming room in a Doral strip mall serves arepas con huevo and arepas con queso for a couple of bucks each, heaping plates of sweet arroz con coco, and for just $6, a multiplate bandeja paisa feast of rice, arepas, eggs, and plantains. Don’t tell the DEA!

“Inspired by the nostalgia of the finest Argentine cuisine,” goes the tag line for one of downtown Miami’s newest hot spots, PM Fish & Steak House. No trumpets heralded the arrival of this modern steak-and-seafood house, but word of mouth and social networking led to enormous popularity from day one. The PM stands for Puerto Madero, the name of a port district of Buenos Aires, and for PM Restaurants, a group with a modest portfolio of venues from Mexico to Miami. The food might be inspired by nostalgia, but the décor is a decidedly contemporary mix of brick, dark hardwood floors, and urban industrial accents. Yet what makes PM special isn’t just the pretty room and boisterous Brickell crowd; it’s the consistently well-prepared cuisine — Argentine and otherwise. Starters ($4 to $12) include seared chorizo sausage; grilled provoleta cheese; crisp turnovers stuffed with spiced meat, fresh tuna, or black cod; and a shrimp/octopus stew with potatoes and olives that is so divine it will make you literally cry for Argentina. The prime steaks come in American cuts — tenderloin, New York strip, rib eye — but are assertively seasoned and grilled with the requisite gaucho spirit. There are no hash browns or French fries, but rather the PM specialty of souffléed potatoes — those classic French-style, crisp, air-filled spud pillows that are rare in these parts. We haven’t mentioned the array of raw bar items (including oysters on the half-shell and a live, giant chocolata clam!), the carpaccio (including “veal carpaccio alla Parmesan“), the tartare (tuna, salmon, striped bass), the sashimi and whole grilled fish du jour (entrées run $15 to $38), or the extensive wine list and cocktails. There’s a lot going on at PM, and all of it is going really well.

In Thailand, diners eat with either chopsticks or a spoon. No knife is placed on the table, and the fork is to be used only to push food onto the spoon. That’s a revelation to most first-time travelers from the West, much like the fried basil duck, shrimp pad thai, green papaya salad, and red curry pork are to those who visit Sawaddee Thai-Sushi. Native Thai owners Mariam and Montri Putlek have been putting out an extensive menu of specialties for almost six years from the little 16-seater off Normandy Drive in Miami Beach. The fare is fresh, authentic, and a little spicy — but you can request your desired degree of piquancy. Prices are as friendly as the staff: $3.95 to $6.95 for soups and $10.95 to $15.95 for noodle, rice, and protein dishes. You save even more money via the BYOB policy with no corkage fee. Plus you’re allowed to eat with a fork.

Come one, come all, but don’t come starving. The service at this Vietnamese gourmet hole in the wall on Calle Ocho is famous for its friendliness, not its speed. This ain’t McDonald’s. Hy Vong is owned and operated by a Vietnamese mother-daughter team and has been cooking to order since it opened in 1980. But regulars and first-timers unanimously agree the unique squash-and-pumpkin soup ($3.50) and beef tongue (if you dare) sautéed with ginger ($6) make the wait more than worthwhile. Yes, all you pho fans, Hy Vong has it too, though not as much of it as some other Vietnamese joints. As for entrées, duck breast with black currant dressing, kingfish in yellow curry sauce, and thit kho pork in coconut milk are among the numerous can’t-go-wrong options. Once you’re addicted to Hy Vong’s fresh and authentic cuisine, you can take advantage of the restaurant’s industrious method of continuously feeding your habit: its prepared meal service. They’ll make you prepackaged microwavable dinners for a week whenever you’re having a lazy spell. Just give them a day’s notice. Hours are Wednesday through Sunday from 6 to 11 p.m. Closed Monday and Tuesday.

Once you’re tucked into this comfy little den in South Beach, you’ll forget about the riffraff and party buzz outside on the dingy sidewalks of Washington Avenue. The lights are low, the candles are lit, and it’s time to order some nan. If you’ve worked up an appetite paddling on the surf a few blocks away, Guru’s cool mango lassi with sweet cardamom and salted cumin is a refreshing way to revive yourself — and your eyes will appreciate a break from the blinding sun. Snag one of the few cushioned wicker chairs for maximum relaxation. Selections, served from 5:30 to 11 p.m., include chicken makhani (Guru’s specialty boneless chicken in a creamy tomato sauce, $15.90) and Kashmiri rogan josh (lamb curry with ginger, fennel, and chiles, $17.90). Curried jalapeño crabcakes, chaat wafers, tandoori fish, shrimp korma, lamb vindaloo, and saag paneer are just a few of the choices that round out the menu. Vegetarian? Guru has plenty for you. Vegan? You’re covered; just be sure to ask about dairy, etc., in the entrées you’re ordering — some dishes include cheese but don’t say so on the menu.

If you want great cuisine, look for great chefs. If you want great French cuisine, look for great French chefs. Le Provençal’s chef Christian Antoniotti began his career at Hotel Restaurant Le Provençal in Cassis and then moved to four-star hotels in France and Switzerland as well as celebrated dining establishments in England. He moved to Miami in 1984 and began working at Chez Maurice, which in 1988 would become Le Provençal Restaurant. One of the chefs there, Jean-Pierre Terrou, had graduated from the Souillac Culinary School and worked at the Michelin-starred La Ferme de Mougins in Cannes, and later came up with foie gras recipes at Rougie Foie-Gras in Sarlat, France — where the world’s most renowned foie gras is created. Locals, however, will probably recall him from Le Festival Restaurant in Coral Gables, which was at one time the finest French dining establishment in Miami-Dade. Terrou moved to Le Provençal in 2002, and Le Provençal moved to its current Miracle Mile location in 2009. France Guillou, the president and manager of the venue, completes the trio of veteran professionals who make dining here such a seriously rewarding experience. Most starters are under $15 and most main courses cost less than $30, but the restaurant runs a three-course $35 prix fixe dinner menu that changes monthly. For June, the first course is a choice of duck pâté with orange essence or goat cheese tartlet with herbs. The second round includes rooster in red wine sauce with mushrooms and smoked bacon, grilled lamb chops with basil and sun-dried tomatoes, and Alaskan salmon fillet stuffed with spinach, garlic, and lemon sabayon. Dessert options encompass delights such as fresh strawberries with Grand Marnier and whipped cream, and chocolate lava cake. The regional French wine list runs deep, the Provençe-inspired décor is as pretty and charming as the former first lady of France, and the comforting country fare is as impressive as the resumés of those who cook it.

Egg & Dart is dressed in shades of white — ceiling, columns, organic clay walls, and lacquered tabletops. A Brazilian cherry-wood bar and an Indonesian teak communal table add warmth. There’s no obligatory wall mural of the Greek Isles here. Nor are there ouzo-fueled lunatics smashing plates on the floor or tossing napkins in the air. Egg & Dart is a contemporary urban restaurant with the same hip and sophisticated ambiance as any other; it just happens to serve incredibly tasty rustic Greek food. Proprietors Costa Grillas and Niko Theodorou are experienced hands. The former earned his stripes at Maria’s, which has been serving Grecian fare for close to 30 years; the Theodorou family also owns and operates Sea Satin Market, a waterfront restaurant in Mykonos. Their collaboration yields a menu of all the foods we’ve come to love — shrimp saganaki, fried smelts, a textbook horiatiki salad, the obligatory mezze dips (melitzanosalata, skordalia, taramosalata, tzatziki), and a slew of items wood-grilled to smoky delectability (octopus, calamari, whole fish, double lamb chops — need we say more?). The wine list is globally savvy and eminently affordable: some 40 bottles range from $27 to $60. Cocktails are $9 and include a gin-based “Greek salad” of tomato water and muddled cucumber that’s garnished with feta-stuffed kalamata olives. Fine food and drink in a fun, stylish setting. This Egg & Dart hits the bull’s-eye.

Myriad problems face Greece, but the quality of the gyro is not among them. And Miami is a first-class example. Greco Boys Grill serves moist, meaty wedges of highly seasoned pork, sliced from the ever-rotating cylinder up front and then plunked onto a soft, warm, puffy pita bread with ripe tomatoes, crisp onion rings, and freshly made tzatziki sauce. There is nothing like it — except the chicken gyro, which is very much like the pork version and equally delectable. The gyros (and wonderful souvlaki too) get served with smiles by an especially friendly crew in the bright, cheery dining room (there’s an outdoor patio in back too). It’s $6.95 per gyro or $11.95 with salad and choice of French fries or rice, which is affordable to even those dealing in drachmas — um, we mean euros.

Our theory is this: The best bagels are made the old-fashioned way, meaning yeast-risen, boiled, and baked on wooden planks in an oven with rotating shelves. That’s not how it’s done at the new-fangled bagel chains, which skip the boiling altogether in favor of a light mist while baking. That process leads to soft, light crusts instead of crisp, bronzed ones. Henry Herzbrun is an old-time bagelmeister. At Bagel Express, which he and wife Maria have owned for more than 20 years, the difference can be gleaned from the first bite. All the basic flavors are here: sesame, poppy, garlic, onion, salt, egg, pumpernickel, everything, and plain — as well as cinnamon-raisin, whole wheat, and eight-grain. Regular or low-fat cream cheese comes in flavors too (chive, vegetable, Nova Scotia salmon, and honey-walnut). Fresh, hand-sliced nova lox is on hand, as are Boar’s Head deli sandwiches on bagels, buttery rugelach, and Dr. Brown’s sodas. A single bagel is $1.35; a baker’s dozen is $11.95. They come with holes in them, but our theory does not.

When Mexican food gets fussy, we frown and ponder with dismay that it is considered “nouveau” cuisine. We like our Mexican cheap, easy, and cheesy, without any fusion or confusion. This is exactly what Alma Mexicana serves — casual, homestyle fare that’s fast and tastes damn good. Occupying a former tattoo parlor, Alma appeals more to a clientele interested in indulging wicked cravings than to those who frequent healthful fast-casual chains. It’s small but cozy; you can dine-in, or if you prefer to lick the escaped fillings of a burrito off your fingers, have it delivered and eat every last morsel in privacy. Stop in anytime for a Mex fix. There are breakfast burritos ($6) with beans, eggs, cheese, and a choice of tocino (bacon), papas (potatoes), chorizo (sausage), or bistec (steak). Then there’s the notorious “smothered burrito,” doused in a house-made green chili sauce and covered in melted cheese ($9.25). It’s almost impossible to choose one among crusty tortas ($7.50), simple quesadillas ($6), and “super” nachos that are so overloaded with cheese and thin slices of carne that they appear to be sliding off the plate ($10.25). Or you can make your own taco combo starting with corn tortillas topped with onions and fresh sprigs of cilantro ($2.50 per taco). Try the seasoned shredded chicken, the veggie, or both pork renditions — pastór (marinated chunks) and traditional carnitas. Grab a Mexican Coke or horchata to complete the experience.

Miami boasts a solid percentage of Nicaraguans. That means in addition to the great Cuban and Argentine joints around town, there are places such as Fritanga Montelimar. At this Kendall cafeteria, you can eat yourself silly without the bother of pretentious restaurant frills. You stand in line and wait your turn to let the ladies behind the counter ask, “¿Que quieres, niña?” They serve your food on Styrofoam plates, and you eat it with plastic utensils. It’s like elementary school all over again — with better grub, of course. The tasty and affordable home-cooked comida here dazzles. For $10, you’ll enjoy a delicious meal and feel like you have five new Nicaraguan abuelitas. Grilled pork, sweet ‘n’ sour lengua, plátanos, and indio viejo (corn and pork stew) will get your mouth watering. And if they don’t, you should probably get that checked out. It’s the kind of place where you’re allowed to get messy, and if need be, scoop up the sauces with bread (and your hands). Homemade chimichurri and gallo pinto (rice and red beans) will make you think, Why did I not find this place sooner? It’s OK. That’s why we’re here.

Miami has no shortage of excellent hotel restaurants, from Zuma to Hakkasan to DB Bistro Moderne. But Tudor House is different from the rest. For one, it is located in what used to be the lobby of the Tudor Hotel (now Dream South Beach Hotel) — a charming little deco dining room, but not exactly the Fontainebleau. It is cozier and more personal than the larger hotel restaurants and thus friendlier to locals. Service is sharp, cocktails are smooth, and the cuisine — conceptualized by New York star chef Geoffrey Zakarian and orchestrated with aplomb by chef/partner Jamie DeRosa — is on par with that of the bigger players. Pretzel rolls that start the meal are reason enough for a visit, but what defines this fare is the impeccably delicate preparation of flawlessly sourced ingredients. Pea soup exemplifies the style: a warm bright-green purée perked with lime marshmallows, crunchy English peas, and aromatic coriander seeds. Ethereal entrées are plated with no less precision — from black grouper cheeks in a colorful playpen of baby vegetables to branzino fillets flashed with fava beans and Cerignola olives. A most welcome distinction between Tudor and the skyscraper hotel restaurants might well be the price: Main courses start at $21, and few rise above $30.

Want to protest unreasonable restaurant prices (you know, $14 apps, $34 entrées, $9 desserts)? Occupy Blue Collar. That is, sit your tired, working-class behind in one of the 25 indoor seats (or take a seat outdoors if you like). Express your unwavering support of value-driven, friendly neighborhood restaurants by indulging in a plate of eggs and beans with smoky bacon and Berkshire sausage, Big Easy-style shrimp and grits with Nueske’s bacon, a bowl of tagliolini with pancetta and clams, or crisp-skinned snapper with rock-shrimp/vegetable fried rice. All dishes are under $20 (except “white collar” weekend specials), and there are 20 — count ’em, 20 — vegetable sides listed on the chalkboard for $4 apiece. A can of salt-of-the-earth Pabst Blue Ribbon or Coors Light goes for $3, and craft brews are $5. An unlimited thermos of Panther coffee can be gulped for $3 and matches well with homemade berry cobbler ($7). If taking a political stand always tasted this good, the one percent would be working for us.

Times have been tough in Miami. Gas prices keep going up, the cost of living is through the roof, and our wages haven’t gotten any higher. But we still have to eat — and if we can, eat well. That’s why Plate is here. It’s the perfect spot to grab a breakfast wrap or hearty lunch for a very decent price. Plate is adamant about keeping things high on the health scale, so you know the food won’t add to your waistline. How does turkey picadillo with brown rice sound? Good, right? It costs $5.95. That just went from good to amazing in two seconds. Whole-wheat pan con lechón for just a little more than six bucks is a must. Grab one of the signature smoothies, such as the Coral Way (with OJ, strawberries, banana, and fat-free yogurt), to wash down your nutritious, inexpensive meal. Let’s put it this way: At Plate, you’d have to try hard to make a lunch for two cost more than $20.

— I’m so glad we could get together at this cozy little 24-seater for our tête-à-tête.

— You can thank my shrink; he told me to quit having intimate dinners for two unless there was another person around.

— It’s such a charming room, dimly lit with a chandelier and flickering candles, decorated family photos on the walls. It makes me think I’m dining at home. And the service is so personal; they really seem to care about each diner. Shall we start with a drink?

— I thought you’d never ask.

— Paul Goerg Blanc De Blancs champagne is served by the glass. Let’s each have one and share a crispy duck confit salad with grilled apricots ($15) while we decide what to eat.

— If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and talks like a duck, it probably needs more time in the microwave.

— Ha-ha, very funny. But I was hoping we could cut down on the jokes tonight and have a serious, personal discussion. First let’s decide the menu. The flavors are intense here. A lot of the ingredients used by chefs Horacio Rivadero and Christian Alvarez are locally sourced and organic.

— I like organic farmers. They till it like it is.

— The vanilla butternut squash soup ($11), by the way, is to die for. Plus I’ve had the pan-roasted chicken with fingerling potatoes and morel mushrooms ($22). It’s divine.

— I’m just wondering: Do chickens think rubber humans are funny?

— Can’t you be serious for a second? I mean, that’s really what I wanted to discuss with you tonight. I can’t go on like this. We come to this most romantic of places and all you can do is make inane wisecracks. We’re through. Do you understand? I mean, we’ll have our meal first, of course — I’m not giving that up for you — but then that’s it. And believe me, I will never go out with a comedy writer again. Never!

— So two cannibals are eating a clown. One says to the other: “Does this taste funny to you?”

Villa Azur, like the Côte d’Azur it’s named for, is beautiful, chic, and stylish. It also has impeccable service. From the moment you stroll through the 12-foot-tall drapes and are greeted by a beautiful hostess, you’re treated like the celebrity your mother always hoped you’d become (instead of a part-time barista). Before dining, have a cocktail at the softly lit bar, where an attractive bartender will make you a perfectly poured cocktail. Not sure what to have? Ask for a recommendation. Maybe he or she will recommend the signature drink, made with French champagne and freshly muddled fruit. Or maybe you’ll discover a new favorite wine. When you’re ready to dine, you’ll be assisted by the knowledgeable and helpful waitstaff. Did we mention they too are all good-looking? Don’t see your server? No worries, because anyone will answer menu questions, bring you another martini, or deliver an extra plate. It’s as if everyone at the restaurant received a master’s degree from Cornell and DNA from Villa Azur co-owner Olivier Martinez and his bride-to-be Halle Berry.

Taste Bakery & Café, which opened on South Beach in 2001, was John Kunkel’s first Miami Beach restaurant. Three years later, he sold Taste, which is still going strong, and started Lime Fresh Mexican Grill. Lime proved very popular, which led to the opening of 15 other locations in Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Virginia, and Washington, D.C. Eight years after founding Lime, Kunkel sold the chain to Ruby Tuesday for $24 million. He stepped down as CEO but remains involved with Ruby Tuesday and Lime’s further growth. Last year, Kunkel and his 50 Eggs Restaurant Group opened Yardbird Southern Table & Bar to critical and popular acclaim. Next up is Swine, a pork-centric spot in the former Les Halles space on Ponce de Leon Boulevard. And after that, Kunkel is looking to launch another fast-casual chain featuring Southeast Asian street food. He is creative, passionate, successful, and driven to keep doing more. What else could you ask for from a restaurateur?

The Dutch is an American-roots-inspired restaurant (and oyster bar) that takes homestyle foods such as roast chicken and braised short ribs and then shapes them for big-city palates. It is a partnership among New York restaurateurs Andrew Carmellini, Josh Pickard, and Luke Ostrom (who operate a Dutch in New York’s SoHo neighborhood) and Karim Masri and Nicola Siervo of Miami’s Quattro Gastronomia Italiana, Sosta, and Wall Lounge. Although the Dutch premiered November 14, 2011, it is new in ways beyond the opening date. For instance, let’s compare a typical stale restaurant concept (“old”) to the Dutch (“new”):

Old: The head chef previously helmed the kitchen at a place called Fondue & Brew.New: Andrew Carmellini is a two-time James Beard Award winner with a few hugely popular New York City restaurants, a couple of cookbooks under his belt, and national recognition as a topnotch culinary talent.Old: Flowing white drapes, monochromatic décor — a sophisticated-chic look.New: White brick walls lined with bookcases, blond-wood tables, bursts of color, and an elegant yet casual look.Old: Fried calamari ($15), followed by macadamia-crusted grouper in mango sauce ($30).New: Lobster salad with palms hearts, mangoes, and cucumber ($22), followed by crispy branzino ($28).Old: A square of tiramisu ($8) or a commercially produced, sugar-laden wedge of cake with raspberry purée squiggled on the plate ($8).New: Fresh pies baked daily ($12), toasted-almond panna cotta with yuzu sauce and fresh raspberries ($12), or any or all of seven artisanal American cheeses ($12 to $19).Old: Lots of hype, not much else.New: Lots of hype, with the food, drink, ambiance, and attitude to back it up.

It used to be that a steak house was a steak house was a steak house. Now it’s a place that uses organics, sears Kobe meat at 1,500 degrees, and offers innovative sides. Edge Steak & Bar does much of this. The dining room is sleek and stylish, with an outdoor terrace and private event rooms. Vegetables are sourced locally, and chef Aaron Brooks brings in prime meats and seafood. There’s no Kobe, but you can get a Black Angus filet mignon, a prime churrasco steak, slow-smoked pork ribs, and a Creekstone Farms Edge burger (with homemade pickles and house-cut fries) — all cooked on an infrared grill (that would be 1,800 degrees, if you’re counting). Innovative sides? Try quinoa and fire-roasted corn salad or chorizo and cheddar croquetas with romesco sauce. And Edge brings a spin of its own to the modern steak-house formula: Meats (and some fish) are categorized into small, medium, and large cuts. So a six-ounce Boston cut prime strip steak is available for $20, same size filet mignon is $27, a seven-ounce butcher’s cut filet is $25. If you’re feeling hungry, a 12-ounce New York strip is $33, and a 24-ounce bone-in tomahawk steak is $45. Smaller portion options mean you can opt for a more healthful, better-balanced, and non-obscenely priced meal. That’s what we call an edge over the competition.

Take it from a dessert connoisseur. Atelier Monnier’s chocolate almond croissant ($3) will make an addict of you. In a town full of ersatz pastries, AM is the real deal: buttery, flaky confections dripping with sinfully sweet ingredients. Compared with pan cubano, Monnier is practically manna of the gods. The only question: How to get your fix? Six days without the gooey, chocolatey treat leaves us jonesing for the next dose of the good stuff. French chef Franck Monnier’s eponymous gourmet boutique is headquartered in distant Dadeland Plaza. Thankfully, like any good dealer, Monnier will come to you. For travelers flying into or out of the city, there are two outposts at Miami International Airport, at Gates D17 and D20. Mobile pastry mongers also sling croissants and macaroons Sundays at the farmers’ market on Lincoln Road. Monnier’s pastry oasis also appears Wednesdays at the University of Miami, beginning in October. If you can’t make it to the shops or special events, Monnier also caters parties and special events. Prepare for a sugar abuse problem.

After taking your seat at the Rusty Pelican, your mate will comment, “Wow, what a beautiful view.” Your response? “The most beautiful view is the one I share with you.” From this Virginia Key jewel, the Miami skyline beckons with a twinkle across Biscayne Bay. Let’s face it: We all love a dazzling vista; even more so when water is involved. When we’re sitting at a table filled with great food and drink, this fact is especially true. At Rusty Pelican, the outdoor tables are next to a dramatically lighted fire pit, and indoor seating is in a room brightened by a recent multimillion-dollar renovation. Chef Michael Gilligan’s contemporary American menu highlights raw bar selections, sushi, crabcakes, tuna tacos, ceviche, tiraditos, a series of creative small plates (eel and foie gras; pork-belly-and-apple skewers), and main plates such as whole red snapper with crisply fried noodles, and poached duck breast with chanterelles and parsnip quenelles (appetizers and small plates range from $8 to $16, entrées $26 to $35). If you think it can’t get any better than that, how about weekday happy hour (4 to 7 p.m.) with $3 beers; $5 well drinks and featured wines; $7 martinis, mojitos, and margaritas; $5 to $9 bar bites; and, of course, that priceless view.

While sitting on the veranda of J & G Grill, it is easy to get lost in a peaceful state of reverie as the sun sprinkles jeweled reflections upon the mesmerizing ocean. Umbrellas shade the rays, a balmy breeze blows in from the Atlantic, and an attentive waiter refills water glasses and delivers fresh rounds of cocktails as quietly as mist. Any notion of being in a fantasy is only reinforced when the food arrives. After all, if you dreamed up a chef to create the menu for this lovely setting at the St. Regis Bal Harbour, he’d be exactly like Jean-Georges Vongerichten. Granted, J & G Grill is a casual take on his legendary Jean-Georges restaurant, but that makes dining outdoors that much more leisurely and affordable (most dinner entrées are $30 and under; a three-course prix fixe lunch is $28). The American, French, and Asian cuisine showcases luscious offerings such as sautéed pink Florida shrimp with key lime yogurt and red radish, black truffle pizza with fontina cheese, a selection of local fish, and prime meats simply grilled. There are also kumquat mojitos, other cutting-edge cocktails, and an exceptional wine list. Chef de cuisine Richard Gras translates Vongerichten’s vision with élan, and the waitstaff is both cordial and professional. J & G not only offers an idyllic environment with a sensational water vista, but also pampers diners with serenity. And just for the record: The food tastes equally good when eaten indoors.

A gastropub is simply a bar serving food and drinks that surpass the sappy snacks usually proffered at such an establishment. Haven does just that. Technically, it is a self-billed “gastro-lounge,” which means instead of a stuffy pub atmosphere, the room includes a thousand or so hue-changing ice-cube lights, a Siberian white-onyx bar that likewise changes color, and wraparound walls that immerse diners in HD-projected images of white-capped mountains, the Mediterranean, the South Beach skyline, and other scintillating scenes. On the beverage end, creative cocktails emanate a mist produced by liquid nitrogen (which is also used to blast and freeze ice cream by the order). Chef Todd Erickson’s global mix of small plates clears that mist like sunlight bursting through clouds. Whether it be sashimi, ceviche, coconut-crusted rock shrimp with wasabi-peach marmalade ($15), or a “lamburger” slider with lavender, coriander, and honey ($11), the cuisine is electrically charged in flavor. It’s a gastropub for the 21st Century and definitely for late-nighters: Haven is open nightly until 5 a.m.

“Reporter Nick Smooth here at the Sheen Center for Disturbed People, interviewing Ned Kolopsi as to why he was so enthralled with Crazy About You before landing at this facility. As most viewers know, the restaurant is a spinoff of Dolores, but You Can Call Me Lolita (with additional venues in Spain). Crazy name for a restaurant, huh? Anyway, tell us, Ned. What’s the story?”

“The story is that for $15.99, I can get a mojo-roasted half-chicken with spinach, artichokes, and any of the dozen soups or starters on the menu. I usually go with the Serrano ham croquettes, the creamiest around.” “Well, we should remind our viewers about where we are holding this interview — we’ll have to double-check the $15.99 price. That sounds a little too low. But back to you, Ned.””The same items are only $13.99 during lunch. High-rollers can go with the $19.99 dinners, like pork osso buco or sea-salted wild salmon — there are four to six choices in each price category. The highest price is $23.99, which brings veal churrasco, applewood-grilled short ribs, or miso-glazed orange roughy. Did I mention you get your choice of any starter? Plus a glass of house wine is just $4. And the dessert menu arrives in the form of a little Ferris wheel; as you spin it, small cards flip up with sweet options; a textbook cappuccino flan is just $2.50. Plus, the place used to be home to the elegant Spanish restaurant La Broche, so rather than appearing like a budget establishment, it looks like a million bucks — with a drop-dead gorgeous vista of Biscayne Bay. Outdoor tables too.””A little Ferris wheel? Desserts for $2.50 in a million-dollar waterfront setting? You like to embellish, don’t you Mr. Kolopsi? Is that why you’re here at this center?””No, I’m here because it’s the only way they could get me out of the restaurant. I tell you, I’m crazy about Crazy About You.”

— Tell me, Master Norman Van Fusion, what is the secret to gathering cuisines from different cultures and melding them as one?

— Well, little grasshopper, one of the secrets is to employ indigenous foods. That’s why Tuyo uses growers, producers, and food artisans of Florida and the American Southeast.

— You mean Key West yellowtail, grilled pompano with Cedar Key clams, Lake Meadow chicken mofongo, Brazilian conch chowder, ceviche with papaya, and yuca-stuffed Gulf shrimp?

— I see you’ve been studying, curious caterpillar. You have discovered some of the ingredients of my New World cuisine. Knowledge is the key; I have been working in the culinary arts for decades and producing Zen-like combinations of flavors since even before my days at Norman’s in Coral Gables.

— You are known far and wide for this, Master; I have even seen you on PBS. But how does one know for sure if rhum-and-pepper-painted golden tilefish on mango-habanero mojo will succumb to oneness with boniato-caramelized plantain mash en poblano?

— You cannot take a shower in a parakeet cage, my earnest worm.

— I do not understand.

— As I tell my disciples at Norman’s in Orlando: Years of experience are invaluable when it comes to things like this. Once you understand the essence of food and cooking, the path to fusing ingredients will come.

— And what of your vision?

— Tuyo is fusion. Tuyo is vision. It says that right on my menu. And the vision thing extends to the vista of the Freedom Tower and city skyline one can clearly see from Tuyo’s perch atop the Miami Culinary Institute. Quite frankly, it’s the sort of vision that can knock your chakra into place.

— This vision of yours, Master, you will spread it to all who seek it?

— I shall spread it to all who can afford to pay $16 for an appetizer and $24 to $44 per entrée. But, my naive cricket, that’s a lesson for another day.

From hookah to baklava, Daily Bread Pinecrest is pretty much your one-stop shop for anything Eastern Mediterranean or Middle Eastern. But it is your only stop for falafel. For $6.25, you get a crisply fried chickpea patty, pickled carrots, cabbage mixed with spices, raw onions mixed with sumac and other spices, and tahini sauce, all wrapped in eight inches of fresh pita bread and made right in front of you. It’s a recipe handed down from owner Toufic Mazzawi’s mother. Business seems to be good — they opened another location in Dadeland Mall this past February. Besides the falafel, one of their most popular items is the kibbeh platter ($9.99).

— I’m telling you, it’s the best hummus in the world. You could travel to Israel and wouldn’t find better.

— Pardon me, Saul, I think I have something stuck in my ear. I thought I heard you say the hummus at Pita Hut is better than any in Israel.

— That’s what I said, Al, and I have been to that country many times. I had some hummus at Pita Hut yesterday and, holy Manischewitz, the smoothness you wouldn’t believe. A baby’s tuchis should only be so soft!

— You shouldn’t be drinking Manischewitz this early.

— What are you saying, ‘Drink Manischewitz’? Who’s drinking? I tell you, the blend of chickpeas with whispers of lemon, garlic, and olive oil — such a flavor you don’t get every day. And a pool of tahini rests on the hummus as lightly as a lily pad on a pond.

— Lily pad on a pond? Suddenly he’s Robert Frost! Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Saul Finkelstein, the poet laureate of hummus!

— Sit down and don’t get so worked up. No wonder you have heart problems! I’m only saying that for $6.99, you won’t get a better deal. Plus you get pita bread, of course. And Pita Hut is not just a falafel joint these days, but also a full-fledged restaurant with an extensive menu of Israeli specialties. It even serves kosher sushi!

— Better than any sushi in Israel, no doubt.

— I try to tell you about great hummus and I get sarcasm. Better you should use your energy to make it to Pita Hut. Or if you prefer, you can fly to the Promised Land and get your hummus there. But if we each live to be 110, never again will I mention hummus to you.

— That’s more than fine by me. By the way Saul, have you ever tried Pita Hut’s falafel? I hear it’s pretty good.

— Oy vey.

The fries at Harry’s Pizzeria are practically Robespierre-esque in the way they revolutionize the idea of being French. For those tired of the greasy excess of the potato aristocracy, the polenta fries at Harry’s offer a tuber-tastic alternative. Eating them feels not like a retreat from taste, but an attack on the world’s taste buds. At Michael Schwartz’s new pizzeria in the Design District, they take a block of polenta and slice it cleanly, as one would the neck of a noble in a guillotine. After deep frying, the fries are stacked into stubby towers much like those of the Bastille. Actually, Harry’s version resembles French toast sticks more than French fries. The dusting of kosher salt on top takes the place of powdered sugar and is mild enough to enhance the earthy flavors of the polenta without overpowering it. Instead of maple syrup, Harry’s serves a house-made spicy ketchup, eschewing liberté, égalité, and fraternité in favor of onion, garlic, and cilantro. For a mere $5 per serving, let them eat polenta!

Every time you bite into a croqueta from Vicky Bakery, you know it’s made with the type of love that’s lasted 40 years in El Exilio. In the early ’70s, Antonio and Gelasia Cao arrived in Miami with their two children. While Gelasia made leather goods, her husband worked three jobs in a local bakery and a couple of cantinas to make ends meet. By 1972, the couple had saved enough money to open a pastry shop in Hialeah. Today, the Caos, their children, and their grandchildren own nine other locations in Miami-Dade and Broward, ensuring every Vicky Bakery stays true to making pastries and croquetas from scratch. Batches of the oblong morsels are fried to crisp perfection throughout the day seven days a week. They are even more scrumptious stuffed inside a fresh, warm Cuban roll. You can choose from ham, chicken, or cheese filling. Party platters vary in price and quantity, but a single croqueta goes for 55 cents.

There are so many types of empanadas in this city. Argentine, Colombian, Cuban, Puerto Rican, and Venezuelan are just a few. They’re all hot and tasty. But take cover, kids, because we’re crowning the Venezuelans empanada kings for 2012. La Latina is a tiny, well-decorated hole in the wall across the train tracks from the Shops at Midtown. Walk in, take in the fluorescent-pink elephants and colorful wallpaper, and then order empanadas to your heart’s desire. Our recommendation is the pabellón: black beans, cheese, shredded beef, and sweet plantains, all conveniently packaged in golden, flaky goodness. It’s made fresh too. Bonus: Anti-gluten people can enjoy it as well. The dough is gluten-free, and the meat is antibiotic- and hormone-free. Cost? Less than four bucks. Go ahead, indulge in six of ’em — we won’t tell a soul.

Everyone does Sunday brunch. But you’re not everyone. You’re sexy, confident, and a little dangerous — just like James Bond. But even agents of Her Majesty’s Secret Service need eggs and a mimosa once every now and then to keep up their strength. Which is why you should do brunch at Vesper Brasserie. On Saturday (which, of course, is designed to fool any and all supervillains who notoriously have brunch only on Sunday), this poolside restaurant, named for one of 007’s favorite cocktails, is a tribute to our favorite spy and offers a $28 prix fixe brunch that runs from noon to 4 p.m. The menu changes, because a spy has to stay on his or her toes, but expect to find the usual brunchy eggs and waffles along with some very seductive surprises such as a raw bar and a sushi station. A mimosa is included — shaken, not stirred. Stay for the pool party, which includes a live DJ until 8 p.m., and make a day of it. Is that Pussy Galore in the yellow bikini?

In Miami Gardens, not far from the football stadium where the Dolphins plan not to lose again this year, stands Hammond’s Bakery. There, owner Wayne Hammond offers warm, moist Jamaican patties just like you’d get on the island. The dough is not that crappy yellow stuff you find at gas stations. These aren’t frozen. Nor are they greasy. In fact, the vegetarian callaloo version is downright healthy. But the meat patties — ah, the meat patties. You will want to buy a dozen, which costs $18. They are so worth it. You and your friends will be eating them for days. This kind of patty should be available all over Miami-Dade. Too bad it’s not.

Husband-and-wife team Sheir and Nafeeza Ali have run this friendly neighborhood grocery store since 1980. But it’s more than peanut butter and chips. B & M Market carries authentic Caribbean products and hot food made fresh to go. Whether you’re looking for an ice-cold Jamaican Ting soda, an Irish moss peanut drink, locally baked ginger bulla bread, a can of gungo peas, a freshly made plate of saltfish and ackee, a just-rolled order of goat roti, or produce for cooking your own typical island dishes, this is the place to shop. Vegans and vegetarians in search of authentic Caribbean products too elusive for Whole Foods might be pleasantly surprised to find just what they’re looking for as well. They might even run into chef Michelle Bernstein there; she’s a fan. And if you need a Guyanese folk remedy for a tummy ache, some Trini beauty products, or Guadalupan sundries, you’ll find those too.

There are three certainties in life: Death, taxes, and new hamburger joints opening in Miami. And just as the manner of death and amount of taxation differ from person to person, so too do the burger emporiums. Burger & Beer Joint, part of the original wave of boutique burger bars that burst upon South Beach back in 2009, is distinguished by its superior hamburger (a second B&B has since opened in Mary Brickell Village). It’s a ten-ounce, certified Angus beef prime patty that is assertively grilled and garnished according to your preference in rock song. Thunder Road? That brings smoked Duroc pork-belly bacon, American cheese, bourbon barbecue sauce, and, like all burgers, a side of skinny fries ($14). Hotel California? The burger gets dressed with guacamole, ranchero salsa, grilled red onion, cilantro sour cream, sharp cheddar, and a sunny-side up fried egg on a brioche bun ($14). Mustang Sally cuts the portion to eight ounces but ups the beef quality to Wagyu, with red onion marmalade, prosciutto, and Brie ($16). There’s an ahi tuna burger, a portobello mushroom burger, a turkey burger, a chicken burger, and a Wagyu burger with foie gras, black-truffle demi-glace, and duck-fat fries ($32). Octane chicken wings, beer-battered onion rings, and mac ‘n’ cheese are among the snacks. But remember, this is a beer joint too: The selection, 99 strong, is one of the most extensive on the Beach. Booze-boosted shakes and rock ‘n’ roll tunes fuel the fun at this local favorite. Finally, we appreciate that B&B has a big heart: Ten percent of all 2012 sales from the kids’ menu is donated to help St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.

After grabbing groceries, beer, and Lotto tickets at Presidente Supermarket; bleaching a batch of undies at Coin Laundry; re-upping your cell phone at Metro PCS; shaking some booty and slurping a mojito at Kaffe Krystal; and losing half of last week’s paycheck at Luxor Gaming Center, you’re gonna be superhungry, bro. Just stagger over to Los Perros Aqui and scarf a Super Perro Aqui. We’re talking about hot goops of Swiss cheese, crisp chunks of bacon, a messy scoop of coleslaw, an entire bag of crushed chips, shredded bits of pineapple, spicy mayo salsa, and four hard-boiled quail eggs — all stacked atop a juicy, eight-inch hot dog. Sure, this whacked-out wiener is just a riff on the classic perro caliente colombiano, a boiled-dog dish native to Medellín, Bogotá, and Cali that won’t be wholly unfamiliar to the average partying meat eater from Miami. Still, the Super Perro Aqui is a simple, straight-up masterpiece. Plus it costs only $4.85.

Boutique pizza has been overwhelmed by fancy burgers this past year, but the owners of Kings County Pizza in Aventura couldn’t care less. Their Brooklyn/Neapolitan pies don’t rely on coal-fired ovens or whole-wheat dough or truffled pineapple toppings. Instead, pizza lovers flock here for the crisp crusts, sweet tomato sauce, and melted mozzarella cheese. A slice costs $2.25, a medium pie is $9.95, and a large is $12.95. The half-dozen varieties of the basic bring toppings such as fresh mozzarella and crushed tomatoes; salami, caramelized onion, and eggplant; and a “meatlovers” pie garnished with ham, sausage, pepperoni, and meatball. Kings County also boasts the classic square Sicilian pie ($15.95) with thick, airy dough. You can get subs, salads, and a limited range of Italian entrées ($7.95 to $10.95) here as well, but pizza is the king at Kings.

It’s pretty hard to come by good barbecue in Miami. Hop on northbound I-95 and you’ll have to drive for two hours or so until you find something halfway decent. But why would you do that? Mad Man Jack’s Bar-B-Que is right around the corner, and the ‘cue is awesome. Owner Mike Herran simply wants to give you “good food, well served.” The space looks like an ordinary barbecue joint — red-and-white checkered table covers, dark wooden counters, barstools — but it serves its Alabama-style meat (focused on pork, often prepared with hickory and hardwood) con un giro inesperado. For example, order the smoked fall-off-the-bone ribs (half-rack, $14) with a side of warm, homemade cornbread ($2) and — just to make it 305 — a can of Materva. Yeah, you read right. Not into ribs? The monstrous barbecued pulled-pork sandwich ($7) will knock your sandy Havaianas off. And it goes very well with Jupiña or Ironbeer. Does that sound authentic to you? Of course not. It’s not Southern-barbecue authentic, but it’s Miami-barbecue authentic. And with that, we couldn’t be more pleased.

Fried chicken is one of those classic American comfort foods. The lingering scent of hot oil on a crunchy, well-seasoned exterior with bubbles of crisp skin and flour can be a culinary challenge. Some chefs brine the meat, others soak it, and still others forego any type of conditioning. Cooking temperatures differ across state lines. In fact, the methodology of making perfect fried poultry is highly debatable. Even trickier is this question: Do the fixings alter your chicken perception? Is bird served atop a steamy waffle better than a plate styled simply with grits and gravy? The truth is that all kinds of chicken dinners are welcome at our table, but when it comes to a seriously great meshing of chicken and accouterments, we’ll steal a seat at Prime One Twelve’s bar and order the fried “chicken n’ waffles” with maple syrup ($30). This birdie is bathed in buttermilk and pounded out almost like a traditional Milanese, only thicker and juicier. The malt waffles are made from scratch, and warm maple syrup is the purest route to savory-sweet, which this dish does well. Plus, there is just the right ratio of waffle to bird, so you get a bite of each from beginning to end. Sure, it’s not exactly the budget version of fried chicken, but we love it when a commoner gets elevated to royalty.

Since 1789, the chicken wing has been part of the U.S. Constitution. (Read the fine print, people. It’s all the way down at the bottom before you get to the part that says Americans are obliged to dress in cheesy outfits for patriotic holiday observations.) Flashy, sequined American-flag bras aside, we know when we come across a good wing. Shuckers Bar & Grill’s grilled chicken wings ($9.95 a dozen) are a prime example of the meaty ala. It’s crunchy on the outside, hot and tender on the inside. There’s a symphony of seasonings playing on the crisp skin, but it’s difficult to put your finger on exactly what they are. The flavor is part tangy, part spicy, part char-grilly, and a whole lot of awesome. The folks in the Shuckers kitchen are staying mum about the recipe. It’s a secret, and it’s delicious. Best combination ever.

You can get everything from traditional straw hats and baskets to Sparkies candies (Colombia’s answer to Skittles) and two-liter bottles of Postobón soda at San Pocho, a one-stop shop and family restaurant serving Little Havana’s Colombian community. The restaurant has developed a following beyond the neighborhood, thanks to flavorful renditions of Colombian comfort-food staples such as sancocho (meat-and-vegetable soup) and tasty arepas. Come early for the shredded chicken- and beef-filled varieties ($3 each) — they sell out every morning. But the basic arepa con queso ($2) — a curd of gooey white cheese melted over a single grilled corn pancake to create a perfect hybrid of crispiness — is the most addictive.

The Dimwitted Nitpickers Association (DNA) recently convened for its annual meeting at Salumeria 104, the new midtown Miami shop that specializes in cured meats and other prepared foods.

“First thing I don’t like about this place is they spell salami wrong,” said Ed “Crabby” Appleton, one of the group’s veterans. “Whoever heard of a u in salami?””You know what bugs me?” groused Sharon “Shush!” Schwartz. “They’ve got speck, bresaola, guanciale, cacciatoriano, mortadella, and two types of prosciutto — but not a hint of olive loaf in sight!””And they slice the antipasti too thin and dainty. I prefer my ham cut like steaks,” whined Jack “Huh?” Carlson. But then a new member spoke up. “This place may not have olive loaf, but it has bright-red Italma slicing machines that cut the imported charcuterie paper-thin. That’s the way it’s supposed to be, Jack. And all those salumi — by the way, Ed, all salami is salumi, but not all salumi is salami — are prettily placed upon wooden cheese boards for just $6 per choice (although the prosciutto di Parma and San Daniele are $10 and $12, which ain’t bad for those precious pork products). Plus bottles of wine start at $20 and get poured in tumblers. Oh yeah, the bread is baked fresh daily by Spuntino Bakery. So there you have it: the salumeria trifecta of great cured meats, delicious breads, and affordable wines. And chef/partner Angelo Masarin makes a spinach noodle lasagna and other authentic regional dishes that are worth a trip here even if you don’t like salumi. The room is casual, service is friendly — you have to love this place! As a matter of fact, I can’t wait to try the other 103!” “Hey, Bud,” said Ed. “You’re with the wrong group. The Dimwitted Realists are meeting at that table up front.”

You normally wouldn’t think of food trucks when you think of Edge Steak & Bar at the tony Four Seasons. Think again, because that’s the theme of the weekly Sunday brunch at Edge. In this imaginary food truck universe, there are no plastic forks. Your simple street fare is lovingly created by executive chef Aaron Brooks, and there are unlimited bloody marys, mimosas, and mojitos to round out your meal. Food stations are set up as different food trucks, serving Cuban roast suckling pig, Mexican tacos, Peruvian seafood, and desserts. Food trucks not your thing? A traditional carving station offers tomahawk steaks, and upscale brunch fare such as crab claws and snapper wrapped in banana leaves are available. Brunch is served Sundays from 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. At $75 per adult, this meal doesn’t come cheap, but it’s really the only way Muffy and Chip can have a food truck experience with white-glove service.

Want to gorge yourself but not with the same old Chinese buffet? Check out Camila’s Restaurante Brasileiro in the heart of downtown Miami. Don’t expect anything fancy, but it has the feel of a working-man’s joint. What you should expect is a delicious, authentic Brazilian meal, buffet style of course, for $12.95 — with free coffee (other drinks cost extra). Parking is a bit of a hassle, but filling yourself to the brim with a Brazilian buffet is well worth it. Feijoada (black beans with pork), vaca atolada, passionfruit pudding, fried chicken and pork, and much more is sold here. Camila’s is one of the better values in town and a refreshing change of pace.

In Miami, there are almost 100 food trucks. Most serve the same three items — burgers, tacos, and cupcakes. Then there’s Mr. Good Stuff, which offers the luna. If you’re asking, “What the heck is a luna?” you’re not alone. Contrary to popular belief, it is not lunch for moon men. We’re talking about pork and brisket slow-cooked for hours until the meat is tender, juicy, and filled with the flavors of your childhood home. These meats are cradled inside an arepa, a Venezuelan corn cake freshly made on a griddle. They are then topped with house-made slaws or pickled onions until they’re sloppy, messy, hot, and so satisfying you’ll be rolling your eyes toward heaven as meat juice trickles to your elbows. For eight bucks, your view of food trucks and the world, along with your waistline, will expand.

Remember the ice-cream truck driving slowly down the street as the sun fell on the playground swing set? As a familiar little jingle played, hot girls in Daisy Dukes writhed against the rooftop stripper pole as a fudge ripple cone melted over their suntanned breasts. Well, if you don’t have those exact childhood memories, the girls of Aphrodisiac Ice Cream invite you to make some new, sexier ones. The Aphrodisiac truck is the brainchild of Costa Rican model Jacqueline Suzanne, who can also be found grinding it low on the truck’s stripper pole and inviting you to try her wares. Sex sells, and here it sells ice cream made with all-natural ingredients. Depending on the event, the creamy goodies can be typical vanilla, chocolate, and cookie dough, or they can be wild, booze-spiked frozen treats. Either way, we think the Good Humor Man is out of a job. As for Mister Softee, let’s just say he’ll have a hard time living up to his name.

Everybody loves macaroni ‘n’ cheese, and everybody loves cute, cuddly monsters. Don’t believe us? Ask any kid if he or she would rather have a five-course tasting dinner at (fill in the blank with any overpriced, stuffy restaurant) or eat some warm mac ‘n’ cheese while watching Monsters Inc. Because children are acutely aware of what’s good in this world (their bullshit meters having not yet kicked in), we submit for your approval one purple food truck with a flying, single-horned cyclops as its mascot. The meal? Mac n’ Jack — macaroni in a bubbling bath of jack, colby, smoked Gouda, and sharp cheddar, mixed with broccoli for added color and nutrients, and topped with bread crumbs for crunch and texture. At only six bucks, it’ll make you think you’re in some sci-fi movie. Though Purple People Eatery’s mac ‘n’ cheese is real, alas, the monster is pure fiction. But make sure the closet door is closed — just in case.

Grilled cheese is probably the food we loved first and best. But as the years passed, we outgrew those sandwiches, G.I. Joe, and Barbie and moved on to more lively playmates and sophisticated fare. While we mourned the passing of our childhood, we figured that was the price to pay for being a grownup. Angelina’s Coffee & Yogurt says, “Screw that crap,” with the adult grilled cheese. Riffing on the concept of our childhood favorite with elevated ingredients, the small midtown coffeehouse offers nine sandwiches — all using decidedly big-boy ingredients such as Brie, Gouda, red onion, and goat cheese. We love the simply named “Number Three,” a salty and smoky blend of imported provolone, spicy chorizo, and arugula on oversize, fluffy country white bread. At $7.95 each, these are grilled cheese sandwiches to be paired with a good beer rather than chocolate milk. Now if someone would just invent bourbon-infused Goldfish.

There are five different ways to get your cubano at Sarussi Café & Restaurant, which has been serving a unique variation on the classic sandwich for five decades on Calle Ocho at 68th Avenue in West Miami. Try its “El Original” eight- or 16-inch ($5.93 or $11.87). The institution’s trademark sandwich comes with the usual sliced ham, roast pork, and pickles, but instead of Swiss cheese and mustard, El Original is made with mozzarella and a tangy red “secret sauce.” One more thing adds to its unique flavor: Rather than getting cooked on a grill, the sandwich goes into a pizza oven, the legacy of the place’s original incarnation as an Italian restaurant. For snackers and novices, there’s a $2.75 mini-cubano, a bite-size version with all the aforementioned key ingredients. And for the superhuman food warrior, there’s the “Man v. Food Original.” Named for the Adam Richman-hosted Travel Channel show, which visited Sarussi in 2010, this behemoth (served in eight- and 16-inch lengths for $12.10 and $22) comes with double the ham, double the baked pork, double the pickles, and double the cheese. If you finish the 16-incher — which comes graciously sliced into fourths — on the spot, you’ll score a place on the prominent wall of fame above the luncheonette counter.

There’s a whole lotta #trending going on in #Miami, like #gourmetmarkets for example. But sometimes you gotta go back to #whereitallstarted to get the real deal. Norman Brothers has been family-owned-and-operated for more than 40 years — way before #bacon, #honey, and #macaroons became cool and people knew what #umami was. Throughout the years, the faithful have stayed true to the original and picked up their #seafood, #fruits, #vegetables, #wines, #meats, #cheeses, and #oneofakind gourmet items at this Kendall mainstay. Besides all the grocery items available, you must try the #smoothies, #sandwiches, and #omgtheyaresoeffingdelicious duck dumplings. Norman Brothers is the real #OG.

Why is foodie synonymous with yuppie? No matter what our tax returns say, we all have taste buds, right? And weren’t the original foodies those Italian grandmas who spent all day cooking delectable dishes with simple and inexpensive ingredients? But in Miami — a town with an epic shortage of farmers’ markets and unpretentious specialty food stores — it’s tough to buy good ingredients without cleaning out your bank account. So Mr. Pasta shimmers like an oasis. The little store in North Beach sells a variety of fresh noodles in varieties ranging from egg to tomato to black squid. It also offers masterfully handcrafted gnocchi and ravioli. Prices start at $4 for a pound of noodles — enough to serve you and your date — and are worlds better than that stiff stuff from a cardboard box. It is also a hell of a lot easier than mixing and rolling your own dough. Cheeses — such as a one-pound ball of fresh mozzarella for $4 — taste better and cost less than anything you can buy at a supermarket. Imported canned tomatoes and sauces sell at competitive prices. Forget those extortion artists at the gourmet chains, and stock up here instead. Nonna would be proud.

Café 46 is to Joe Allen what Rhoda was to Mary Tyler Moore, what The X Factor is to American Idol, what one Rolling Stones album is to the previous one: a spinoff of the same ideas and some of the same players, except with a different name and played on a new stage. The most noteworthy returning player at Café 46 is owner/host/manager Mario Rubeo, the former co-owner/host/manager at Joe Allen, which ended its ten-year run in Miami Beach last year. Mario is the star at this venue (as he was at JA), his energetic congeniality making former Joe Allen patrons feel right at home — while bringing in new fans as well. The menu has hardly changed; the same font announces identical homespun comfort foods: pan-roasted matzo chicken, meatloaf with mashed potatoes, sautéed calf’s liver, a damn good hamburger, banana cream pie. Except for two steak offerings, main courses run $12 to $18. Beers and wines are equally budget-friendly. Like Joe Allen, Café 46 would be a great neighborhood restaurant regardless of what neighborhood you put it in. And that’s no spin.

Once upon a time, a Mexi-California boy named Alex Cuevas found he had a gift: He was an animal whisperer. Here’s the response he got from every quivering cow, pig, and fish he faced: “Please, don’t eat me. And tell the others.” He took his furry and slimy friends into his arms and promised to broadcast their message to his species. From coast to coast, Cuevas has honored that commitment, and Choices Vegan Café is his largest endeavor to date. He and his brother Jorge have assembled a menu that includes goodies such as delicious vegan pancakes (weekends only), supercharged “chili con kale,” and “the Vegan Assassin’s Insane Mexican Wrap,” which mimic traditional American classics and ease recovering omnivores into the vegan world. Choices also offers nutritionally optimal raw options such as nori wraps, jícama salad, and organic green juices. The Cuevas brothers are convinced that a healthy, eco-friendly, and animal-cruelty-free world doesn’t have to be a fairy tale, and they’re making a delectable contribution toward bringing their vision to life.

Let’s face it: Miami is no Queens. Nor is it Brooklyn. There is no such thing as a deli on every corner around here — but we sure wish there were. It would be the best of both worlds: sun year-round, white sandy beaches, and a house-cured pastrami sandwich on fresh rye with lots of mustard and a kosher dill. Can you feel it? Can you taste it? You can now. Head to Josh’s Delicatessen & Appetizing in Surfside for a ‘strami sammie, and then walk over to the beach — it’s only a block away, for Pete’s sake! Too sunburned for the beach? Or feeling a little chilly? Josh’s Deli has a winning recipe for matzo ball soup ($5.95). Five words: duck schmaltz and ginger beer. Just what the docta ordered.

When you’re too drunk to drink

(at say, 3:05)

And you’re tired of eating at greasy old dives,

Then go to Chow Down for some wontons and chives.

It’s inside a strip

That don’t look too nice.

But just walk in the door, go ahead, roll the dice.

It’s a chic, modern lounge that serves great Chinese rice.

Have a cocktail inside

(go ahead, just one more).

And just when you’re ’bout to fall down on the floor,

To the rescue — chow fun with fresh veggies galore!

Tomorrow you’ll care

(though tonight you’re carefree)

That the food you chowed down on had no MSG.

You ate kale and tofu at the end of your spree!

Come back when you’re sober

And peep the menu.

Duck bao, organic chicken wings, scallion-herb pancakes too!

If you don’t dig Chow Down, what the hell’s wrong with you?

So your Aunt Harriet and Uncle Sid are in town for the weekend and you get to show them the best of Miami. Do you really think they want to spend two hours of their rapidly depleting lifespan at some swankadelic restaurant eating foie gras tater tots? Nope! These folks are itching to see the real Miami, not über-trendy cafés filled with overinflated menus and boobs. They want Coopertown: population eight (humans) and about 1,000 gators. For more than 60 years, this little town/complex/tourist attraction/restaurant has been serving heaps of frogs’ legs and gator tail, along with beer and sweet tea to wash it down. Auntie will jump for joy at the jumper platter: a half-pound of legs from frogs freshly gigged from the Everglades, and Sid will be pleased to chomp on some fried gator tail — all at an early-bird-friendly meal (Coopertown closes at 6 p.m. daily). Afterward, take them for an airboat ride and let them see what they just ingested. This is the real Miami — where man eats ancient predator (and Kermit’s cousin).

Eating House just popped up one February night in the unassuming luncheonette-by-day Café Ponce. Giorgio Rapicavoli and Alex Casanova handed out menus of 12 to 15 foods (most $7 to $15, a few larger composed plates $20 to $25), three to five desserts, and a shortlist of craft beers ($6 or $7 per bottle) and boutique wines ($35 to $52 per bottle, $8 to $13 per glass). That’s what pop-ups do. Miami hasn’t experienced this impermanent dining phenomenon the way other American cities have, but what we lack in quantity (Eating House is at the moment our only entry) we make up for in quality (the food is unbelievably good). There is no defining gastronomic motif at work here; chef Rapicavoli, winner of Food Network’s Chopped competition, simply showcases his innovative takes on everything from Korean barbecue to fried chicken to what is surely the best fettuccine carbonara in Miami. And by “innovative takes” we mean items such as a Homestead tomato salad with ginger, lime, and nuoc cham accents and a sprinkling of peanuts, microherbs, and basil, all interspersed with quenelles of frozen coconut milk. There’s a kick-ass brunch too. Plans are to close up shop in August. That’s what pop-ups do. Still, there’s plenty of time to relish some of the best cuisine in town. Plus we’re hoping that come autumn, Rapicavoli and Casanova will pop up somewhere else.

Rosa’s outdoor tables sit by lily-pad ponds on the black-and-white stone mosaic of Lincoln Road’s trendiest block — right at the base of the Herzog & de Meuron-designed building, SoBe’s newest landmark. The soaring 3,500-square-foot indoor space (with 108 seats inside) is a dazzling realm melding the spirits of Mexico and South Beach. Both cultures, after all, exude a fondness for bright colors and a live-free-or-die attitude. No, wait, that’s not Mexico, but New Hampshire in the fall. Take that, Zapata. The décor is actually inspired by Mexico’s acclaimed architect Ricardo Legorreta, and it practically shouts its effulgent glee. During the day, natural light streaming luminously through floor-to-ceiling windows reflects off tall blue-glass columns and a spectacular travertine bar. At night, the room glows with vivid lighting and backlighting of various hues, as well as textured stone waterfalls displaying video of Acapulco cliff divers midflight — or sometimes of butterflies. Yet the potpourri of tinctures doesn’t lapse into gaudiness, but is balanced by dark wood floors and a sleek, seriously handsome design. Kudos to Seed Design Studio in New York for understanding Mexico and South Beach so well.

You can win this hall-of-fame type of award only once, and being a great chef won’t get you a ticket; you must prove your greatness over time. Past winners are Norman Van Aken, Mark Militello, Allen Susser, Pascal Oudin, Philippe Ruiz, Michelle Bernstein, Michael Schwartz, Douglas Rodriguez, Cindy Hutson, Jonathan Eismann, Dewey LoSasso, Jan Jorgensen, and Kris Wessel. Hedy Goldsmith is the first pastry chef to be inducted, and her dominance in this field has been so complete that the only surprise here is how long it took. After all, Goldsmith first dazzled us with her outrageous dessert buffets at Nemo beginning in 1995. She left that spot to join forces with the former Nemo chef at Michael’s Genuine Food & Drink. This was the ideal platform to launch her honest, whimsical, highly creative desserts. Her career took off, and the rest is patisse. Now Ms. Goldsmith’s creations are lauded on a national level. We add our humble kudos.

Giancarla Bodoni, along with her husband Pino, opened Escopazzo in 1993 and has been in charge of the kitchen since 1997. What other Miami chef has been at the helm of his or her own restaurant for that long? Right: Bodoni is in a class of her own. She not only was a pioneer among local female chefs but also led the organic/vegan/raw-food charge from the unlikeliest of places: an upscale Italian restaurant. Escopazzo, in fact, was the first certified-organic Italian restaurant in America. Bodoni wasn’t just ahead of Miami’s farm-to-table curve by a mile; she was ahead by a decade. Perhaps most important, Ms. Bodoni is a fantastic Italian cuoco whose delicate touch produces some of the best pasta, meat, fish (and of course vegetable) dishes around. We tip our toques to Giancarla for providing us with delectable, passion-fueled food for so long.

When it comes to this perfect meal of small plates and multitudinous tastes, Chef Philip Ho is the man. He more than proved that during his five-plus years as the dim sum chef at the Setai. Now, at this place of his own in North Miami Beach, he continues to impress with delectable dim sum. The carts roll around his multiroom restaurant on weekends from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. The rest of the time, the dim sum is brought from the kitchen, but either way the plates are magnificent. To wit: shumai filled with pork, shrimp, and mushrooms; semitranslucent dumplings stuffed with shrimp and chives; green-tea duck dumplings; shrimp with dried scallop dumplings — you get the idea. And those are just the dumplings. Equally tasty are barbecued spare ribs in spicy black bean sauce, taro cakes, rice noodles, fried flour sticks, and just about anything on the dim sum scorecard. That includes desserts like the orgasmic steamed egg custard lava bun. Small plates are $2.95, medium are $3.50, and large go for $3.95. The carts roll out and the crowd goes crazy.

The word tapas has taken on a slightly new meaning in America. It used to connote small bites culled from a lengthy playlist of traditional Spanish snacks. This was the exclusive domain of Spanish-style restaurants. Now, seemingly every restaurant trots out “tapas,” which are really any comestible portioned in petite fashion. Las Tapas de Rosa adheres to the old interpretation, which means plates of Manchego cheese, chorizo, pork loin, and cured ham. Then there are boquerones en vinagre (anchovies in vinegar), beef tripe with cured ham and blood sausage, chorizo a la sidra (in cider), legendary ham croquetas, tortilla española, octopus with hot paprika, and much more, including a whole menu of homestyle Spanish specialties. Just about all the tapas are under $10. Rosa Rodríguez, from Spain, opened the shop on Calle Ocho in 2005, and her daughter Gloria now oversees things. As you sit back with your tapas and perhaps a bottle selected from the extensive Spanish wine list, or maybe a pitcher of refreshing sangria, you might come to believe that tradition is greatly underrated.

Ceviche is the new sushi — to the rest of the country, that is. When sushi first appeared in Miami, it was probably considered the new ceviche, thanks to our vibrant Latin American community, which long ago introduced the Magic City to this refreshing macerated seafood specialty. It certainly isn’t anything new to Sam Gorenstein, who fondly remembers the cevicherias of his native Colombia. That’s what led him, along with partner Roger Duarte (of George Stone Crab), to open My Ceviche at the southern tip of South Beach last year. “Roger and I really felt the need for a good ceviche restaurant on Miami Beach,” the James Beard Award-nominated chef says. Prior to this venture, Gorenstein amassed a local fan base during his years heading the kitchen at BLT Steak. This take-out/delivery seafood venue, which also serves stone crabs and fish tacos, features a pretty simple system: Select your choice of seafood (shrimp, octopus, local fish) and then choose from six styles of ceviche, such as the version flavored with aji amarillo, tomato, onions, and mint. Or try the coconut water, avocado, red onions, cilantro, and lime. Maybe check out the Asian-style one with soy-citrus, ginger, red onions, tomato, mango, and cilantro. Popcorn comes on the side. It’s $11.75 for a generous “medium” size and $14.75 for a large portion. Sure, you’ve seen it all before. The question is whether you’ve seen it this good.

There really is no place like Sonia’s. It’s a neighborhood bar with live Latin music on weekends. It’s a fish market with plastic bins of crushed ice filled with fresh red snapper, yellowtail, hogfish, mangrove, calamari, lobsters, langostinos, and whatever else the day’s catch might bring. It’s a funky, Cuban-style outdoor seafood shack located by a canal at the point where SW Eighth Street edges toward the Everglades. Diners can select the fish they want and have it simply fried or grilled, and the menu includes soups, croquetas, ceviche, all manner of seafood preparations, fried pork chunks, grilled chicken steak, black beans and rice, and so forth. It isn’t nearly as cheap as the ambiance would suggest, but it’s not expensive either. Except for lobster and some other high-end shellfish, main courses tend to stay below $30. The place is nearly always packed, and the bar bops with a party spirit that might include staff wearing feathered headgear and forming a conga line. Sonia’s is like what you might find during happy hour in a beach shack in Latin America. Speaking of which: Sonia’s boasts one of the happiest happy hours every Thursday and Friday from 5 to 9 p.m. Service is leisurely and spoken in Spanish, which only adds to the authentic Latin American vibe.