Best Delicatessen 2000 | Laurenzo's Italian Market | Best Restaurants, Bars, Clubs, Music and Stores in Miami | Miami New Times
A family-owned market since 1964, Laurenzo's offers a unique experience here in South Florida. "We're a snapshot in time," offers David Laurenzo, who runs the market along with his sister, Carol, and their father, Ben. "We're like a piece of Little Italy back in the Fifties." Everything in the store offers authentic Italian cuisine, from their homemade ravioli to the mozzarella, made fresh every morning. Their cousin Roberto, who still lives in the old country, also keeps the store stocked with items that can only be found in Italy. Laurenzo's deli section is filled with marvelous treats for the tongue, such as the pepperoni-mozzarella bread and spinach pies. But it is perhaps one of the simpler delicacies that speaks volumes about Laurenzo's. Their rice pudding is nothing short of heavenly. "Like your grandmother made," David says. If only all our grandmothers cooked so well.

Best Wine Selection In A Restaurant


If sheer numbers alone could point out a great wine list, then Indigo easily takes top honors, with more than 700 vintages from which to quaff. But as with most things, when it comes to wine, quality is more important than quantity. Fortunately this restaurant, located in the lobby of the Inter-Continental, proves itself thrice over with wines that range from a 1995 Château Lascombes from France to a 1996 Ferrari-Carano Alexander Valley chardonnay from California to a 1997 Yalumba Botrytis Sémillon from Australia. The wine list highlights a "Southern Hemisphere Selection," from which fans of Australian, New Zealand, and South African fermentations can consume to their palates' content. The restaurant also offers bargains in the form of a featured "wine of the month" and prix-fixe wine luncheons, at which several courses are served and several complementary wines are poured. The latter usually take place in the wine room, a glass-walled area off to the side of the lobby, where serious grape discussions often ensue. Given the eatery's dedication to wine, perhaps the name would have been better served by being called something like Rouge, Blanc, or Plum, rather than Indigo.
There they are. Piled atop your palomilla steak. They're hand-cut, golden, crisp on the outside, tender on the inside. You down half of them before you even think of cutting into that beef. The waiter knows they're good. He offers you more papitas after you and the others at the table make the first batch disappear. Your answer: Sí, sí, sí.
The intentions of Tuscan Steak should be obvious: That T-bone is meant to feed a family. Likewise that serving of three-mushroom risotto with truffle oil, or the herb-grilled rack of lamb with the green apple-basil chutney, or the oven-roasted duck with cranberry chutney. Prices indicate the restaurant's philosophy, as does the credo written on the menu: "At Tuscan Steak all portions are served family style and [are] intended for sharing." But note that the intro also allows that in this eatery, "there are no rules." In other words who says you have to share? So go ahead -- dine singly, order doubly, and make a pig (or a duck or a steak) of yourself.
There are some great health food stores in Miami, but on the whole, Whole Foods has more and often better stuff. Seems there's always something you didn't see on your last visit: the latest chlorophyll/kelp tabs; a new herb mixture to strengthen the lungs; bricks of dark chocolate from Prague or other distant cities; exotic organic plums, kumquats, and pomegranates; champagnes; soy concoctions you've never heard of. Whole Foods' own brand of vitamins and sauces and teas and frozen veggies, et cetera, are, well, really good. The place makes a chipotle-chili salsa that kills. And the fresh seafood/poultry/meat section is hard to beat for the likes of free-range chicken, hormone-free beef, and fresh sausages that Jimmy Dean never imagined (try the chicken-basil-spinach, or Greek-style lamb). Whole Foods' new store north of its old location is, while giant, very pleasant. Sometimes there's even a masseur stationed near the entrance, ready to properly relax you for a complete holistic shopping experience.
Most of the handful of Mexican restaurants in town seem to cater to Mexican-American tastes. El Fogon's fare hails from further south of the border (including the Yucatán), and the difference is reflected in the quality and style of their humble burritos. The chicken is seasoned and seared, the picadillo (seasoned ground beef) is divine, but best of all is the cochinita pibil -- chunks of tender pork stewed in the red, delicately tart pibil sauce. When wrapped in a tortilla with refried beans and enrobed in melted cheese, the cochinita crosses over from sublime to ridiculously good. Oh, and the burritos are huge; a party of two should consider ordering a cup of tortilla soup each, then sharing the monster. That way they won't have to roll you out.

Best Restaurant For The Hearing Impaired

Joe's Stone Crab

Act I: The front desk. A middle-age gentleman in a plaid sport coat waits in a ten-person line. He finally reaches the host, who is taking down names.

Host: How many?

Patron: What?

Host (impatiently): How many in your party?

Patron: Oh. Four.

Host: That'll be a two-hour wait.

Patron (disbelieving): Huh?

Host (shouting): Two hours!

Patron (still not sure he heard correctly): Huh??

Host: Two hours! Two hours!

Act II: The bar

Bartender: What'll it be?

Patron: What?

Bartender (impatiently): What do you want to drink?

Patron: Oh. I'll have a gin and tonic.

Bartender: What??

Patron (shouting): Gin and tonic!

Act III: The dining room, five gin and tonics later.

Waiter: Can I take your order?

Patron is silent.

Waiter (shouting): Whaddya want to eat?

Patron tilts sideways in his chair and falls over with a loud thump. The captain is called over. He assesses the situation and then drags the man out by his ankles to make way for the next party. The man's head bumps on the tile all the way to the door: thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack.... And you thought all that noise was from cracking stone crab shells.

Sure South Beach has all the trendy restaurants, but as any sunburned tourist can tell you, the service there is uniformly slow and sassy. Too many models and would-be-somebodies moonlighting as waiters. At Fishbone Grille the waitstaff actually appears to be enjoying the job. They are attentive without hovering, swift without making you feel rushed, and have an encyclopedic knowledge of the food on the menu and the extensive wines on the list. And they are routinely happy to recommend the best, freshest catch that day, even if it's not the priciest item on the menu. The secret apparently is in the selection: Management tries to hire people with the right mix of congeniality and professionalism. The waitstaff must also take written and oral quizzes during training. It all adds up to an A.
Executive chef-proprietor of Pacific Time Jonathan Eismann goes slumming with this new venture, a remake of Johnny V's Kitchen. And what a pleasant redo it is: The narrow storefront has been converted into a minidiner, complete with blue-and-white tiles, booths for two, and a counter with a Fifties soda fountain. The ideal place for a nosh after a movie or a quickie lunch steps from the touristy grind of Lincoln Road, Westside offers old-timey diner favorites such as meat loaf, burgers, and open-face hot roast beef sandwiches. Certainly it's not the place for a vegetarian (salad options are few and somehow unfetching when paired against grilled barbecue pork chops) but Fox's U-Bet fans clearly have no cause for complaint. The egg cream at Westside is worthy of Manhattan's Lower East Side, and hey, it saves us a trip to the Big A for a simple thirst quencher. Just remember to hit the ATM before dropping by. As it was in the olden days, at Westside only cash is acceptable commerce.
You're in the office, it's midafternoon, and that sweet tooth starts clamoring for attention. A thick, creamy, fruity drink would quiet the ruckus, but you don't want that artificial stuff the fast-food joints peddle. It's too far to drive to the farms in Homestead to get the real thing. The alternative is this roadside stand just south of U.S. 1. Take your pick of fresh papaya, mango, or kiwi juice, or mix and match to create a new concoction. Nonfat frozen yogurt keeps the calories down, and a scoop of protein or ginseng can be added for a boost of energy. Price is on the high side at $4.25, but think of all the gas you're saving. You can get your fix between 9:00 a.m. and 9:00 p.m. Monday through Saturday.

Best Of Miami®

Best Of Miami®