Best Flop 2000 | People's Bar-B-Que | Best Restaurants, Bars, Clubs, Music and Stores in Miami | Miami New Times
Navigation
If you've never had a flop, or never even heard of one, it's time to make your move. Nearly every soul-food joint in Liberty City, Overtown, and Model City serves this mixture of iced tea and lemonade. It's a smooth and refreshing beverage, highly recommended for the coming season. We like People's mix because they brew the tea fresh. As for the name, no definitive answer could be learned from those who regularly partake. Perhaps it comes from flip-flop. Or maybe it's just meant to be drunk on those searing summer days so hot you can't do anything but flop down and sip a cool one.
Situated within a block of county hall and the old courthouse, this breezy cafetería brews the black gold that fuels the machinery of Miami-Dade government (such as it is). Though the kind souls behind the counter are mostly Nicaraguan, they've mastered the ancient Cuban secret of making espresso both strong as battery acid and sweet as an abuelita's smile. Your next trip to the main library will be incomplete without a trip to Cacique's Corner for a colada that will make your tongue bristle like an angry hedgehog.
One of our most beloved Mexican eateries, this hacienda frequently scores points with us for individual items, namely the smokin' hot fajitas. But you really can't go astray with any of the homestyle fare, whether you order nachos or ceviche or albondiguitas (meatballs). Throw in some tasty house specialties, like the zesty chicken nuggets coated with flour and jalapeño pepper juice; a strolling mariachi band that doesn't overstay its welcome; and kitschy surroundings that include examples of every type of Mexican souvenir ever made, and you've got yourself a complete experience -- almost. Utter fulfillment arrives in the form of the frozen margarita, naturally, the ultimate complement to some spicy meatballs.
There is more to MiMi's than just ravioli. Pyramids of imported Italian canned tomatoes stand sentry in the large front window. Along one wall shelves overflow with olive oils, vinegars, artichoke and palm hearts, olives, sauces, plus myriad goodies. In the center of the store sit nuts and salty snacks, sweets such as marzipan and imported chocolates, cookies, and candies. Along the other wall are a freezer and refrigerated cases loaded with gnocchi, tortellini, ravioli, an array of sauces, and prepared specialties like eggplant rollatini. Further down in the fridge are prosciutto, soppresatta (mild and hot), hard salami, and more, plus wondrous fresh pasta (plain and spinach) in every shape: tubes, strands, curls. At the very end lies a selection of healthy frozen pasta dishes and, of course, the succulent ravioli. Medium- and jumbo-size, stuffed with seafood, pumpkin, goat cheese, porcini mushrooms, broccoli and cheese, chicken, even a skim-milk version for dieters. A variety of Italian cookies and fresh mozzarella, plain or smoked, still beckon. The small, densely packed market, in place for ten years at its current location, resided just down the street for seven years before. A sister emporium on Hollywood's Johnson Street has been around for 30 years. Fill up on the goods from 9:00 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Monday through Saturday.
Say what you will about the French, but anyone witnessing the worldwide millennium celebrations would have to agree: They've got style. So does La Palme d'Or, an already excellent restaurant that was elevated further by that rarest of occurrences, an inspired marketing idea. During the first week of each month, a guest Michelin-rated chef prepares signature dishes from his restaurant in France. For lovers of fine Gallic cuisine, nothing can top this opportunity to sample fare from chefs such as Paul Bocuse, or Alain Passard of Paris's amazing Restaurant Arpége. Regular La Palme chef Philippe Ruiz is enough of a talent in his own right to make it the best French restaurant, even without these Michelin masters. Want proof? One bite of his foie gras ravioli with goat cheese mousse and black truffle shavings should do. Bonus best scam: Wear a bathing suit under your dining apparel and sneak a postdinner dip in the hotel's alluring swimming pool.
A fajita is a fajita: some kind of meat, chicken, or fish, served on a sizzling platter with a bunch of standard bell peppers and onions. On the side you'll receive some chopped tomatoes, shredded lettuce, refried pinto beans, maybe a little guacamole or sour cream, plus some flour tortillas to roll around it all. Agreed? Not if you've been to La Gloria. Here, beef or chicken fajitas are sautéed with onions, but instead of bell peppers you'll find palate-tingling poblanos on the hot plate. Refried beans are made with the black turtle variety rather than the light-brown pintos. And tortillas, served warm and coddled in a woven basket, are soft, homemade corn disks, not commercially produced, bleached flour patties. As a result customers discover how fajitas, which are so ubiquitous you can find them at Taco Bell, are meant to be. Fans can pick up a La Gloria fajita, and -- you guessed it -- drop the chalupa for real.
In 1992 Hurricane Andrew destroyed the original O.C.O.C. (or O.C. for short), then located on Old Cutler Road. But fisherman Mike Pace soon resurrected his pub-style restaurant a few miles west on a busier strip. Oyster lovers will be merry as clams during happy hour (4:00 to 7:00 p.m. daily) when draft beers are $1.50 per glass and the rocklike mollusks are $4 per dozen (usually the fee is $7 per dozen). Executive chef Kevin MacWhinnie and owner Mike Pace conduct meticulous inspections to keep bad oysters at bay, assures hostess Ivonne Bley. "They're really picky," she observes. "They go beyond the call of duty." Peel-and-eat shrimp fans can choose three varieties: traditional, garlic, and Cajun. Clams run $6 per dozen.
Ripe, tender young legumes swimming in a smoky sauce, the barbecue beans at Shorty's are more than just a side dish; they are a tangy treat to be savored all on their own. Naturally no one is suggesting you should sit in an enclosed restaurant where everyone is filling up on baked beans, and baked beans alone. Our point is merely that the beans at Shorty's deserve more credit for being so damn good. We think they are every bit as important as the ribs and chicken cooking on the grill. And we're willing to fight any man, woman, or child who says otherwise.
John Kenneth Galbraith's observation that more people die in the United States of too much food than they do of too little must have been gleaned over a lifetime of eating T-bones the size of small-town airstrips and boulder-size baked potatoes at various American steak houses. It's this conformity of the genre that makes choosing the best steak house, excuse the expression, a real horserace. Morton's crosses the finish line first not merely because of its USDA prime cuts of meat (though these are, it seems, just a little bit tastier than the rest) but also owing to superior service, seafood, side dishes, and desserts -- especially the sultry Godiva hot chocolate cake. Like at all steak houses, you pay for the quality. Galbraith's quotation appears in The Affluent Society, an apt phrase for those who can afford to dine here regularly. Then again there's something about seeing beefy businessmen stuffed into plush red banquettes that makes cutting into a thick steak that much more rewarding.
Neighborhood restaurants usually are friendly and informal places that proffer generous helpings of consistent if modest food to an appreciative local clientele. Crystal Cafe's crisp white linens, fresh flowers, comprehensive wine selection, and semiformal service would seemingly add up to a finer dining experience than we expect from this category, yet a closer look through the Crystal reveals it to be a humble, family-run affair with no pretense or PR firm. Chef Klime Kovaceski can dazzle with a starter of warm pistachio-crusted goat cheese with truffle oil and raspberry-balsamic reduction, or comfort with New Continental dishes like beef stroganoff that are more reflective of his Macedonian roots. Wife Huguette adroitly orchestrates among the best (but still friendly) waitstaffs on the Beach, and because she and Klime are always present, the restaurant's consistency remains unparalleled. It's elegant, yes, but for the locals, Crystal Cafe remains a joy in the 'hood.

Best Of Miami®

Best Of Miami®