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Joe Corbett greets customers while wearing a belt with fish embroidered on it and a button that reads, "I'm protecting what's in my genes. Are you?" Corbett thus models his two main passions: vitamins and fish. Most people know Corbett for the latter. The walls of his store are decorated with photographs of happy customers and their prize catches, mostly monstrous mahi-mahi. Also filling the place are numerous lures and a collection of antique rods and reels. The display counters and stands are replete with a wide variety of fishing accouterments, from maps to tools for constructing flies. In the back a family member expertly repairs fishing gear on a little workbench. Nearby several freezers are stocked full of frozen ballyhoo, silversides, menhaden, and other species. Two water tanks teem with live shrimp that are sure to entice fish onto your hook. And if you visit Kendall Bait and Tackle, chances are, with a minimum of prompting, Corbett will preach the gospel of a happy life through vitamins.
Retail stores and malls in Miami-Dade County continue to multiply exponentially, complicating the question of where to shop. Oh the Falls has its merits: lush foliage, soothing sounds of water, and a view of the sky. But on a sticky summer day, when it rains sideways, you better hope you're not strolling down the sidewalk toting your brand-new wedding dress. The fortresslike Shops at Sunset Place also boasts that indoor/outdoor thing, including fake trees and a lot more concrete. The IMAX theater is swell, but the joint is really just an inward-looking CocoWalk. Bal Harbour? Too chichi, even though the Everyman Gap and Banana Republic are there. But pay to park our car? Don't think so, even less because the management is squabbling with a neighboring church. Tacky! We like to stay dry, not feel claustrophobic, park for free, and, of course, enjoy a wide selection of shops, restaurants, movie theaters, and myriad free events like antique and flower shows. Aventura more than meets all those requirements. After a multimillion-dollar revamp, it touts major anchors such as Burdines, Bloomingdale's, and Macy's; 250 specialty stores, including chains like Restoration Hardware, BCBG, and Nine West; plus a smattering of independent boutiques. There's also 24 new theaters and enough food to feed a Third World country for years. An early morning mall-walking exercise program is available for those who overindulge. Quite simply shopping utopia.
Worldwide is a perennial winner for the simple reason that it's hard to imagine poking around the store's carefully arranged array of international newspapers, glossy magazines, and offbeat cultural rags, and leaving empty-handed. There's simply a mind-boggling wealth of reading options. Looking for a take on Northern Ireland that differs from the mainstream media? Try a copy of the Irish Voice, which features a weekly column straight from the eloquent pen of Sinn Fein head honcho Gerry Adams. Out-of-the-ordinary music more your speed? How about snagging the Beat, which focuses on world grooves; No Depression, which covers the altcountry universe; La Banda Elastica, a colorful chronicle of the latest in rock en español; or the hoary punk-rock bible Maximum Rock and Roll? Sure, Worldwide also carries popular faves such as The New Yorker, Rolling Stone, and (ahem) Miami New Times, but isn't the hot-off-the-presses issue of the Hemp Times precisely what's missing from your life?
In a small warehouse Liliana Perez stores papier-mâché creations, some up to six feet tall and covered in crepe paper of every hue imaginable. Each week Perez says she moves about 200 piñatas, including bright-green dragons, coffee-color horses, jolly clowns, and even butterflies. Drum-shape piñatas are stacked to the ceiling; they go for wholesale prices to party-supply stores. "I can make a piñata for any occasion," Perez boasts. A few years ago Metrozoo asked Perez to make five life-size animals for display. During the Christmas season, she produces Santa Clauses. And some corporations have ordered their company logos in the form of piñatas. Perez even made a perfectly round sun with tentaclelike rays that brightened up a little boy's winter birthday party. When the children pulled on its orange, yellow, and red strings, a shower of sweets poured down on them. Prices for Perez's piñatas range from $12 to $250.
Years ago, when a New Times writer was in graduate school in North Carolina, she took an independent-study course on Latin-American women writers. And no place in the United States did a better job of delivering the works of the most exhilarating escritoras than Juan Manuel Salvat's Little Havana shop. When the New Times writer headed south to teach graduate school in Colombia, Salvat provided a semester's stock of Spanish translations of English works by U.S. Latino writers. In business more than 30 years, the Salvat family has developed a bibliographic expertise helpful to scholars and dilettantes alike. Although Universal specializes in Cuban books, the shelves also include a wide selection of everything else imaginable. Squeezed in alongside the complete works of Lydia Cabrera and José Martí are treasures ranging from Argentine classics to daring new works from Spain. Best of all Universal hosts monthly Saturday-afternoon visits from the writers published by Salvat's press, Ediciones Universal. The lively discussions provide living proof that Universal is a bookstore for people who not only love to read, but love to think.
For practitioners of Santería and vodou, mystery has always been the vessel of the sacred. Since the days of colonialism, when slaves kept African gods alive by cloaking them with the names of Catholic saints, keeping a secret has meant preserving one's culture. Although the world has changed, practitioners of syncretic religions today are as secretive as ever. Indeed reticence may be the very measure of quality. This year's choice shop for incense, spell-casting oils, and books of the trade is Vierge Miracle and Saint Philippe Botánica. For days the female attendant at this shop kept New Times at bay, refusing to answer even the most basic questions. The store's façade is playfully decorated in purple-painted faux bricks. Ezili Dantó, a mother-warrior spirit depicted as the Virgin Mother with child, is painted high above the entrance doors. Compas music from a nearby record store flows through the incense-scented air inside. Colorful, sequined libation bottles featuring deities' pictures fill the top rows of a glass-enclosed bookshelf. And in a nod to Afro-Cuban culture, you can find candles and perfume staples like Rompe Brujo (spell breaker), Intranquilo (restless), and Ven-a-mi (come to me). For serious ailments of the body and soul, a consultation with owner Elsie Joseph is recommended. If lack of faith puts a damper on your cure, the vibrant colors of Little Haiti street life at NE 59th Street and Second Avenue will chase away those doubt-creating spirits.
Granted CD Warehouse is a chain of stores. Yet unlike Home Depot or Bennigan's, the four used-CD peddlers in Miami-Dade County reflect their communities. This is true because their suppliers are their customers. Ergo the CD Warehouse in Miami Lakes has a high concentration of Latin music, which mirrors the salsa-loving population in the north end of the county. In Kendall kids trade CDs of Gothic and industrial music. The Coral Gables store, located near the University of Miami, carries numerous alternative and hip-hop discs. Our favorite is the Biscayne Boulevard location, which boasts a fine collection of Motown, reggae, blues, and plain old rock and roll. Here you can find everything from rarities to your favorite greatest-hits compilation. And there is enough turnover that a weekly visit is worthwhile. Check this out: When you buy ten discs, the eleventh is free.
"The orange suit will work," says Rochell "Raquel" Greene, assisting a customer in her small Washington Avenue boutique. "The one in your hand ... not for you! Don't even bother trying it on." For three years Greene has been selling Brazilian bikinis and high-end Italian lingerie to the fashionably svelte denizens of South Beach. An expert on fit, Greene appraises the figure of every woman who walks in and steers them toward ensembles that best suit their body type. If a bikini fails to flatter, she refuses to sell it. "If someone leaves my store with a suit they don't feel comfortable wearing, they'll never come back. It makes business sense to make my customers happy." Such exceptional service allows her small shop (the entire place is no larger than a walk-in closet) to survive Washington Avenue's boom-and-bust economy. She discounts her designer underwear, but style comes at a price; a frugal customer could save money at Victoria's Secret, though that's a purchase Greene would lobby against. "Their stuff is garbage," she says with a sniff. "Garbage!"
Photo by Zachary Fagenson
El Palacio doesn't look like a palace, but then your body doesn't really resemble a temple. At this rustic little produce market, you can juice up en estilo muy Miamiense. The menu includes squeezings from a spectrum of tropical fruits, including maracuya (passion fruit), tamarindo (tamarind), guanábana (soursop), papaya, mamey, and guayaba (guava). Also available: melón (cantaloupe), sandía (watermelon), coco (coconut), naranja (orange), and manzana (apple). The seriously healthy juice-hound can request zanahoria (carrot) and remolacha (beet). If you've been searching for the nectar of the gods, try a papaya colada, a blend of coconut and papaya juices (liquor not included). All juices cost $1.25 per glass, or $4 for a gallon jug (except mamey, which costs $5).
Stop picking random bottles of wine from those shelves at Publix. Just stop it. I mean, what are you doing, really? Trying to infer from the price tag and pretty pictures on the label how good the wine is? When the expertise of Chip Cassidy and his knowledgeable staff are at your disposal, why would you leave your wine selection to chance? And don't let those piles of frou-frou gourmet finger foods fool you; the people at Crown are just as happy to steer you to a $7 German Riesling (which might actually go better with your meal than the $13 one right next to it) as they are to a $319 bottle of chateau-whatever champagne. The winnah and still champeen.

Best Of Miami®

Best Of Miami®