The first symptom of the craving is when everything else you eat suddenly feels like chewing chalk. You suddenly understand why people are addicted to getting tattoos and body piercings -- that desire for stimulation sets in. Mustard and horseradish and onions, endowed with unnamable healing properties, begin appearing in your dreams. Or perhaps it is some primordial connection to the sea, this sudden craving for brine and salt and fish oil that insistently pesters and will not shut up. This feeling can be satisfied only by entering Arnie and Richie's and witnessing the slabs of Nova Scotia and belly lox and sable sprawled in a glass display case and sniffing that smell, the one that separates the lover of flavorful food from the finicky hipster. You sit down and await your platter; spread the cream cheese carefully on your toasted onion bagel; layer it with the pink fish, a ripe tomato, and some onions; love that you are going to smell like this all day. One bite and you're transported to the tenement housing of your ancestors, to their love for the pungent, for the pumpernickel and rye. You utter a silent thanks for their persistence, which took them from the ice fields of Eastern Europe all the way here, to paradise, where you honor them through eating. Most dishes cost less than $10; breakfast ranges from $3.50 to $7.

Like many of their countrymen, Carlos and Rosalina Martinez fled their native Nicaragua in the summer of 1979, within days of the Sandinistas' taking control of the civil-war-ravaged nation. There was no way the couple would have remained in their homeland, considering Carlos was one of a handful of West Point-educated captains enlisted in Anastasio Somoza Debayle's reviled national guard. "I didn't even know how to fry an egg before coming to Miami," Rosalina reveals. "But we had to find a way to earn a living." In 1981 husband and wife opened El Masayita, named after their Nicaraguan hometown. The only local Nica restaurant with more longevity than El Masayita is venerable steak house Los Ranchos. Located in Little Havana, El Masayita is also more moderately priced than its high-end counterpart. A churrasco dinner costs only $10, while a seafood platter of pescado a la tipi tapa is a reasonable $14. On the weekends, El Masayita makes other popular Nicaraguan dishes such as bajo (shredded pork meat with yuca and salad) for $7, vigoron (salad and yuca) for $3, and small and large cups of sopa de mondongo (a creamy broth made with tripe) for $3.50 and $6, respectively.

Crammed to the rafters with good things to eat and drink, this cozy little shop presents a welcome slice of European civilization in our hurry-up-and-get-out-of-my-way urban treadmill. As the name suggests, cheese is the market's specialty. You can also pick up almost everything else, from caviar to dried mushrooms, along with wines from a small yet thoughtfully chosen selection. As you would expect from a cheese shop, the relevant curds are properly cared for, neatly displayed, and packaged in portions small enough to make trying something new an affordable endeavor. The selections includes some 200 different cheeses ranging from the familiar to extraordinary. Although you may certainly grab your cheese and go, a more civilized approach would be to order a cheese and charcuterie platter, select a bottle of wine, and sit at one of the tiny sidewalk tables, nibbling and sipping and watching the rest of the world churn on that endless urban treadmill.

It often seems that with ethnic cuisine, the less obvious and ornate the location, the better the food. Salmon Salmon is discreetly tucked into an unassuming strip mall near Miami International Airport. The small interior is decorated with a few gold Inca plates, and fishing nets cover the ceiling. But patrons do not come to Salmon Salmon for an extravagant dinner served on a silver platter and sided by sumptuous silverware; the home-style Peruvian cooking is the real gem here. Although seafood dominates the menu, salmon accounts for only a few dishes -- the place is named after its founder, Fabio Salmon. Peruse the menu while snacking on a sinus-clearing aji picante dipping sauce and bread. Allow your taste buds to recover, and then order the ceviche -- a must when indulging in Peruvian fare. For $12.75, you will receive a platter of citrus-tinged ceviche topped with sliced onions and potato chunks. Eat the dish as it comes or add a heaping of seafood fit for Atahualpa himself. Other meal options include huancaína potatoes, clams topped with onions and tomatoes, oyster cocktail, octopus, and all kinds of seafood chicharrón. Several of the plates are cooked creole-style, such as the pasta with beef tips and seafood. Although you will not find any poultry at Salmon Salmon, the skirt steak will satisfy any carnivorous cravings. Tender, chewy sautéed tips of beef are as delicious as they are affordable -- $14.25 for a dish large enough for two.

Those with a sweet tooth will have a heart attack -- we hope only figuratively -- upon entering Vicky Bakery. Elaborate cakes decorate the windows, while Danishes, buns, glory bread, and other baked goods lie glistening or powdered behind glass. The bakery itself is simple: white, nondescript, and sterile. But who needs fancy décor when colorful, sugar-saturated goodies are adornment enough? As if regular flan weren't deliciously rich enough, Vicky also offers cheesecake flan. Cue the heart attack. The sweet custard and creamy cheesecake texture topped with caramel is a guilty pleasure worth those extra 500 calories. For $2 you can savor the taste of Heaven in a small individual serving. Large trays of flan are also available to feed hungry party guests.

From the white-linen tablecloths to the black-suited waiters, everything about Casa Paco screams expensive. But this restaurant, long as it is on atmosphere and excellent food, is shockingly cheap. A diner can easily make a full meal out of the excellent tapas offered at Casa Paco; one standout is the alcachofas salteadas, artichoke hearts sautéed in olive oil with chunks of Serrano ham (a heaping portion, served in a cast-iron pan, costs $10). But many entrées hover around the $10 mark as well, with some real delicacies offered at half the price you would expect. For instance, the Basque-style black grouper (cooked in a white seafood sauce and garnished with hard-boiled eggs and white asparagus) costs only $13. Almost all the lunch specials are less than $10.

An Italian franchise that opened its doors in Miami in 2001, Bacio's gelato is simply the most delizioso. At least two dozen flavors are available on any given day, ranging from nutty (hazelnut, toasted almond) to fruity (lemon, mango) to chocolaty (at least five different variations on the basic flavor are offered). A small cone is $3.55, and a cup is $4.31. Creamy, airy, never overly sweet, and made fresh locally, Bacio's gelato approximates dessert perfection.

Just when know-it-alls think it's safe to categorically poo-poo all Thai/sushi joints as cheesy hybrid sell-outs, a place like Oishi (translation: delicious) comes along. Since moving from Thailand in 1993, opening a first-rate restaurant has been the dream of chef/owner Piyarat B. Arreeratn (just call him Bee). The place's class is apparent before the first bite thanks to a tastefully sophisticated décor devoid of gaudy gilt elephants or The King and I paraphernalia. The cooking is equally classy. Thai entrées are authentically complex and balanced -- rich red curries ($8.95 lunch, $19.95 dinner) and sweet/salty/slightly tangy Panang curries ($8.95 lunch, $14.95 dinner) are especially tasty. Most dishes are available with your choice of meat, poultry, or seafood. Choose seafood; Bee hits the local docks twice daily for the freshest of fish. The impeccable quality of ingredients makes Oishi's sushi component more than equal to the Thai food. We suggest ordering from the list of chef specials, which are imaginative fusion dishes inspired by his stint at Nobu -- but they cost much less than the originals.

Ignore the droves of soccer moms chauffeuring their sugar-craving offspring. And block out the Saturday-night teenybopper brigade heading postmovie to this South Miami institution. The smooth, creamy deliciousness that is Whip 'N Dip ice cream makes it worthwhile. Although the traditional chocolate and vanilla are always on tap, exotic flavors, including coconut and white chocolate mousse, rotate. That means you might have to make several trips back to ensure you try a cup or cone of each -- because they're all that good.

If you're hungering for a reasonably priced hunk of expertly grilled churrasco, juicy blood sausage, or succulent sweetbreads, you head to your favorite Argentine restaurant, right? Wrong, or at least you should consider dining at Zuperpollo. Located on Coral Way just minutes from downtown Miami, this cozy Uruguayan eatery has been dishing up some of the tastiest parrillada this side of Montevideo for almost twenty years. It may look like a hole-in-the-wall from the outside, but inside, this cozy restaurant is clean, inviting, and usually packed. And not without good reason. The fare is heartily portioned, all homemade, and consistently fresh, and dinner will not break the bank -- in fact it will barely even make a dent. Mixed barbecue for two -- a sizzling platter laden with flank steak, churrasco, chicken, sweetbreads, blood sausage, sausage, and English short ribs -- costs $25.95. Served with your choice of two sides -- the purée is creamy and downright delicious -- and hands-down the best chimichurri in town, this fabulous feast will leave you rubbing your stomach and wondering how to say "doggy bag" in Spanish. If bloody slabs of red meat are not your thing, don't worry: Zuperpollo has something equally delectable for you too. Choose from an array of housemade pastas, sandwiches, traditional Latino appetizers, or chicken, which is served no less than 50 different ways ($7.95 to $10.95). Wash it down with an ice-cold beer or a glass of wine, and you'll be bidding buenas noches to Buenos Aires before you know it.