A thunderstorm rages outside the Original Ranch House when a vintage Chevy truck pulls into the parking lot. A man clad in a poncho, plaid shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots climbs out of the driver's side. He high-steps to the front door and swings it open. The joint still has the charm of a '70s truck stop in the Appalachian Mountains despite its location in Miami-Dade's most Cuban-American city. He takes off the wet poncho and hangs it on the dry rack near the cash register. A waitress offers him a seat at one of the red leather booths. He respectfully declines, telling her that he prefers to sit at the Formica counter. He straddles a red swivel stool, reading the burger and sandwich options on the menu. He orders a patty melt on sourdough bread. The $8.55 plate comes with steak fries, his favorite kind. Some folks like their spuds crinkly or thin or cut into waffles. Not this fry guy. From his seat at the counter, he can see the cook methodically peel and slice a potato into thick white sticks. The dude's mouth curls into a smile when the fries are dropped into a scalding fryer. The waitress brings him his order. He picks up one of the golden treats. He caresses the crisp exterior and snaps the fry in half. Steam rises from the severed ends. He blows on the fry to cool it and pops it into his mouth. Outside, the downpour ceases. The Original Ranch House is open seven days a week.

Although falafel has evolved into a classic and often-craved street food — much like hot dogs or pizza —the chickpea fritters are traditionally served as part of the meze or small plates in Mediterranean cuisine. But we're guessing your latest exposure to the Hellenic Republic was watching Russell Brand and Jonah Hill binge-drink and vomit their way through Get Him to the Greek. We place no blame. Miami isn't exactly overflowing with Greek culture (except maybe the country's licorice-flavored boozahol, ouzo). That why it's surprising to find that one of the town's best-kept foodie secrets is an unassuming taverna on the Little River called Anise. Nestled between a gas station and a rundown apartment complex, and across the street from a Wendy's (are we selling it yet?), this Greek taverna produces our city's tastiest falafel. You get five of these morsels for $8. Instead of being wrapped in flatbread and piled with pickled veggies and hot sauce, Anise's falafels are delicately plated with a yogurt-tahini sauce — in other words, you actually get to taste the Greek croquettes and not just the spicy fixings. Although you might be tempted to order multiple servings, save room for the taverna's larger plates such as moussaka ($18) and lamb shank ($19). Almost every dish here is delicious, but we'll always remember our first mouthful at Anise: the supple, fried goodness of its falafel.

Call it an extension of Murphy's Law: The last place you'd ever think to look for something is where it usually is. Your car keys? Yup, they're lodged under that unread Dr. Phil book your aunt gave you. That green T-shirt you haven't seen in weeks? Balled up into a tiny space you didn't know existed between your TV set and faux fireplace. The best hummus in Miami? Calle Ocho. No lie. Amid the cafecito-slinging counters and Mexican taquerias, just west of I-95 on SW Eighth Street, there's an out-of-place green awning topped with two marks in flowing Arabic script. Step inside Barbar Grill and it's clear you've found the real deal: Hookahs are on display above counters lined with shisha and imported date cookies and sesame crackers for sale. Order the hummus. At Barbar, the smooth Levantine dip is the picture of flawlessly whipped perfection: a beige mix of chickpeas, nutty tahini, piquant garlic, and crisp olive oil. Served with Barbar's warm, homemade pita bread — a tangy, nearly sourdough take on the staple — and you'll easily mistake the heart of Cuban Miami for Little Beirut. Just don't lose your keys. You'll never guess where they are.

The 1st Avenue Bistro is a charming spot owned by a French couple and located by the downtown Miami courthouse. You can enjoy lunch and dinner here, but we like the peaceful vibe and delectable fare served in the mornings from 7:30 to 11:30. You can go the continental route and have a freshly baked croissant with an espresso for $3.75. Or try a pair of homemade crêpes with sugar and lemon, or chocolate ganache, or crème anglaise for $6.95. Savory crêpes filled with ham, bacon, chicken, or turkey in creamy béchamel sauce get topped with a sunnyside-up egg and a side of field greens for $8.95. What's more of a French breakfast than French toast? Here it is made with French bread and accompanied by fruit salad for $6.95. A breakfast sandwich on croissant or baguette — with scrambled eggs, cheese, and choice of ham, sausage, or bacon — is also $6.95. But our favorite breakfast here is the Gallic take on an all-American classic: two eggs any style (sprinkled with herbs), creamy potato gratin, a zestily dressed salad, baguette, and coffee, tea, or small orange juice — for just $5.95. Très soigné! And très cheap!

A "flop" is a Southern drink that mixes lemonade and iced tea. At Miracle's, an extra-large cup is as big as a bucket, costs $1.75, and offers a sweet, ice-cold counterpoint to the item for which the place is most famous. Almost 40 years ago, Thomas Carr opened what has become a historical landmark in the heart of Liberty City and began selling conch fritters fried to order. They are crisp, disc-shaped, and — at just $1 — arguably the most affordable freshly cooked food we've ever met. Place your order at an outdoor counter on vibrant 15th Avenue. Then wait for your steaming-hot fritter alongside city workers, lawyers, cops, school kids, mamas, rappers, dancers, tourists, and the many other fans of this establishment. Whether you eat it straight or sauce it up, you'll likely order a second fritter before you finish the first.

Ceviche, once a fabled dish of raw fish macerated in juices from an exotic, foreign land known as Peru, is now almost as common in Miami as chicken fingers. But only a few restaurants make it well, and few do it better than CVI.CHE 105 in downtown Miami. The moment you step in, you understand this place is meant to be a bright, boisterous destination. It buzzes with energy, and on any given night, you'll find a packed house with servers whizzing from corner to corner. Take a seat and grab a handful of corn kernels; then decide on one of the namesake dishes. The "red and white" ceviche ($12.95) is an homage to the Peruvian flag and chef Juan Chipoco's father, who hails from that country. The creamy pisco ceviche (12.95) adds the popular South American spirit to the mix, and after that boozy treat, you might end up diving into the "seafood orgy" ceviche ($13.95). Swimming in leche de tigre, or tiger's milk, it is known for being extra-spicy, creamy, and empowering Charlie Sheen to warlock status.

Tarpon Bend's raw bar menu might not be the longest in Miami, but what it lacks in variety it makes up for with consistent quality, cheap drinks, and fun personality. The oyster shots, tuna sashimi, and various chilled seafood platters are among the simple raw favorites. The Mexican shrimp "margarita," though not raw, draws raves for its exciting flavor combination: shrimp, spicy tomato tequila-chili sauce, black beans, avocados, and warm tortilla chips. But most appealing about Tarpon Bend is its bustling, convivial atmosphere. Mojito Madness Thursdays mean all-day $3.50 mojitos, with flavors like watermelon, grapefruit, and pineapple. There's also 3 to 9 p.m. happy hour Monday through Thursday, till 10 p.m. Friday, and even till 7 p.m. Saturday. Word has gotten 'round and the crowds have swooped in, but the service hasn't skipped a beat. All of this makes Tarpon Bend hands down the best place to slurp an oyster, sip a cocktail, and scope a date almost any night of the week.

Sometimes you have to ask yourself the important questions, like "Sauce or no sauce?" and "Ribs or chicken?" Your answer will likely depend on several factors, including ethnicity, geographic location, and your BBQ: bare-fisted barbecue quotient. Those who tip the scale at barbecue genius have been frequenting the Pit on Calle Ocho for eons. Whether you make a scheduled stop on your way to the Shark Valley entrance to Everglades National Park or just drive there on a whim, you won't be disappointed. Aside from standard American barbecue fare, you can also sate your inner carnivore by feasting on tender, perfectly cooked churrasco. Prices are reasonable too. Less than $10 will buy you a fine meal. Driving out to the Pit is a bit of a trek even for those who live in the southwest corner of Miami, but you and your loved ones will be treated to some of the meatiest sauceless barbecue ribs anyone has seen since The Flintstones. Even Fred would be jealous.

What characteristics make a salad great? A refreshing taste. A bit of a kick, usually from the acid in the dressing. Contrasting textures. Crunch. Sass. Wetness. Freshness. A solid salad is salubrious — it sates the appetite, awakens a tired soul, and braces the spirit like a breeze of fresh air on a plate. Pega Grill's Greek salad is all that — and more, if you get it with a chicken gyro add-on. The tomato wedges are ripe and red as fire engines; cucumbers, green peppers, and red onions add crispness and color; tart, soft feta cheese is crumbled on top, and the olive oil/red wine vinegar/oregano dressing binds it. Morsels of moist, well-seasoned gyro chicken pump protein and a whole lot of taste into the medley. Wedges of baguette come on the side. A small salad, which really is regular size, is $5.95; the large, which really is large, is $9.95. Chicken gyro meat is $2.95 extra.

Bruschetta originated as a way of salvaging bread that was going stale. Americans have come to think of this central Italian snack as toast topped with tomato salad, but at its very heart, the stuff is simply grilled or roasted bread rubbed with garlic and sprinkled with extra-virgin olive oil, salt, and pepper. At Trattoria Rosalia (sister to Carpaccio in Bal Harbour and other Italian restaurants around South Florida), slices of the toasted Tuscan bread are capped with chopped ripe tomatoes dressed with garlic, basil, olive oil, and a splash of balsamic vinegar — plus lush additions of mozzarella cheese and razor-thin prosciutto. It's all piled high and makes a great appetizer ($9.25). Let's be real: When it comes to using old bread, Rosalia's bruschetta kicks any crouton's ass.