Food & Drink

It’s a long way, both figuratively and literally, from Trujillo, Peru, to a nondescript strip mall across the street from the Lantana post office, but that’s the journey of Victoria’s chef-owner Julio Leon. The cheery, family-run eatery is a welcome breath of different and refreshing air in an otherwise mostly unexciting-restaurant town, one that’s been embraced by a surprisingly diverse clientele that ranges from seniors looking for a good, inexpensive meal to people hungry for something other than pizza, caesar salad, and fried calamari. All the staples of the Peruvian kitchen are on the menu, from beef heart antichuchos and Peruvian-style tamales to a lusty rendition of lomo saltado and traditional tiraditos. There’s also sopa a la minuta, a savory beef broth enriched with chopped beef, angel hair pasta, and diced potatoes that rivals “Jewish penicillin” for its miraculous restorative powers.

Why is this restaurant here, and if it’s here, why’s it so good? Way the hell out in the suburban wilds, occupying a space that looks like a barely warmed-over TGIF, the proprietors of Big Bear Brewing Co. are serving up serious pizza — the kind of thin-but-heartily crusted pies that in certain places, the cheese articulates with the crust in such a way that you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. You could nosh on these things all day and forget to even sample Big Bear’s rich, naughtily fruity Kodiak Belgian Dubbel or outrageous seasonal dark beers — and even the best of ’em, with blackened chicken and onions and goat’s cheese and mozzarella, can’t hold a candle to Big Bear’s Bistro Burger. As special as it is alliterative, this is a big, juicy sammich topped with something called “Bistro Sauce,” slathered with great glops of Brie cheese, onions, and lots of bacon. Gourmet for gourmands.

Clay Conley’s 15 minutes are almost here. The successor at Azul at the Mandarin Oriental to local fave Michelle Bernstein — who parlayed her 15 minutes of fame into multiple restaurants, TV appearances, and endorsements — his first big task was to put his own stamp on the überposh Brickell Key restaurant while ensuring that Bernstein wasn’t really missed. He knocked that one out of the park, so far that he got his own restaurant deal, moving north to “The Island” and opening Buccan, where he’s applying the rigorous culinary technique and finely honed creative chops he displayed at Azul to food that’s less expensive and less handled but even more flavorful. One taste of his lusty steak tartare with black truffle and “crispy” egg yolk or barbecued quail with creamed corn, bacon, and onion strings and you’ll be celebrating his 15 minutes too.

When fantasizing about the magnificent things you’ll obtain once you win the Florida Lotto, images of flashy cars, massive castle-esque homes, and fabulous hats may come to mind. But if your lucky numbers haven’t come up yet, you might be forced to simply bask alongside those privy to such financial glory. Inside a massive cream-colored resort that resembles a Roman palace, a brunch most opulent exists — a utopia where bubbly flows freely and dapper dressed debutantes nosh on caviar. A bevy of doormen waits to valet your sleek sports car (or Ford Taurus), and corridors are painted with images of the Renaissance. Stroll past tubs of lobster tail, carving stations, and various regal fare spanning two food-filled rooms. Drink, feast, and converse with the elite. A brunch at the Breakers in any case is cause for celebration, but if someone else is handing over his MasterCard, it might feel as if you hit the jackpot after all.

It’s only fitting that the chef whose restaurant earned Best of Palm Beach honors for 2011 should also take the crown as Best Chef. There are certainly better-known and more celebrated chefs in South Florida, but few are cooking with the disciplined abandon and uncompromising vision of Roy Villacrusis, who seemingly came out of nowhere to give the often-unadventurous Palm Beach County restaurant scene a giant kick in the ass. Actually, it wasn’t out of nowhere but out of Mark Militello’s now-shuttered CityPlace eatery, where Villacrusis ran the sushi bar. Before that, though, the self-taught chef cooked his way through restaurants from the Philippines to Las Vegas, especially drawn to the glistening freshness and aesthetic artistry of sushi. That artist’s touch is evident in every plate that comes out of Kubo’s exhibition kitchen. But although it’s said that you first eat with your eyes, you taste with your palate, and Villacrusis never lets his arrangements or creativity get in the way of his food tasting really, really good. That alone is worthy of an award.

Experienced Chinese food consumers can get soy sauce stains out of their undershirts, and they never let the faded photos of Hunan beef above the counter of a takeout eatery deter them. If the grub is going to be consumed elsewhere anyhow, atmosphere doesn’t matter; the truth is in the General Tso’s sauce. Leave it to the fine, fast, and affordable New Hong Kong Chinese Food to minimize the MSG hangover and coat every surface of the inside of your mouth with more than 100 variations of savory happiness. Even a risky item like cornstarch-battered crispy orange flavor beef leaves a wealth of East Asian spots in their greasy tracks. Do it for lunch, do it in large quantities, and do it late-night (till at least 10:30 daily) and these chefs with New York City experience have you covered.

For over a year, New Times has praised the slow-smoked barbecue found at Sheila’s, a yellow, roadside food shack in Lake Worth. But the real draw at this casual eatery is the conch: a meaty shellfish as integral to the Caribbean as steel drums and sunshine. Sheila’s gets down on the mollusc in a variety of ways: as an impeccably fresh salad mixed with tomato, bell pepper, and lime; in baseball-sized conch fritters studded with luxurious chunks of meat. But our favorite? That would be the cracked conch, done up in true Bahamian fashion — which is to say, pounded into tender morsels and lightly dredged in flour, then deep-fried until beautifully brown and crisp. Squirt it with some fresh lime juice and give it a dunk in Sheila’s zesty dipping sauce and that conch is practically flawless. A little pigeon peas and rice, some slow-stewed collard greens, and a seat on the stone benches underneath Sheila’s outdoor awning and your trip to the Caribbean is complete.

The dingy-looking yet delicious Mexican restaurants that pepper South Florida put off some people. There’s something about a grimy exterior and peeling paint that don’t scream “Eat here!” That’s why Baja Café was onto something when it seemingly decided that bright colors would be the theme. It slapped some bright green on the exterior of the restaurant and made the interior no less inviting with vibrant walls and painted ceramic-tile tables. The food is equally colorful and much more delicious. The cheese accosts your mouth — in a good way — the moment you bite into the hunk of burrito. The margaritas don’t skimp on the tequila, and there’s a whole tequila bar for you to choose from.

Lauderhill’s Woodlands has long been a favorite among Broward’s western set for its authentic flavors, wide-reaching menu, and low prices. But a change in ownership last year has transformed this vegetarian haven from neighborhood joint to Indian food destination. Admittedly, this quaint strip-mall eatery has a pretty plain vibe inside. But what the décor lacks in finery, the kitchen more than makes up for in intense flavor. Take the baingan bartha: Woodland’s version is made from fire-roasted eggplant, which translates into a smooth and delicate texture that’s neither too light nor too thick. Or the dal tadka, a new addition to the menu that sounds deceptively simple (just curried lentils and kidney beans) but tastes creamy and refined. And no trip to Woodlands is complete without an order of chana bhatura, a sweet stew of rustic chickpeas paired with a globe of fried dough the size (and sheen) of a disco ball. Yep, there’s so much to discover at this West Broward gem, from meter-long dosai (crisp crepes stuffed with curries) to fried Indian pancakes and fragrant pilafs.

The eatery’s name speaks the truth. It is literally a small, eight-table bistro serving lunch and dinner, and it’s nestled in the corner of an unassuming strip mall. Black and white tiles checker the floor; romantic lighting illuminates the sheen of white-pressed tablecloths and pastel-painted walls. Francophiles won’t be disappointed by the Dover sole meunière here — a delicate fish pan-fried in butter, crusted with herbs, and dashed with lemon. Those not in the mood for poisson can savor the ridiculously tender beef tenderloin smothered with Roquefort sauce. The freshly made-in-house baguette slices are perfect for swiping the melted garlic herb-butter after the last succulent escargot is gone. Save room for chocolate mousse cake or crème brûlée, and let your inner child savor the cherries jubilee — a whimsical sundae of warm cherries bursting from brandy flambé and melting into ice cream topped with freshly whipped cream.

The worst way to find fresh fish and shellfish is to follow your nose. If you can smell it, it’s already bait. The best way to find fresh fish and shellfish is to follow I-95 to Boynton Beach Boulevard to a funky-looking little concrete block building just a Key West pink’s toss from everybody’s favorite amateur speedway. In the more than 15 years since purchasing the market from the grandson of namesake Capt. Frank, ex-New Yorker Joey Sclafani and family have made it into something of a mecca for discriminating piscavores. The selection of seafood, from both local and other East Coast waters, is as diverse as it is pristinely fresh: Key West pink shrimp or the sweet reddish specimens from around Cape Canaveral, live soft-shell crab in season, locally caught grouper and mahi and yellowtail snapper, dry-packed scallops, and sushi-grade tuna. And though the shop is tiny, with more room for seafood than people, the only smell is the clean, briny tang of the sea. The nose knows.

Sad-but-true story: For its first year in business, the Omphoy had the honest-to-goodness best cocktail in the universe. Top-shelf gin mixed with grapefruit juice into which fresh basil leaves had been thoroughly muddled and the whole thing topped with a splash of Prosecco. De-freaking-lishus. You could tell the Omphoy took pleasure in the beverage, cuz it called it “The Omphoy.” Then, one day, a reporter walked up to the bar, ordered an Omphoy, and was handed some kind of champagne-based thing that tasted like a girl drink. The menu’d changed — but a sweet and sympathetic bartender ran upstairs to the kitchen at Michelle Bern­stein’s brilliant restaurant to assemble the necessary ingredients, and the evening was salvaged. You can still usually persuade a bartender to make an Omphoy the right way, but if you can’t, no sweat: A diverse and inspired cocktail menu rewards the bold imbiber, with an unusually potent “Dark & Stormy,” featuring dark Gosling’s rum and intense house-made ginger beer; and a singularly decadent cocktail called “Blood and Sand,” which combines Johnny Walker Black with cherry brandy, vermouth, and orange bitters into a drink packing more flavor per milliliter than just about any liquid known to humankind.

Ever find yourself spending big bucks on some so-called five-star dish with a fancy name that is served on bland white linens… only to be presented with some not-so-al-dente spaghetti that’s drowning in sodium-infused red sauce along with a breadbasket? You would have been better off saving your money and ordering pizza. Well, it’s time to allow La Sirena to restore your faith in fine Italian dining. The charming dining area is dimmed by glowing candles, dressed with delicate flower arrangements, and presented beneath 150-year-old oak beams from Shenandoah Valley — a classic and sophisticated appearance that will surely take you aback. Most important, your palate will be pleased with delightful entrée items including costoletta di vitello zingara — a cutlet of veal, lightly breaded, with a sauce of artichoke hearts, tomatoes, prosciutto di parma, and shiitakes. Or you can keep it light with il pesce del giorno alla livornese — fresh fish of the day, poached in a sauce of tomatoes, capers, onions, and white wine. Price upon request, of course.

Caprese salad, fritto misto, linguine with clam sauce, veal Milanese… they’re as ubiquitous to South Florida as hurricane scams and dirty politicians taking sacks of money from shady developers. So what can one more restaurant dishing up these all-American Italian favorites bring to the table? Well, in the case of Fiorentina, it can do them better and charge you less. We’re not talking fast food or fast casual or any other euphemism for wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am dining but a real sit-down, white-tablecloth restaurant with friendly and efficient service and an energetic, locals’-hangout kind of atmosphere. We’re also talking a restaurant where at dinner, most pastas come in at under $15, a whole poussin cooked al mattone and served with panzanella at under $20, and the only entrée that breaks the $30 barrier is a porterhouse big enough to have its own area code. Which, for the right price, one of our politicians would be happy to sell you.

Whether you have been craving classic Jamaican jerk chicken, oxtail, curry goat, fried fish, ackee, or some good, old-fashioned cowfoot (don’t hate), old Auntie I has got you covered. She opened her first location back in 1987, and Auntie I’s now has three in South Florida. Expect friendly service, along with delicious Jamaican food that’s prepared using original family recipes yet maintains a modest price. This joint is perfect for lunch (there are always great daily specials), takeout, or a fun family outing. It’s about time you break it off with your weekly habit of diluted wonton soup and stale, misleading fortune cookies.

From the short-rib tacos of Kogi BBQ in Los Angeles to the funky fusion of New York-based Korilla, Korean-inspired street food has long been at the heart of the food truck craze. And now with Dim Ssäm à GoGo, the mobile extension of Miami’s Sakaya Kitchen, chef Richard Halles has elevated Asian-inspired street fusion to the next level. What makes Halles’ attractive, inked-up truck so great is the balance he achieves between modern restaurant cooking technique and munchie-inducing street fare. Take his duck banh mi, made with crisp-skinned, sous vide duck breast and served on a mayo-slathered baguette — we could eat that shit in a five-star restaurant or sitting on a curb at 3 a.m. Or how about the chunked-up tater tots? Covered with zesty cheese sauce and spicy ssam­jang, it’s basically stoner food — until you consider the lovingly crafted, tender, short-rib slices that grace the top. Until recently, us northerners had to trek down to Miami to find this Korean monster. But thanks to recent truck gatherings up in West Broward and Boca Raton, mobile food hounds in Broward and Palm Beach can now enjoy their Dim Ssäm (a play on Chinese “dim sum” and the Korean word for wrap) on the go-go.

Coconut Creek’s Mama Asian Noodle Bar rises high above the humdrum Thai restaurants populating strip malls all across South Florida. That’s because its owners, Mike and Lisa Ponluang, have been serving the chili- and lime-inflected cuisine of their homeland to hungry South Floridians for more than 16 years. Sure, the place sports your usual assortment of curries, pad Thais, and kaffir-infused salads, each brimming with enough slow-developed flavor to make anyone’s ma proud. But much like the couple’s Coco Asian Bistro in Fort Lauderdale, Mama takes traditional Thai dishes and gives them a modern twist. Here you’ll find pan-seared Chilean sea bass with bok choy over delicate miso broth or juicy pork chops marinated in lemongrass and garlic. Crisp fried spring rolls filled with shiitakes and chicken are a star — just as they were when Ponluang began serving them at his legendary restaurant Thai Pepper back in the mid-’90s. And when Mama steps out of the Thai mold, look out. Its wide range of noodle dishes give a sly nod to the warm street fare of Southeast Asia, from excellent Vietnamese pho scented with basil and anise to panko-coated kutsu chicken over waves of pipping-hot ramen. Add in chic décor and wallet-friendly prices and Mama really is the mother of all local Thai restaurants.

The word buffet conjures unappetizing images of blue-haired old ladies and no-haired old men doddering around a giant steam table piled with muddy-colored substances that might once have been food. There’s nothing unappetizing about the lunch buffet at this swanky-looking Indian eatery, though, especially not its all-you-can-pig-out-on-for-a-penny-squeezing $10 price tag. The dozen or so dishes lined up on long tables at the bar taste fresh and well-made and are replenished often. There’s good variety too, from a basket of puffy, garlicky naan to rajma masala (a deftly seasoned stew that turns the humble kidney bean into the uncommonly plush-textured Legume of the Gods) to the classic chicken tikka masala, which bathes chunks of tender clucker in a riotously flavorful tomato and cream-based sauce so indecently rich and luxurious that it would cause your average French saucier to set fire to his toque… while he was still wearing it. You gotta admit, that alone would be worth ten bucks.

(Sing to the tune of “My Favorite Things”)

Chocolatey syrup and marshmallow fluff

Handfuls of ice cream with mounds of yummy stuff

Sparklers light up this dessert made for kings

The Kitchen Sink has everyone’s favorite things.

Homemade flavors topped with whipped cream

This dessert concoction is truly a dream

A few bites will cure any ice cream cravings

The Kitchen Sink has everyone’s favorite things.

When your hunger calls

When your stomach stings

When you’re feeling sad

Take a bite out of the Kitchen Sink and then you won’t feel so bad.

Calling Kubo chef Roy Villacrusis’ exquisite creation “Liver Surf ‘n’ Turf” is like calling Queen Elizabeth “Lizzie” or the Hope Diamond a mere hunk of compressed carbon. This double-barreled shot of terrestrial and seafaring opulence unites two of the most luxurious ingredients you could ever put in your mouth, gilding them with the kind of breathtaking creativity that has earned Kubo this year’s Best Restaurant in Palm Beach and Villacrusis Best Chef honors. “Turf” is Hudson Valley foie gras, a quickly seared lobe with a plush, almost molten texture set in a pool of spiced chocolate sauce flanked by twin marbles of caramelized banana. “Surf” is monkfish liver — foie gras of the sea — with a delicate briny flavor and rich, creamy texture, both accented by a citrusy yellow miso sauce and a scattering of feathery microgreens. Don’t call it Liver Surf ‘n’ Turf.

Call it Unspeakably Delicious.

A brunch riddle for you: What has an unobstructed view of the Atlantic, an omelet station, a carving station, and unlimited drinks and costs only $34? Brunch at the Pelican Grand. It takes the phrase “have it your way” to new levels if “your way” includes several bloody marys, sweet pillowy cheese blintzes, steaming hot eggs Benedict, freshly carved ham, and a seafood display with shrimp and smoked salmon. And the woman at the omelet station is a sweetheart! If you have guests in town or if you want the most elevated brunch for your buck while on staycation, this is the perfect spot to keep in your back pocket.

Why spend Saturday morning eating freezer-burned waffles in front of the telly when you could watch some hardbodies play volleyball while you stuff your face with banana French toast? St. Bart’s Coffee Co., located in two great people-watching locations on Fort Lauderdale beach, offers a better way to start your day. If you’re not a morning person, have no fear: A massive mug of the café’s hazelnut cappuccino will have you up and at ’em in no time. The restaurant has a variety of menu items, from hangover-curing smoothies and egg croissants in the a.m. to fresh Greek salads and tasty prosciutto wraps in the afternoon. Whether you are recovering from a long night of partying or gearing up for a mind-clearing jog on the beach, St. Bart’s has got you covered.

We’ll always be grateful to Jack Berry for his old-fashioned hamburgers, which he served in two old-fashioned restaurants and kept in tip-top shape thanks to an old-fashioned work ethic, which Jack passed on to four decades of young employees. Jack died in February at age 82, and he’s left behind one of the few bits of idiosyncratic Fort Lauderdale culture to survive the past two decades of boom and bust. His burgers are as good today as they were ten and 20 years ago — juicy griddle patties made from fresh-ground round, served with toppings on the bottom and garnishable at the station in the middle of the dining room. The wise pair their burgers with Jack’s salty shoelace fries and thick, oversized chocolate shakes. A big thank you to Jack Berry for making Fort Lauderdale so much tastier and so much friendlier. You’re the best.

Slaving over an oven that spews thick, resinous clouds of wood smoke is an arduous task, one reserved only for the most passionate. That’s why good barbecue is all about passion — the love of the craft, the desire to rise above mediocrity and produce a truly exceptional product. That’s the driving force at Pompano’s East Coast BBQ. This hidden gem is located far in the back corner of a Publix parking lot, out of roadside view and with little signage to speak of. But owner Dave Audet and his staff pump out barbecue as if they were competing for the grand prize at a state fair. The pork is pulled into meaty, thick strands, full of texture. The moist smoked turkey isn’t anything like those sad Thanksgiving birds — it’s a whole other beast, full of brined, marinated goodness. And the ribs… oh God, the ribs. These dry-rubbed racks are competition-quality, plucked straight from Audet’s high-tech pellet smoker and given a quick turn on the grill to char them up before they land on your plate. What you get is rib perfection: tender bark collapsing over waves of rendered fat, which, upon biting, coats the succulent meat inside with its own gravylicious juice. Goddamn. Complete the package with some no-fuss sides like stellar baked beans and German-style potato salad and you might very well think you’re at a competition cook-off.

PRL Euro was one of South Florida’s first serious beer bars, crammed as it is into a narrow little space on Hollywood Boulevard. The place is friendly, and the bottle list is staggering — on some nights, there could be 140 brews between the taps and bottles, including a few fancy ciders. There’s a heavy emphasis on Belgian, German, and Polish beers, with quite a few domestics as well. PRL doesn’t serve food, but there’s plenty of oddball European techno, which, unlike the beer, you really can’t find anywhere else around here.

This here is what happens when a bartender buys her place of employment, gives it a makeover, and throws parties as often as possible. Boo, the aforementioned bartender, is a five-foot-two-inch blond bombshell who dispenses hugs like candy and doesn’t have “patrons” — she just has a shitload lot of drinkin’ buddies. Whether you come in for the rowdy company, sexy bartenders, or the Tuesday-night prime rib special, Boo will make sure you have a permanent spot at her party bar in no time.

Forget any fears about dry, tasteless, health muck. The grassy, fresh smell of fruits and veggies hits you when you walk in the door. Inside, the dining room is light and airy, with an open, spacious kitchen where you can see everything, including the machines used to dehydrate the bread. The dinner menu is lengthy and varied — zucchini lasagna, a mezze platter, a taco salad. A surprisingly filling baja veggie burger is served on a nutty, nourishing onion bread with a slathering of crushed avocado, a kick of jalapeño, and a chipotle mayo that slides through your fingers as you gobble it up. The Thai wraps come with hummus, cabbage, a hint of sweet mango, and an addictive almond-ginger dipping sauce. Dessert is the biggest shock: How can an ice cream sundae made of cashews and coconuts taste better than the real, guilt-inducing treat? This version is cool and minty, with chunks of sprouted buckwheat covered in cacao, reminiscent of Snickers bars. The whole thing is so healthy, there must be some magic involved.

A meal at Brick House Tavern and Tap will likely include food, but good luck remembering what you ordered. Only one section of the restaurant is called the “Man Cave,” but every inch of the place is literally crawling with slinky, long-legged young women eager to sit down right next to you on a couch-style booth and clear away your troubles. These genetically gifted females add to their considerable allure with work attire (yes, they’re paid to be there) that consists of a tiny scrap of denim for a skirt and a curve-hugging black T. Expect a crowd of them to surround your table when the food’s ready — all the more reason to stick around for dessert, whatever it might be.

What do you get when you combine 24 gluten-free menu items with one of the most popular Chinese chain restaurants in the U.S.? Very happy celiacs. P.F. Chang’s recognized the demand for gluten-free menu items long before other big restaurants hopped onboard. A spokeswoman for the chain says the gluten-free items were developed after so many customers had requested them. P.F. Chang’s gluten-free menu offers 18 entrées, one dessert, and several starters. The meals are even served on special plates as proof that they were prepared away from ingredients containing the offending gluten. There are four locations in Broward and Palm Beach counties; go to pfchangs.com to find the location nearest to you.

You and Gramps both know you get grumpy with low blood sugar by around 10:30 a.m., and the Floridian Diner, a classic local spot that caters to late-night boozers as well as early risers, is one of the only establishments open for breakfast in the Las Olas area. The food, like the service, is consistently mediocre, but there’s no place more pleasant to kill a morning eating an enormous omelet with everything you crave inside and a huge helping of hash browns. Gramps is probably treating, so go nuts and order banana pancakes for the table. You’ll be so pleased with the gritty old-Florida atmosphere, you won’t mind if your eggs are overcooked or your waitress is a little snippy. Trade sections of the newspaper with your pops all morning sitting at a sidewalk table alongside the side of the building and all will be right with the world as you relax with swelled bellies full of oversized breakfasts made delicious by your newly refreshed mood.

Some spots are good for solo dining simply because it isn’t actively discouraged. Keeping humiliation to a minimum, these restaurants cater to lively groups and single noshers alike. But at this lunch-and-dinner shack near the courthouse, commingling is all but impossible. Three walls of narrow lunch counter and high stools provide space for your styrofoam-swaddled rib dinner and a sauce-splattered New Times; even if you go with friends, you’ll find yourself talking more to the succulent, char-edged piles of meat than to whatever living human being may be gabbing on next to you, hogging your paper towels.

Your head is throbbing, you wish you could rewind the last 15 hours of your life, and you need comfort. Not doting service or a huge bill — just a  tummyful of grease, spice, juice… and coffee. Decent, unfussy coffee. When you walk in the door of Bravo, the posted menu of Peruvian sandwiches may not read like much of a brunch (don’t get nervous), but if you ask the friendly clerk for a suggestion, you will end up with a hangover-quashing weekend special like grilled pork with circles of simply and perfectly prepared sweet potatoes, and a chicken-filled tamale in all of its Peruvian-spice glory. The specials will not disappoint, but it’s nice to mix and match — bring someone along, and split a hearty entrée and a sandwich. If you’re craving salt, go with the Lomo Saltado: beef sirloin on a crusty bun that soaks up the juice of the tender meat and is finished with red onions and tomatoes. And if your postbooze pain is so bad that you need another comforting option, there’s always the burger topped with ham, cheese, egg, and mayo. Cured yet? Wash it down with some fresh juice and you’ll feel like last night never even happened.

In a society that is addicted to burgers, French fries, and high-fructose corn syrup, many Americans tend to view veggies as, well, boring. Luckily, even the most finicky eater can enjoy what D’Angelo has to offer. The tapas menu includes roasted sweet Italian sausage over escarole and beans and broccoli; seasonal vegetables in crispy tempura with a lemon yogurt sauce; beautifully presented zucchini flowers; and salads such as the arugula with roasted peppers and shaved reggiano. Other veggie items include delicious minestrone soup; pizze capricciosa with artichokes, olives, mozzarella, mushrooms, and tomatoes; wood-oven frittata with zucchini and creamy burrata; veggie paninis; and veggie-enhanced ceviche. These creative and delicious vegetable items could please carnivores and children alike.

Sure, maybe it’s a sign that food trends have gotten a little out of hand when we begin ordering $10 platters of potato chips at tres chic eateries. But you only live once after all, so who gives a flip if potato chips are considered cliché, fattening, or pedestrian? Sort of like transforming an uninspired bowl of ice cream to a champagne granita, YOLO’s version of the homemade potato chip breathes new life into the fat kid’s after-school snack. Each slice of crispy fried potato is topped with melted dollops of blue cheese. These tasty suckers are completed with a liberal daub of crisp salty bacon and flecks of rosemary and thyme. Our chubby inner child is squealing.

Since the higher forms of life don’t use phrases like “close the deal” to describe the commencement of sexual relations, let’s assume you’re a heterosexual male. If so, then bring your next prospective fling to Le Patio, because doing so will make her think you’re: (1) “tolerant” and “open-minded” for bringing her to a restaurant owned and operated by a sweet lesbian couple; (2) “romantic” for bringing her to a tiny, intimate space decorated in lightly funky, slightly dusty pan-European knickknacks; (3) “cultured” for bringing her someplace French; and (4) “alluringly frugal” for bringing her someplace reasonably inexpensive yet awesome. Sit on the patio, order the trio pâté appetizer, and trust the house to pair a wine with the specials. The pairing’s always perfect and seldom adds more than $20 to the bill.

Mussels saganaki (Greek for “a small frying pan”) simmer in a fresh tomato sauce with enough feta to meld into every bite without making the dish overly heavy. Figuring in cost and deliciousness, this $11.95 dish is the loveliest and practically the cheapest meal on Las Olas — not a common pairing of qualities on the boulevard of kept men and women and wealthy tourists. There is a special section of three saganaki on Trata’s menu — conceivably, you could choose scallops or shrimp, but if you crave a scrumptious bargain, you should opt for the mussels. The others are true appetizer portions (saganaki are traditionally small), but for some blessed but unknown reason, the kind people at Trata make the mussels a much larger portion. Soak up the delicious sauce with the fresh bread served with a side of hummus, and voilà, you’ve got an affordable and delicious meal, and you’ve saved enough money to overtip the incredibly nice servers and buy yourself a glass of wine.

Vegetarians aren’t exactly a discerning bunch, culinarily speaking. After all, this is a group that chooses by virtue of free will to forgo bacon, steaks, burgers, and all things indelibly yummy. And that’s why the hallmark of any great vegetarian restaurant isn’t just in its ability to appease those forward-thinking few. It’s how firmly it can win over the palates of card-carrying carnivores. And that’s precisely where Darbster delivers. Darbster makes its animal-free meals taste as decadent and indulgent as its meaty counterparts, only without the guilt. Take its “tree’s wings”: These mock Buffalo chicken wings are made from Gardein, a planet-friendly protein that Darbster renders so juicy and supple that you’d swear it’s the real thing. Or consider Darbster’s unique palm cake, a faux crab cake made with shredded hearts of palm and dabbed with savory pine nut aioli. There are plenty more options to savor, from gooey cheese enchiladas made without an ounce of dairy to a bevy of raw food items including — get this — a badass bacon cheeseburger made with dehydrated eggplant, nuts, and whole grains. Dy-no-mite. And lest the bold flavors fool you into thinking a meal there is anything less than completely healthful, the pristine, outdoor setting overlooking an inland waterway will help you find your Zen.

Cruising Andrews Avenue for a bite to eat is a lot like going to Epcot… if Epcot ditched the disco ball, became affordable, and morphed into a long street that ran the length of several large cities. On this strip, you can enjoy food from around the globe, including the Caribbean, the Mediterranean, Southeast Asia, Latin America, and Dirty South, USA. The average price of a dinner including a drink (nonalcoholic — sorry) is under ten bucks. You won’t find any TGI McFunsters on this popular strip; Andrews Avenue is a mom-and-pop-shop mecca, which only adds to the avenue’s charm and keeps us coming back for more.

Whether you enter stone sober or three sheets to the wind, walking into Maguires Hill 16 is never a regrettable decision. Over the past three years, the bar has upgraded from a typical dark, Irish pub to an airier, more atmospheric space. The back of the restaurant has been converted into a sleek, intimate bar area that is ideal for small cocktail parties. The new outdoor sports bar is complete with two large flat-screens and plenty of seating. Menu items have also recently been added. The old outside patio area received a face-lift as well, complete with designer fans to beat the summer heat. The outdoor patio area is now semi-enclosed, which not only gives the exterior of the pub a more polished look but also conveniently helps prevent naughty drunks from stumbling away while their handlers finish up that last, well-deserved pint of Magners. Slainte.

Burger joints, soul food restaurants, and taco food trucks are just a few places to eat sans utensils, so what makes Dixie Pig the best place to take off those dainty white gloves? Simply put, it’s the sauce. Dixie Pig has been in the same location on Dixie Highway for more than 20 years, so they know a thing or two about making good BBQ. There are four stellar sauces to choose from: golden mustard, sweet BBQ, spicy BBQ, and North Carolina vinegar sauce. Each table at the outdoor eatery is outfitted with its own “kit” of sauces. You can almost see the twinkle in diners’ eyes as they feverishly drizzle their favorite sauce over a pulled pork sandwich or rack of ribs. Overindulge in the Dixie Pig’s expansive array of homemade sauces that will, if applied correctly, drip down your arms like a lit candle in a Meat Loaf video. Leave the wet wipes at home, and don’t forget to lick your fingers.

The margaritas at Rocco’s, where there’s a menu dedicated exclusively to tequila, are so good that you might just quit your job and join a mariachi band. But eating here is awkward — you can’t talk to the person across the table without screaming over the Top 40 hits. It’s fine if you don’t particularly care for your company, but if that’s not the case, beeline to the bar. It’s usually slammed with a civilized cross section of people. The bartenders are friendly, and most important, the 12 varieties of margaritas come in huge glasses (note: The Cadillac is incredible — El Mayor Anejo, Gran Marnier, and Rocco’s house-made sour mix). Frequently, Rocco Mangel, the owner, jumps up on the bar wearing his signature white patent-leather shoes, and pours shots of Patrón into patrons’ mouths. You can’t get that lip service during dinner.

If you’re going to abandon the One True Faith, be excommunicated from the First Church of the Holy Eggplant of the Blessed Legume, and exchange the heavenly rewards of seitan for the earthly pleasures of Satan, you may as well get as much joy and flavor out of it as possible. And there is no more joyous or flavorful bit of gastronomic apostasy than the thymus glands of a calf, gently poached and carefully picked over, then pressed, lightly floured, sautéed, and bathed in a luxurious chanterelle cream sauce richer than Bill Gates but ever so much more exciting. Most restaurants would barely dare to even offer it as a special, but at suave, elegant La Cigale, this devilishly seductive number sits proudly on the regular menu. Truly, a blessed event. Can I get an amen?

Restaurant wine lists are often described as “encyclopedic,” but no encyclopedia offers the kind of pleasure that perusing the 300-plus-label list at Tony Bova’s elegant Vivo Partenza does. Assembled by Bova and director of operations Sande Weinstein, it focuses almost exclusively on the wines of Italy and California, but within those areas is an encyclopedic roster of the best vintages and finest producers. Super Tuscans like Solaia, Tignanello, and Sassicaia are well-represented, as are Barolos, Brunellos, and Amarones and multiple bottlings from Angelo Gaja. Fans of California Cabernets will drool over vintages of Silver Oak from 1995 on, as well as wines from Harlan Estate, Opus One, and Joseph Phelps (Insignia). There’s also an impressive list of magnums, from Antinori to ZD. Of course, all this oenological pleasure isn’t exactly cheap, with bottle prices starting around $200 and zooming up to almost a grand. But the other half of what Weinstein calls his “bipolar” list, where most of the restaurant’s seafood-friendly white wines reside, serves up dozens of excellent choices for under $50, which is more in the neighborhood of those of us whose bank accounts aren’t quite so encyclopedic.

If you’re looking for all-the-usual-suspects sort of wines at prices that make armed robbery seem reasonable, don’t bother with Mike Lynch’s sweet little Hallandale Beach wine bar and café. On the other hand, if you’ve got a taste for oenological adventure or you just can’t stomach one more overoaked California Chardonnay or overpriced Cabernet Sauvignon, then Il Mercato is your kind of place. Owner and wine maestro Lynch looks for “B-side varietals, oddball wines” that partner well with the café’s first-rate food and offer Lynch the kind of savings he can pass on to his customers. What that means in your wallet are markups about twice wholesale instead of the typical three to five times those of most SoFla restaurants. With about 140 different bottles on a list that changes constantly (including two dozen or so available in full and half-glasses), you’ve got plenty of good wines and good deals to choose from. Unless, that is, you’re hunting one of those usual suspects.

Downtown Fort Lauderdale has no shortage of restaurants, from basic sandwich shops to upscale eateries that morph into clubs at night. Yet those of us who work and live in this panoply of gustatory diversity somehow still find ourselves wondering what the hell we’re going to eat for lunch. Many downtowners have found the ideal solution: “Let’s just go to the library.” Truth is, the food at the Main Library’s Charcuterie Too is just really freaking good. The dishes are simple and well-prepared, and the menu is posted online, so you can check the day’s special before you head over. The curry chicken is arguably the most delicious dish in Fort Lauderdale. The line is quick, the staff friendly and efficient, and at about $8 for the whole meal, you won’t go broke.

Wild boar cacciatorini with red onions and aged cheddar. Roasted eggplant with chilies, capers, and shallots. Local beet leaf with lemon and garlic. These aren’t just pizzas, folks. They are visions both mad and beautiful, dreamed up by Dak Kerprich, chef/owner of Lantana’s Pizzeria Oceano. Kerprich is an auteur when it comes to pie making. He makes his own mozzarella and crafts only as much dough as the restaurant will go through daily. He sources local and artisanal ingredients and highlights their origin on his daily-changing menu. And he’s simply fanatical about pizza — some might say to a fault, since Pizzeria Oceano allows no takeout (it would ruin the pizza’s texture) or substitutions (he’s the chef, not you). But the proof is in the product: Kerprich’s wood-fired crust is airy-light yet brusque as a thin cracker. His toppings are always in perfect proportion, and his sauce is the perfect balance of sweet and tart. Sure, the converted bungalow is tiny and frequently packed and is open only from 5 to 10 p.m. every day excluding Sunday (and even then, the kitchen often closes early). But these pizzas, concocted by one mad genius of a pie maker, are simply worth it.

Downtown Delray Beach is probably about as close as one is going to get to a small-town feel around here. Atlantic Avenue is like an old-fashioned main street running through Mayberry or Smallville. Of course, you can also valet the beach. (This is still Palm Beach County, after all.) But just off the avenue, hidden behind a snooty art gallery, is a small, charming café — with just four tables inside and two outside — that serves up the fluffiest pancake-like dishes you’ve ever tasted. The savory crepes — like the Cousteau stuffed with smoked salmon, crème fraiche, and capers and topped with onions and a squeeze of lemon juice — are a satisfying and healthy-ish meal. The sweet crepes are just like the Nutella- and strawberry-smothered desserts you can buy from Parisian street vendors for a few euros. Round things out with a freshly made cappuccino and it’s like a little slice of Gallic heaven right here in South Florida.

You know a gelato restaurant knows its shit when Sylvester Stallone has gone through the drive-through. Sonny’s Gelato Café in Boca Raton is within walking distance of Florida Atlantic University’s main campus and apparently within driving distance for “Rocky” to feed his habit. The popular gelato café features more than 40 flavors on its menu. When asked to name the most popular one, staffers couldn’t pick and instead spouted off flavors like banana, Nutella, and peanut butter. The family-run business also serves cakes imported straight from Italy, plus panini sandwiches and subs for those craving an actual lunch.

Kubo means “long life” in Japanese and “small house” in Tagalog, the language of chef-owner Roy Villacrusis’ native Philippines. “Asiatic cuisine” is Villacrusis’ fiercely individual, breathtakingly inventive take on the cuisines of Asia, inspired by sushi but blasting off to an entirely new and different universe. Though open less than a year, Kubo earns its Best Restaurant honors by being simply the most exciting place to dine in Palm Beach County. With dishes like liver surf and turf (using monkfish liver), green-tea-cured salmon, and a Kobe hot dog with kimchee, it’s the kind of restaurant that would set palates drooling in such sophisticated, foodcentric cities as New York, Chicago, and San Francisco, never mind its exceedingly modest, design-on-a-budget appearance and location in a corner of an almost-deserted North Palm Beach shopping mall. Now there’s no reason to complain about a same ol’, same ol’ local restaurant scene. If you’re hungry for food that excites and challenges your taste buds, you’ll hope the small house that is Kubo has a very long life indeed.

At Sugar Rush, the four-wheeled version of Miami’s Sweetness Bake Shop, you can have your cake and drink it too. The dessert-oriented food truck hocks tasty sweets in Miami-Dade and Broward counties. And one of its signature frozen treats is something called a cake ‘n’ shake. It’s essentially a vanilla or chocolate milk shake blended with a thick slice of cake — your choice of either vanilla, chocolate, or red velvet. The secret to its success is the fact that each individual component is so good on its own: The cake is dense, rich, and moist. And the shakes are dynamite too, especially the chocolate version, which is made all the more special by the addition of tiny chunks of real chocolate in the mix. Combining the two is a near perfect pairing — like eating a hot dog at a ball game or watching a double rainbow in the company of a hippie. Sugar Rush also makes other amazing confections, from fudge-stuffed chocolate chip cookies to Krispy Kreme doughnut bread pudding.

Late-night eats or anytime treats… Oakland Park’s Diner 24 knows what diner lovers desire — all things greasy, hearty, and home-style. And what’s better than a filling portion of good, ol’-fashioned French fries smothered in a symphony of glistening beef gravy and creamy mozzarella cheese? A second portion of them! These fries, most likely invented during an inebriated moment of genius, will have you performing the night fever hustle in celebration. (Insider tip: Since some diners didn’t know what “disco fries” meant, the menu was changed to list only “gravy fries.” But if you ask for disco fries, you’ll get ’em.)

People who should go here: those who like hamburgers. People who should not go here: those with peanut allergies.

Instead of grabbing the same old Starbucks croissant, pop into Barbara Young Bake Shop for a slice of homemade heaven. Barbara Young, a 35-year pastry chef, opted out of retirement to open her dream bakery on the Las Olas strip in 2010. The interior has a traditional Americana-meets-retro look, giving it a welcoming feel. When you walk in, the savory aroma of freshly baked goodies and brewing coffee will call out to your taste buds. The counter is lined with tempting delights just waiting to be devoured, including flavorful muffins that are as big as your head. One bite is guaranteed to start the day off right. In addition to the specialty breads and pies, Barbara’s signature cheesecakes are not to be ignored.

Maybe it’s because ice cream parlors are such ubiquitous fixtures on the American landscape, but for some reason, kitsch and gimmicks have become the rule rather than the exception. Seems that nowadays they all sell ice cream in bathroom fixtures so large that the flavors ooze together, or via a do-it-yourself scheme that tricks people into loading up on toppings only to realize at the register that you pay by weight and chocolate chips are much heavier than you thought. And then, of course, there’s the singing. Oh, the singing. If you just want to get a couple of decent scoops on a sugar cone and enjoy it in peace, then pay a visit to Larry’s Olde Fashioned Ice Cream & Yogurt in Coral Springs. This tiny spot will serve you ice cream in a normal, individual-sized container. The only work you’ll have to do is to decide between colored or chocolate sprinkles. (Go crazy — have both.) And best of all, no one — repeat, absolutely no one — will break out into off-key song should you drop a dollar in the tip jar. It’s like heaven. And if you find yourself going through gimmick withdrawal, order a sundae and spin the wheel to find out how much you’ll pay. You might even get it for free.

The words comfort food may not immediately bring to mind galbi, jjigae, and bibimbap — not unless you’re Korean, anyway. But the heart and soul of comfort food is the idea that it should be something that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Myung Ga, a humble Korean restaurant in far-off Weston, definitely delivers on that front. On any given night, the place is filled with families sharing hearty, soul-affirming meals. Central to that is the way in which those meals are eaten. In typical Korean fashion, each table is packed to the brim with all manner of food, so that almost every inch of bare space is taken up. There are plates of banchan (little appetizers that come complimentary with every meal), sizzling platters of char-grilled meat like short ribs or shrimp, and bubbling cauldrons of soup filled with roast pork, tofu, and plenty of heady spice. When it’s time to dig in, folks pass bowls and reach with their chopsticks. They serve one another helpings of noodles coated in spicy chili sauce and sip from short glasses of Hite Lager. Most of all, there’s this overwhelming sense of conviviality that spreads throughout the restaurant. Although Myung Ga may not serve comfort food of the meat loaf and mashed potatoes mold, it definitely has the same effect: Your heart warms, and your belly grumbles. It’s time to eat.

The service-with-a-snarl shtick — a gimmick that peaked in the late ’90s, when Seinfeld‘s “Soup Nazi” was nothing short of a cultural phenomenon — can wear thin in a hurry, particularly if the food doesn’t counterbalance the server’s indignation. The continuing success of this brusque downtown Hollywood mainstay is testament that it’s got the pie to back up the ‘tude. Forget about clean eating; things will get messy. Each slice is so epic that it spills onto a second plate and necessitates a fistful of paper napkins that you can only hope will make a dent in the wreckage of grease, cheese, and sauce flying around your person. Your best bet for a good experience: Speak clearly, carry cash, and don’t wear white.

Over the swing bridge and through the park, to the best damned stifling-hot, people-packed, appetite-mocking sandwich shop we go. Would you like your cheeseburger on a normal bun or in the form of a gut-busting sub for just over five bucks? While you’re thinking, close your eyes. It’s easy to imagine you’re on some rambling Deep South byway, hearing the sizzling grill and feeling the impotent gusts of the ceiling fans. Now open your eyes and look at that rack of homemade cakes, available by the slice. Holy mother.

Movies, alcohol, and food… Is there any better trifecta? Lucky for us, all three are magically joined at FAU’s Living Room Theaters movie complex in Boca Raton. Having opened its doors in October 2010, the complex includes four 50-seat theaters, each equipped with state-of-the-art sound, immaculate picture quality, and those fancy leather seats with moveable armrests. In addition to the ideal movie-watching environment, there are European-style café offerings, a slew of gourmet delights, and most important, a wide selection of specialty microbrews and wine. The alcohol prices aren’t too shabby either; $5 pint glasses will surely spice up any movie experience. Best of all, no need to worry about keg-partying college kids or American Pie-type films. Living Room Theaters is committed to providing films from all over the world, indie flicks, and notable classics such as Hitchcock favorites. Just imagine hearing the shower scene from Psycho in digital surround sound after a few glasses of wine. So, for your next movie experience, skip the crying-baby-filled theaters and overpriced concession snacks and enjoy a beer (or a few) at FAU.

You’ve been at the beach for hours, you’ve had a few beers, you have no plans for the entire afternoon, but you’re getting sleepy. It’s scorching outside — too hot to drink coffee and too pleasant to go home. Solution: Brush the sand off your ass and go to the Pirate Bar to walk the plank. It’s a sake bomb but much more fun. Once you walk down Pirate Alley, just north of Las Olas, between Spazio and a junky gift shop, you’ll encounter a dark enclave that is the diviest of beach bars. There, the bartender lines up booze-filled cups, balancing shots of sake on chopsticks over beer glasses; slam the bar and guzzle — and all for four bucks.

The Tequesta Brewing Co. is a perfect mixture of old and new. The always-packed tap room sports modern flourishes like exposed metal rafters and dark-blue lighting that makes the stainless-steel brewing vessels visible from the bar look like UFOs about to take flight. Complementing that is vintage-style black-and-white photography and a 100-year-old bar that looks like it was taken straight out of a German bier garden. TBC’s beers are all topnotch, from the smooth and drinkable Gnarly Barley to the heavy-hitting Double IPA injected with nitrogen. But the one that best represents owner Matt Webster’s ability to toe that contemporary/classical divide is Der Chancellor, a German-style Kölsch that pours a beautiful shade of pale gold. In authentic fashion, this light-bodied lager is well-carbonated, with an almost champagne-like finish. But where Webster introduces a bit of good ol’ American ingenuity is in the hops, a heady dose that’s slightly bitter but extremely aromatic. The result is a brew that demands another round — and one you can appreciate no matter how old- (or new-)school a beer drinker you are.

Da Big Kahuna’s Jungle Juice is an intoxicating, tropical-themed elixir that deserves this award if for no other reason than because there is no category for “Best Drink With Which to Knock an Entire Sorority on Its Collective Ass.” The Juice is served in a giant plastic seashell with multiple straws and partially submerged pieces of fruit, all of which have spent adequate time floating in this magic potion to become potent themselves. Whether you’re dosing out-of-towners or downing the whole thing yourself, the Jungle Juice is novel, fun, and delicious, and it will totally fuck you up.

Rosie’s bloody mary is a drink most blessed and revered: It’s spicy enough to wake you up, tangy enough to please your taste buds, and filling enough to combat even the nastiest of hangovers. It’s like a big, welcoming bowl of (alcoholic) tomato soup and even perfectly acceptable by most social standards to consume before noon — lavish brunch not required. But should you opt for it, Rosie has you covered: “Sunday Funday Brunch” takes place every Sunday between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m., and during this very special time, you can procure $2 Ultimate Bloody Marys. They’re cheap enough to down a lot of ’em and good enough to guarantee you’ll never get a mary elsewhere again.

A swanky, sultry hotel lounge with an ambiance that inspires sex and a view that stares straight out at the sparkling sea? Adding awesome martinis — a perfect classic and a unique collection of specialties, including the award-winning Cubeltini — can only make that better.

The elusive best poured Guinness: a chilled, ruby-colored brew buried deep in a pint glass and crowned with a creamy, frothy head that coats your throat on the way down. Maybe the Irish have fire in their blood because, west of Ireland, finding this heady, alcohol-filled treasure done right is rarer than finding gold at the end of a rainbow. But at the Field, a dollhouse-like Irish pub, you can settle on the outdoor patio (under the shade of an enormous banyan tree) and have a pretty bartender pour you a pint of pure perfection. The Field may not be close to Ireland, but it’s certainly close to heaven.

The prickly pear margarita at Canyon is pink enough to give you advance visual warning that this is not your average tequila cocktail. But worry not: The bright color does not mean it’s going to be sickeningly sugary like most festively hued drinks. It’s perfect: sweet in a way that’s complementary to the sour of lime and sour in a way that delivers a gentle pucker without curling your tongue into submission. The fruit of the prickly pear cactus is subtly pleasing like fresh watermelon and pairs with tequila better than meatballs with spaghetti. Balance is key to the margarita, and this specimen walks a tightrope of secret ingredients without faltering one bit. Canyon bartenders serve up the drink to a usually full bar of well-dressed locals, so arrive early if you want a seat to enjoy the most delicious pink drink in town — a Fort Lauderdale fixture as much as the adjacent Gateway Theater marquee.

Most steak houses are mausoleums of meat, boneyards of beef, retirement homes for carnivores. There’s the obligatory dark wood and brass rail décor, which was really, really hip… in 1920. There’s the pretentious, stultifying ambiance — half snobby suburban country club, half pompous dillweed. There’s the usual roster of side dishes — shrimp cocktail, creamed spinach, hash browns, and the like — that have been around since the invention of food. Even if the steaks are good, everything else is so dull and dated that you feel like you’ve been dropped into an old black-and-white episode of Leave It to Beaver. Then there’s Cut 432. The beef is pedigreed and killer — wet- and dry-aged, USDA Prime, Wagyu, Niman Ranch. The sides are actually interesting — beet and pistachio salad, blue cheese tater tots, pancetta-roasted Brussels sprouts. And the sleek, modern dining room and rollicking good-timey atmosphere are anything but old and tired. You don’t go to Cut to retire; you go to live.

Filet mignon is a down pillow disguised as beef. It has many characteristics of the average down pillow. It’s soft and cottony, sort of round, extremely comforting… and has all the flavor of a sack of feathers wrapped in cotton fabric and seasoned with years’ worth of dandruff. But let’s say when you separate the short loin from the tenderloin, you cut through the bone that lies between them instead of just removing the tenderloin. What you get is a filet mignon with a wraparound bone, which when cooked contributes loads of very un-filet mignon-like deep, meaty flavor while retaining all that down-pillowy tenderness. What you also get is a hard-to-find steak that at Morton’s commands a whopping $52 price tag, enough to afford a whole closet full of real down pillows. But then you’d still have to spring for dinner.

Once solely an upscale provisioning company for yachties, the Grateful Palate in Fort Lauderdale successfully evolved into a contemporary restaurant just last year. In the newly overhauled wine lounge, you’ll find both aficionados and novices sipping on global wines from family-owned vineyards. It is so serious about wine, the Grateful Palate regularly offers wine and food pairing events, classes, and tastings. Besides the 300-plus wine choices, it’s the inventive, contemporary menu that lures in first-timers and keeps those from the provisioning days returning for more. The pan-seared seafood is succulent and fresh, and the duck breast with beurre noisette is mind-numbingly delicious, as is the bone-in fillet with truffled potatoes. In keeping with many other gourmet restaurants in town, Grateful Palate has made its bed in an unassuming strip mall. No matter; the liquor store and laundromat next door won’t take away from this upscale dining experience.

Success in creating a delicious piece of fried chicken requires many trials and, often, age-old family recipes. And Mississippi-born Betty Taylor knows just how to master this culinary feat. At the mom-‘n’-pop eatery with walls adorned with pictures of MLK and Obama, fans are grubbing on some of the country-style favorites like oxtail, chicken livers, and the delicious golden-fried chicken. Betty smothers the fowl in flour loaded with secret recipe seasonings before it crackles in the deep fryer. Once fried to perfection, a gustatory shield of crispy, savory skin gives way to meat so juicy, it appears to be crying. This is the kind of fried chicken that will have you crying too.

Midmornings at Giorgio’s Bistro & Market in Hollywood attract anyone looking to relax. Sitting outside on the dock, diners sip on strong coffee while admiring the beautiful Intracoastal Waterway. They come early for freshly baked breads and pastries and likely return later for oven-baked pizzas, sandwiches, or pastas. But the pastry sure to keep them all coming back is the croissant — layers of rich, buttery dough formed to a mammoth crescent. The amber-brown top blisters with bubbles of air that burst with the lightest fleck of a finger. Even the birds at Giorgio’s know good pastry — they patiently wait for fallen morsels along the wooden deck. Once you taste a breakfast croissant, you may try to find ways to sneak it into a meal later, maybe with a salad or substituting the baguette in the smoked salmon sandwich.

Chef and co-owner Marc Falsetto knew just what was missing in Fort Lauderdale’s Himmarshee Village when he brought us Rok:Brgr. Brick walls and dark wood create a chic vibe at this small, trendy eatery. What makes Rok:Brgr such an outstanding addition to the boozy village is the fusion of comfort and gourmet foods — perfect for satisfying an alcohol-induced food craving while wearing your best shirt. Watch the nightlife unfold at an outdoor patio table while gulping a frosty-cold microbrew. Or sip on a bacon-infused Maker’s Mark to wash down dishes such as Mom’s meat loaf or short rib grilled cheese. And no late-night craving is void of a yearning for thick, juicy burgers. Satisfy the urge with the innovative Peggy burger — Black Angus beef and pulled short rib matched with horseradish cheddar and bourbon barbecue sauce. Or the delicious Las Olas burger with Wagyu beef and Gruyère cheese atop a buttery brioche bun. Don’t forget the variety of fries, including the poutine, hand-cut and smothered with gravy and cheese curds; the Parmesan reggiano with truffle oil; and the sweet potato fries with garlic aioli. Food this good is satisfying during both p.m. and a.m. Rock on, burger dudes.

Those in the know don’t go to glorified wing houses for the best chicken wings in town. They go to a kitchen painted sea-foam green and sit (that is, if you can find a spot) or stand drumstick distance from fellow in-the-know diners. Tark’s has been a Dania Beach institution for 45 years, so the folks there know chicken wings as well as their local seafood. Order the meaty drumettes “hot” and be prepared to discard your outer layer. Get ’em “terminator” and prepare to say hasta la vista to your shirt. But the best flavor, which meets all prerequisites for glorious deep-fried wings, is simply “garlic.” Crispy, saucy, and flecked with minced clove, these hunky bundles are so juicy, they sweat. Best of all, ten wings come free with a purchased pitcher of beer on Wednesdays.

Be prepared for a hearty embrace from the staff when you walk into crowded Calypso for a weekday power lunch. The warm service is guaranteed to shed any 9-to-5 woes; maybe you can’t tell the boss to eff off, but you can take a 60-minute gustatory vacation. When you’re not in the mood for jerk wings, curry, or seafood platters, the crusty blue-crab cake cutter will surely nourish your palate. The more-crab-than-cake is fried to a deep golden brown and packs a punch with island seasonings. Just a small amount of cracker binds the crab together, and although the homemade roasted pepper sauce is damned tasty, this sandwich doesn’t need it — use it as dipping sauce for the crispy steak fries instead. If only it were prudent to sprawl a beach chair on the blue- and white-checkered floor, diners could park here all afternoon instead of returning to the office.

Considering South America’s colonial history, it makes sense that colloidal kitchen-sink sandwiches have taken root in so many parts of the continent. Just consider the chivito (Uruguay), the lomito (Chile), or the butifarra (Peru): These towering monstrosities are larded with everything from filet mignon to avocado to sauerkraut, which sure seems like the ultimate middle-finger salute to those minimalist “bocadillos” the Spanish are so proud of. It’s in that fine tradition of next-level cookery that the sandwiches at Manny’s, an Argentine bakery in Coral Springs, are crafted. Each day, Manny’s bakes crusty, delicate bread from scratch and piles it high with all manner of exceptionally prepared ingredients. Its butifarra would make any Peruvian less homesick, layering house-made country ham with pickled red onions, olives, and a tangy sauce. Equally satisfying is the chicharron, which packs nearly an entire pork shoulder’s worth of juicy fried pork into a strata of roasted sweet potato, onion, and tangy mayo. But it doesn’t stop there. Manny’s does brusque baguettes stuffed with pan-fried steak Milanesa and lines soft rolls with layers upon layers of sheer cold cuts. It even makes some damned fine migas, Argentina’s addictive answer to the tea sandwich. Factor in the decidedly populist prices and Manny’s will have you pledging allegiance to the wonders of South American sandwich making.

Kesse’s menu boasts a dish called “The Best Wrap” — your choice of protein with peppers, avocado, lettuce, fresh mozzarella, grilled tomatoes, portobello mushrooms, and onions. Sounds great, but the “best” is actually trumped by a menu option a few choices away, Steve’s Wrap. We’ll forgive the error, since Kesse’s has several contenders for the title. Steve’s Wrap is Mediterranean ecstasy with falafel, baba gannouj, tahini, eggplant and tomato salad, lettuce, tabbouleh, avocado, grilled bell pepper, and onion — components that combine to create the most flavorful mush you could ever eat, interrupted by small crunches from the falafel’s crisp exterior and the stray veggies throughout. It’s a welcome bear hug for your insides. And if that isn’t enough, it comes with thick-cut seasoned fries that surpass all that you dreamed a fry could be — all for under ten bucks.

A flagrant threat to the last of the remaining Atkins dieters, doughy clouds of bread beckon passersby from the window. It’s nearly impossible not to peer inside and admire the bakers making breads fresh daily in their quiet determination. Neither the carb-conscious nor the flour fanatics can resist the blinding urge to devour treasures like oversized muffins, crusty rectangles of ciabatta, fennel-raisin focaccia, or hazelnut biscotti. As if the bakery weren’t satisfying enough, a second location on the boulevard (a casual eatery, Gran Forno Pronto) opened recently to give special attention to the breads: panini, pizza, bruschetta, and pastries. Get to Gran Forno early to have full pick of the breadbasket. Do pay your parking meter — otherwise you might be fleeing into the street with flour-dusted fingers and lips.

In a small, simple space on Federal Highway, chef Giovanni Rocchio is inspired. The gastronomist reinvents everyday recipes, turning them into extraordinary dishes via his crafty technique. Rocchio could fashion marinara sauce out of water, but it’s his oversized ham and egg ravioli that’s a whimsical tribute to everyday Italian. Freshly made squares of pasta are piped with fresh ricotta and spinach, forming a protective border for an egg yolk to be gingerly placed inside. With tender touch, the filling is sealed and the ravioli briefly boiled, then finished with truffle butter and crispy pancetta. A slice of the knife releases tangy yolk that commingles with succulent and salty sauce served alongside grilled asparagus and prosciutto bread. This pasta dish could be better only if Valentino’s decided to open for breakfast.

There are so many factors that make this timeless diner along Dania Beach’s antique row a worthy breakfast pit stop. For starters, the place has been baking its own breads, cakes, pastries, and pies since it opened in 1957. Slide into one of its age-worn booths and order breakfast (served any time of day) and the first thing that happens is the waitress will serve you a complimentary order of Grampa’s famous fresh-baked danishes. She’ll pour you a tall, hot cup of coffee and treat you as sweet as a slice of Grampa’s cherry pie. The breakfasts too are a kind of no-fuss perfection: two eggs over easy, crisp bacon, crunchy toasted rye bread with plenty of sweet cream butter; fluffy blueberry pancakes bathed in syrup and butter; colossal omelets with all manner of meat, cheese, and veggies; eggs Benedict, homemade biscuits with sausage gravy, and some damned fine French toast. Did we mention Grampa’s also has a bar? Two, in fact: One has wine and beer; the other is the sort of diner-style counter top you might share with a guy in a trucker hat who swears he’s been eating here every day for 15 years. Man, you can almost taste the nostalgia. Now that’s a breakfast.

A generous half-pound beef patty charred to a crisp on the outside with a tender pink inside, smothered in melted cheese and sandwiched amid cold lettuce, fresh tomatoes, onions, mayo, and pickle spears on a hearty fresh Kaiser roll — that’s the Old Fashioned Cheeseburger, and there’s no reason to detour from a perfect classic. This creation — an impeccable assemblage of everything that makes a burger fucking amazing — is not for the faint of heart. Take a fork and a handful of napkins, because you’ll need to hoover everything that falls out the back when you bite into whichever side you deem the front. The pickle spears and mayo make the meat slip and slide on the roll like a game of hard to get with someone you lust after madly. But, of course, that burger is yours in the end, and you’ll undoubtedly be jonesing for a second date by the end of the week.

On first glance, Shalama’s Halal Roti Shop looks like the sort of dicey hole in the wall where you might find yourself at 2 a.m. after a night-long drinking binge. But look closer and you’ll catch a glimpse of the kitchen located just behind the front counter. Inside, you’ll see a handful of hard-working matriarchs doing the same sort of time-tested home cooking that goes on in households all across Trinidad and Tobago. Those ladies have all the techniques down: making dough by hand and cooking flatbreads to order; sweating down garlic, onions, and Scotch bonnet pepper in a giant wok; gently coaxing flavor out of fatty, marrow-filled bits of lamb and chicken, then rendering those slow-cooked ingredients into curries bursting with character. When it all comes together, the results are magical. There’s the spicy-sweet interplay of stewed meat and curried squash. And the textural variation of soft filling and chewy flatbread wrapping it all together. It’s perfect drunk food, no doubt, but that’s largely because it’s also perfect soul food. And that’s something that makes sense no matter what country you call home.

Tucked into a random medical-office strip mall near the Florida Atlantic University campus, Bombay Cafe concocts its delectable creations without frills like tablecloths or even table service. Order at the counter, grab some plastic utensils, and wait for the best combination of spices you’ve tasted all year. The vegetarian curries are outstanding, especially the mattar paneer — curried peas and chunks of cheese. A perfect marriage of buttery-smooth tomato sauce and simmering masala spices — turmeric, ginger, garlic, chili powder — make it impossible to stop spooning this dish on your plate. The red lentil daal is equally impressive. Most entrées are cooked fresh to order — no congealed buffet food here. The food is fast, cheap, and unapologetically exotic. Tourists haven’t discovered this place, and that’s a good thing.

Almost from the minute it opened in January, Clay Conley’s Buccan was the hottest dining ticket in Palm Beach. Named after the wooden grill used to cook over an open fire in the Caribbean, it might not be quite the restaurant you’d expect in the playground of the obscenely rich and inexplicably famous, neatly splitting the difference between upscale sophistication and casual comfort. The space itself offers an ambiance for almost every mood, from a small bar and sofa-bedecked lounge to bustling main dining room and intimate dining area by the glassed-in wine room. The food is equally accommodating (not to mention ravishing), treating more adventurous palates to choices like sweetbread and mushroom spring roll and Korean short-rib tacos while cosseting conservative taste buds with herb-roasted chicken and ricotta gnocchi Bolognese. Prices, however, are comforting to wallets of all dimensions, with a roster of small plates ranging from $5 to $12 and many dishes available in half and full portions.

“Whiz?” the cashier asks, and it’s a test to see if you’ve ever had a real Philly cheese steak, the kind from South Street, where the grease and exhaust fumes are plentiful and no one raises an eyebrow at cheese that comes in a can.

If you can’t stomach the Cheez Whiz, it’s fine; they have American and provolone. They also have doughy, soft, and slightly greasy rolls to cradle the fresh rib-eye steak, plus perfectly salted fries to satisfy your drunken cravings after the bars close. Top your steak with peppers and onions, and grab a table on the sidewalk. Inhaling this snack takes less than five minutes, long enough to remember that living in Florida isn’t bad — so long as it occasionally tastes like Philly.

The only really difficult task is choosing. Will it be a black-bean burger, hearty and savory, with a hint of spice, perhaps some guacamole on top? Or maybe you prefer a wild mushroom patty — not a ground pile of mush but real mushrooms, packed together, topped with Brie or artichoke hearts. This place is ready to please anyone who doesn’t want a slab of beef. There’s a shrimp burger, another made of mahi-mahi, or lobster. Add to that more than 20 “relish” toppings, from asparagus fresco to scotch bonnet mango and blackberry compote. You can spend half an hour gazing at the menu, or you can order a milk shake and fries while you ponder. Either way, it’s much better than another frozen Gardenburger.

Nestled along the Intracoastal Waterway, Guanabanas will immediately make you feel like you’re at an expensive tropical resort with its carved-wood tables and chairs, stone walkways, lush green palm trees, and polite staff. It may seem like a reflex to order a Corona and conch fritters given your surroundings, but after the first batch, it will be out of necessity. Just $8.95 gets you a handful of fritters that are perfectly fried on the outside and tender on the in, served with a tangy sweet-and-sour sauce and lemon slices. Once you bite into the crispy outer layer and taste the fresh conch on the inside, you’ll be reluctant to share. Even non-seafood lovers have been known to get down on a batch of Guanabanas’ conch fritters, and with good reason.

When was the last time you ate a taco that made you curse because it was so good? Try the spicy Korean pulled-pork concoction at Nacho Bizness, a mobile food truck generally located in Southwest Fort Lauderdale. Chilled cucumber, spicy sour cream, and sweet chili sauce atop a righteous helping of juicy, seasoned pork is everything a taco lover has always wanted without ever knowing it was possible. Asian fusion is far from passé when you fuse it inside a fresh corn tortilla. Don’t bring anyone along who isn’t prepared to hear you outwardly express how fucking amazing it is.

Before World of Beer opened in the Promenade at Coconut Creek last July, craft beer was still very much an alternative movement in South Florida, spoken of mostly by dyed-in-the-wool fans who were sick of the words Bud and Miller being uttered in the same context as beer. These days, another location has opened on Clematis Street, and your mom and dad probably go to World of Beer to get their weekly Belgian blond fix (and no, that’s not a swinging reference). Truth is, the massive beer-emporium-cum-rock-bar has popularized craft beer in a way few could have imagined. At the heart of that is an ever-rotating selection of more than 500 beers that includes a sizable draft list of 40-plus brews from the likes of Dogfish Head, Rogue, and Cigar City. Almost every night of the week, the joint is ass-to-glass packed with newly minted beer fans. You can even get a World of Beer customer card that keeps track of all the nifty beers you’ve tried so far. Sample 50 unique brews and you get a black-on-yellow “WoB Culture” T-shirt — it looks cool at the bar and matches that Great Divide Oak Aged Yetti Imperial Stout you’ve been drinking. Yep, craft beer is good. And thanks to World of Beer, it’s getting better and better in SoFla.

“How are the bagels made? Do you boil them? Huh?! DO YOU?!” South Florida locals are known to kvetch over their bagels. You see, the perfect bagel is boiled and then put in a rotating oven until it’s a golden, toasty brown, and New York transplants are experts at detecting fakes. Bagel Boyz employees nod politely because yes, they’ve heard this question a million times. And yes, the answer always pleases the picky customers. The little family-owned business has exploded since the first store opened in Jupiter’s Abacoa Plaza many years ago. The one store has since turned into a small chain with four order-at-the-counter-style restaurants that extend from Jupiter all the way down to West Palm Beach.