Relish may be known for its burgers, but a certain distinction should be made for its milk shakes — all 14 to 17 of them. "Rich and creamy" doesn't even begin to describe them. Made with ice cream, they're thick enough to make even competitive eaters think twice about ordering seconds. The list includes cookies 'n' cream, chocolate cherry, bananas foster, espresso bean, peanut butter cup, salted caramel, chocolate truffle, and — of course — a traditional black and white. Each one is blended just right so that each ingredient is clearly distinguishable. Take the strawberry shortcake, served with large pieces of fresh-cut strawberries and bite-sized bits of angel-food cake swirled into the mix, while the campfire s'mores shake comes dotted with marshmallow, graham cracker, and chocolate chunks. Of course, you can also customize, and feel free to add favorites like peanut butter, malt, or chocolate to any shake for just 99 cents more.

This new ice cream parlor and dessert shop is sweet-tooth overkill. What to order? The snow cones, made with fresh-shaved ice using old-fashioned, hand-operated, ice-cutting machines? Soft-serve frozen yogurt, offered in hundreds of flavors? Or handmade ice cream cookie sandwiches? The bestsellers are the shaved ice, with more than a dozen flavor combinations like strawberries and cream or Dreamsicle. Both begin with a layer of either regular or soft-serve vanilla ice cream at the bottom, topped with layers of fresh-shaved ice and finished with any of the Hawaiian syrups mixed fresh in-house. Customizable, made-to-order ice cream cakes allow customers to pick two of their favorite ice cream flavors and add endless toppings swirled into the mix. Cakes are topped with sprinkles for a delicious, take-home treat.

Historians say the burrito as we know it came into being in California — not Mexico — sometime during the 19th Century. No one can say, "What? That's not an authentic burrito!" because the burrito is still evolving. So Taco Prince commits no culinary sin by including French fries — in addition to carne asada, guacamole, avocado slices, pico de gallo, and cheese — in its California Burrito. It kind of makes sense: Though potatoes are often thought of as an Irish food, they originally came from the Americas — North and South. So if any culture has a claim to them, it's Mexico. Whatever — just eat the danged thing. It's delicious! Besides, when have French fries ever not improved a meal?

In a place with a large population of transplanted New Yorkers, calling this yellow-school-bus-looking food truck PS561 was a pretty smart marketing move. Transplanting Sabrett hot dogs (every New Yorker's favorite) and grilling them inside said food truck was an even better move. The rather legendary 100-percent-beef dogs are the kind of links that other, lesser tubes of meat aspire to be. They'd be pretty amazing dirty-water-style on a bun with some mustard, but PS561 is a hip gourmet food truck, so there was no chance of leaving it at that — thank God. Instead, cooks split the dogs, then grill them. All menu items have academically inspired names: the FCAT (bacon, sweet coleslaw, jalapeños, barbecue sauce), the Principal Ron (goat cheese, bacon, barbecue sauce), and the Crazy Art Teacher (extra barbecue sauce, jalepeños, cheddar cheese, and Fritos chips). If you are feeling adventurous, try the Math Whiz, topped with Asian-style slaw and Sriracha mayonnaise. Animal lovers, never fear — they've got veggie dogs too. Though PS561 is based out of Lake Worth, it travels all over Broward and Palm Beach. Follow the truck on Facebook, or tweet @ps561 and ask them to bring the dogs to your business or event.

Chicken wings. They're symbolic of all things American: football, daytime drinking, the great city of Buffalo, fried food. While we love ourselves a good ol' piece of 'Murica, times are a-changin'. Wings are no longer limited to mild, medium, hot, or atomic. Kapow! Noodle Bar has ushered in a new dawn of chicken wings with Vietnamese-style treats. Rather than being smothered in fatty sauce, these little beauts take a swim in a sweet, spicy, Asian-inspired marinade and then are drained and fried dry. They're served piping hot, sprinkled with cilantro and a drizzle of the sauce, reduced to a syrup.

Not even a born-and-bred Philly-cheese-steak purist could deny the awesomeness that is Famous Phil's Steak Bomb. A mere $9.58 gets you a soft, 12-inch bun piled high with thin-sliced rib eye, provolone cheese, mushrooms, peppers, onion, and a ladleful of spaghetti sauce. Only two things result from taking on a sandwich of that magnitude: stomach-stretching fullness and a red-sauce-stained shirt. It's all worth it. Famous Phil's has been a Plantation institution for more than four decades. The standing-room-only shop has changed hands a few times since Kim Bartnick opened. Current owner Sheila DiPasquale, who worked at Phil's for 35 years before buying it in 2007, has kept everything inside the small, cash-only shop the same, including the menu, vendors, and Formica-heavy décor. If Sheila isn't the one making your sandwich, it's her daughter Ramonda Leonard or daughter-in-law Hope Matthieson.

When pho is good, it's freaking amazing. Unfortunately, it's hard to come across one that's executed well: the majority being oversalted, one-dimensional broths, filled with the basic meats, noodles, and herbs. What the pho? Not the case at Saigon City. Situated in a Lauderdale Lakes shopping mall, in the Vietnamese area of 441 — yes, there is such a thing — this spot churns out piping-hot bowls of the most delectably rich pho you can find in South Florida. For less than 11 bucks a pop, it's a deal that is — pardon our pun — unphogettable.

This building has been a Texaco gas station, and more recently, the Poopie Doll Florist, but today, after renovations, owner Barry Hilton and his partner and executive chef, Roberto Sanchez, have transformed it into a rustic barbecue shack that serves the most authentic, wood-smoked barbecue around. According to Hilton, the secret to their success is in the smoker, the same one Sanchez used at a restaurant in Austin, Texas. It uses 100 percent wood logs to smoke the meat and absolutely no electricity or gasoline — something only a few restaurants in South Florida can lay claim to. Everyone's favorite: the beef brisket, which is given a secret spice rub and slow-smoked for 14 hours before it's fresh-sliced and served as a sandwich. "Here, we don't try to overload the meat with a lot of seasoning," Hilton says. "We let the wood and meat do its own thing."

Since opening in mid-September, the 2,000-square-foot red stucco building a mile west of I-95 has garnered a unique and devoted crowd hankering for a taste of Bay Bay's signature dish: chicken and waffles. Sure, the waffles are good, but it's owner Israel Johnson's fried chicken that makes this dish a knockout. The family recipe includes a special blend of spices and breading; that poor chicken goes through an elaborate (and top-secret) 11-step process before being fried and plated for your enjoyment. Johnson produces the absolute most flavorful, crispy chick-chick around — so good, you won't even need the waffle and syrup.

To plan a proper bachelorette party, you need a stripper, party hats, and cupcakes that inform the bride-to-be that it's time to say farewell to all other penises. This Pembroke Pines shop doesn't specialize in penis cupcakes, but it does sell them special order. And the best part isn't even the silly private-part shapes but the actual cake. The people of Royal Treatz are cupcake geniuses. Their cakes are about a thousand times better than Magnolia's famous desserts. This is not an exaggeration. Even if you're staying home, it wouldn't hurt to order a dozen of these crotch-inspired treats and call it a satisfying night.