Locations in Orlando

Biker-friendly bar with two pool tables, foosball and a beer and wine bar. Monday Ladies Night Tuesday 2 for 1 Wednesday Karaoke Friday-Saturday Bike Night, live music

Our heritage is from the Caribbean and at Justins Caribbean Fusion our aim is to share our passion for great food, people and provide excellent service. The Caribbean is a fusion of food, taste and culture that is unique and vibrant to that region and our food reflects that uniqueness. We are also committed to expanding our guests' palates to new and interesting levels. Join us in taking a journey to the Caribbean as you step through our doors.

Karma Korner is a unique party place with a variety of parties and events. The club boasts an extra large dance floor and an airy atmosphere.

From the moment we walked into Kimonos, we had the sense we were not in an ordinary sushi bar. This small enclave, located deep in the recesses of the Swan resort at Walt Disney World, has an unusual atmospheric cocktail mix that transports its visitors to a place that seems very far away.

The dining area is smart and spare. Rich, lustrous wood paneling creates a luxurious look. A series of rice paper cylinder lamps are suspended overhead in repetition. A dramatic collection of ornate kimonos are suspended along the fringes of the room. A bustling wait staff are clad from head to toe in Japanese garb, and at the sushi bar by the front entrance, chefs carve and slice a lush assortment of seafood in a form of performance art.

The dining area is smart and spare. Rich, lustrous wood paneling creates a luxurious look. A series of rice paper cylinder lamps are suspended overhead in repetition. A dramatic collection of ornate kimonos are suspended along the fringes of the room. A bustling wait staff are clad from head to toe in Japanese garb, and at the sushi bar by the front entrance, chefs carve and slice a lush assortment of seafood in a form of performance art.

Simplicity is the hallmark of the dining experience here. The menu is brief and to the point: There are less than a dozen appetizers which include miso soup and tempura combos. The rest of the meal includes sushi -- lots of it, served exquisitely fresh.

Simplicity is the hallmark of the dining experience here. The menu is brief and to the point: There are less than a dozen appetizers which include miso soup and tempura combos. The rest of the meal includes sushi -- lots of it, served exquisitely fresh.

For starters, get numb with a Kimono Cocktail, which is scented with the sharp, distinctive flavors of Absolute Mandarin and cranberry juice, garnished with a snappy lime wedge. It has such an inviting perfume, you might momentarily forget to take a sip ($6.95).

For starters, get numb with a Kimono Cocktail, which is scented with the sharp, distinctive flavors of Absolute Mandarin and cranberry juice, garnished with a snappy lime wedge. It has such an inviting perfume, you might momentarily forget to take a sip ($6.95).

Among the appetizers, gyoza dumplings are an attractive Japanese version of pot stickers ($6). Won ton skins are filled with ground pork and a chopped assortment of water chestnuts, scallions and seasonings that are slightly edgy and spicy. Crimped into crescent shapes and pan-seared, they're easily wielded with chopsticks. A dish of Oriental sauce adds flavor; it's slightly salty, but milder than soy sauce.

Among the appetizers, gyoza dumplings are an attractive Japanese version of pot stickers ($6). Won ton skins are filled with ground pork and a chopped assortment of water chestnuts, scallions and seasonings that are slightly edgy and spicy. Crimped into crescent shapes and pan-seared, they're easily wielded with chopsticks. A dish of Oriental sauce adds flavor; it's slightly salty, but milder than soy sauce.

"Seaweed salad," however, was marred on our visit by a heavy-handed infusion of saltiness in the ponzu sauce ($4.50). But the seaweed itself was visually pleasing, with a deep, midnight color. The texture was silky and firm, too, accented by nutty hints of sesame seeds.

"Seaweed salad," however, was marred on our visit by a heavy-handed infusion of saltiness in the ponzu sauce ($4.50). But the seaweed itself was visually pleasing, with a deep, midnight color. The texture was silky and firm, too, accented by nutty hints of sesame seeds.

Among the variety of sushi we explored, the Spider Roll ($8) featured six pieces of soft shell crab, fried into a delicious tangle for visual impact. It was gently crunchy and highly flavorful. The Kimonos Roll ($5) was highlighted by rich-flavored tuna flesh and pale pink yellowtail, which had a slightly stronger taste.

Among the variety of sushi we explored, the Spider Roll ($8) featured six pieces of soft shell crab, fried into a delicious tangle for visual impact. It was gently crunchy and highly flavorful. The Kimonos Roll ($5) was highlighted by rich-flavored tuna flesh and pale pink yellowtail, which had a slightly stronger taste.

The "sushi deluxe plate" ($17.50) included the chef's selection of nightly offerings. We particularly enjoyed the squid roll, which had a rubbery quality that was curiously pleasing; and a bit of mackerel, which was savory. There also were generous carvings of sweet, firm shrimp and crab rolls, and a selection of red snapper, which was lean and tender.

The "sushi deluxe plate" ($17.50) included the chef's selection of nightly offerings. We particularly enjoyed the squid roll, which had a rubbery quality that was curiously pleasing; and a bit of mackerel, which was savory. There also were generous carvings of sweet, firm shrimp and crab rolls, and a selection of red snapper, which was lean and tender.

Kimono's has one distinction that must be noted for those who visit in large groups -- seating is dominated by tables for two, which staff members cluster together when necessary. And the sushi bar scarcely seats half a dozen people. Due to the intimate dimensions of the dining area, it can also be hazardous territory for those allergic to smoke. When someone lit up at the next table over, my allergy-prone friend had to flee while I waited for the bill.

Kimono's has one distinction that must be noted for those who visit in large groups -- seating is dominated by tables for two, which staff members cluster together when necessary. And the sushi bar scarcely seats half a dozen people. Due to the intimate dimensions of the dining area, it can also be hazardous territory for those allergic to smoke. When someone lit up at the next table over, my allergy-prone friend had to flee while I waited for the bill.

Nevertheless, Kimono's is one of the most elegant settings for sushi in all of Orlando. The gorgeous collection of ornate robes on display are almost worth a visit in themselves.

"Smell my fingers," my dining comrade commanded after decapitating a freshly boiled crawfish, thrusting her cayenne-tinged digits into my face. The scent of garlic, spices and the sea made me want to lap that hand like a thirsty mutt, thumb to pinky and everywhere in between. But that wouldn't have been appropriate, given my unstained hands were longing to be reddened and licked themselves. And that we were dining in public.

If thoughts of Louisiana crawfish lead to thoughts of sea life caked in crude oil, rest assured these crawfish are farm-raised. The only thing crude is the manner in which the little buggers are devoured – twist off the head and suck the juice, then pinch the tail and pull the meat. A pretty mess, no doubt, and we devoured a pound ($6.99) of the medium-sized crustaceans while going through about a thousand paper napkins. (Where are the Wet-Naps?) Our seasoning choice – "sha bang" – amounted to a blend of lemon pepper, garlic butter and Cajun spices. Even at "medium" heat it was enough to set the nose of another of my dining companions to trickling, requiring strategic placement of the bone bucket. On the side, corn on the cob ($1.50) is mandatory – sweet and swimming in a pool of seasoned (read: spicy) butter. Pass on the subpar potato salad ($1.50) and coleslaw ($1.50) and go for the Hershey-Kiss-shaped hush puppies ($1.50) – the bite-sized fritters were gone before we even knew it.

A bowl of gumbo ($3.95), we thought, would offer a proper pre-crawdad indulgence. Purporting to be based on a "spicy roux," the soup was disappointingly thin and lacked the dark reddish-brown hue that typifies the Cajun stew. The restaurant is run by a pleasant Vietnamese family who moved to Orlando from New Orleans, and I couldn't help but think that the soup's consistency was more like pho and less like gumbo. To its credit, the assemblage did include a heap of sausage, shrimp, chicken and okra.

I would've liked to have seen a Vietnamese po'boy (aka a banh mi) as part of their sandwich offerings, but we were nonetheless pleased with the catfish po'boy ($5.95), even if the bread wasn't true crispy Louisiana-style French bread. (Note: If you're jonesing for a muffuletta, you won't find it here.) No surprise seeing basa ($7.95), a mild-flavored Vietnamese river fish, on the menu. It's given a cornmeal treatment here, then battered and fried, resulting in the desired texture combo – flaky flesh and crispy skin. As a bonus, we got three fillets instead of the advertised two. For dessert, we got none of the advertised three – cheesecake ($2.75), pecan pie ($2.75) or fried banana ($2.75) – as they were all out, so we opted to end with some wonderfully potent Cafe du Monde coffee ($1.75) though, admittedly, we missed the beignets. The cuppa joe stoked our inner chatterbox and we found ourselves settling in and comfortably yapping away in this small, fan-blown space. The eatery comprises all the elements of a coastal dive minus the coast, and like the aroma wafting from my companion's fingers, we interminably lingered.

In the world of the Hard Rock corporation, waitresses are encouraged to lead lives tantamount to those of rock stars. I should know; I used to work there. The company was so insistent on their cozy star status that they psyched employees into believing that working there equaled partying with stars every night. That was 10 years ago. Today, Hard Rock is all grown up and offers a place not to party with celebrities, but to eat like them.

The Kitchen is tucked away on the bottom floor, near the pool, of the chic Hard Rock Hotel. Walking in, the first thing one sees is a sleek modern kitchen offset by a bar, which is really a chef's table. That one sliver of the expansive dining room alone feels like the cooking quarters in a dream home - which is exactly the Hard Rock's intent.

"The hotel is designed to look like a rock star's mansion," the PR rep tells me. "The kitchen is where he'd go to whip up a late-night snack."

Just like its famous sister restaurant, Hard Rock Café, The Kitchen is decked out with kitschy memorabilia, but here rock & roll meets culinary utensils. Who wouldn't at least glance at the oddity of a spatula signed by Mike Love from the Beach Boys? Or a black chef's jacket with leopard-print trim made exclusively for Joan Jett? When a cheese grater was presented to us at the beginning of the meal, it took a minute to figure out that it was actually a menu for the specials. Even the tables are made of stainless steel countertops like those found at stove-side workstations.

By all means, bring the kids along. One of the best things about The Kitchen is that there's something for everyone. The food is largely of the comfort variety, and there are family favorites with trendy twists. Macaroni and cheese ($10.25) is made with Spanish manchego; fried calamari ($9.95) is served fusion-style with Asian slaw and Thai dipping sauce; filet mignon ($24) is drenched in delicious Argentinean chimichurri sauce. But there's no need to waste all this good food on the chicken-tender specialists. The Kitchen has a buffet just for the younger generation that is stockpiled with pizza and other kid-friendly delights. Not only that, but there's a rec room dedicated to their needs, as well. While you're civilly nibbling Asian vegetable rolls ($7.95) and conversing about the world at large, the kids can crowd around colorful games and toys, devouring fries from special TV trays.

At times, not enough care is taken with some components of this otherwise tasty menu. The bacon on the iceberg wedge ($7.95) was so overcooked and salty that I felt as though I was chewing on jerky. Two pieces of tuna on the plate of charred ahi seemed to come from different fish, one a princess of the sea and the other her evil stepsister. I was not impressed with dessert: We tried s'mores and bread pudding, both too big and way over the top.

Among the tasty adult selections, I tried the crab cakes ($9.95), two fresh discs of sweet crabmeat tenderly fried and served alongside golden corn bread and clever Old Bay rémoulade. Peanut-crusted chicken wings ($8.95) were served in a pail with the longest celery sticks I've ever seen. The presentation was cute, but unfortunately the pasty layer of Buffalo barbecue sauce was cloying. The seafood chowder ($15.95) was excellent, bursting with grouper, shrimp and scallops; the rich, creamy sauce still allowed the taste of delicate leeks and corn to shine through. Likewise, a plate of charred ahi tuna ($23) allowed both rich and light flavors to work in harmony. A sesame rice cake was not overpowered by wasabi cream and pickled ginger, but enhanced by the tangy sharpness.

At The Kitchen, you may not brush elbows with rock stars, but you are certainly eating in surroundings that make you feel like one yourself.

It's an odd latitude to find such an authentic touch of India in the little shopping plaza just west of the I-4/436 bridge. But, nestled in the middle of Altamonte Springs' commercial clutter, Kohinoor offers just that.

In a word, "serene" most aptly describes the ambience of this establishment, from the plants placed throughout a cooling, deep green and white interior, to the unobtrusive strains of music, to the quiet voices of the staff.

A menu offering an extensive choice starts with soups ($2.50). My vegetable soup, actually a kind of puree, liberally seasoned, was hot, smooth and tasty; my dining companion found the lentil soup a spicy treat.

Eight appetizers ($1-$7.95) cover the gamut from papadam, a kind of thin bean wafer, to chicken tikka -- boneless, marinated chicken pieces cooked in a clay oven -- to my choice, the vegetable samosa, which featured two crisp, yummy patties of potatoes and peas with a light touch of Indian spices. My companion enjoyed a mixed pakora of onions, green pepper, potatoes, spinach and chickpeas.

From a dozen vegetarian entrees ($7.50-$8.50), I found the dal-makhni, matpa beans simmered with tomatoes and ginger, a tangy culinary treat. the more familiar bhartha was equally a palate-pleaser, the eggplant seasoned exactly right for my tastes.

My dining companion enjoyed the aloo gobhi, a delicately seasoned mix of cauliflower, potatoes, green peas, green pepper, onion and tomatoes.

For lamb lovers, Kohinoor offers five dishes ($10.95-$11.95). Perhaps the best of Kohinoor's traditional recipes is to be found among the tandoor selections 9$9.50-$15.95), six dishes prepared slowly, with mild and aromatic herbs, in a clay oven -- king-size, marinated shrimp, for example, or minced lamb. Then, too, there are seven chicken options ($9.50-$11.95) that find the bird cooked in everything from spinach to tomatoes to curry to almond sauce.

While the restaurant offers a variety of entree specialties, we could have had just an assortment of their delightful breads ($1.75-$3.75) and left the place happy. An assortment of Indian desserts rounds out the menu.

Whereas the food was good, and the surroundings lovely, the service was exceptional, with quiet, graceful women, in traditional dress, attending us unobtrusively and attentively.

My mantra for this dining experience is definitely "yuummm."

Korea House dates back to 1982, and while that's hardly early history in terms of the city's evolution, the restaurant was nonetheless a pioneer on the dining scene. For many years, it was the only local eatery offering a taste of the Land of the Morning Sun, and now it's among the few.

Even today, the phone book lists just two other sources for Korean food: Korea Garden, which is down the street from Korea House; and Korea House Oriental Super Market on Edgewater Drive, which is completely unrelated to the restaurant. Oddly enough, there are more Korean churches than restaurants: six in all. There's never been the mainstream acceptance of Korean food as there has been for other Asian cuisines.

Even today, the phone book lists just two other sources for Korean food: Korea Garden, which is down the street from Korea House; and Korea House Oriental Super Market on Edgewater Drive, which is completely unrelated to the restaurant. Oddly enough, there are more Korean churches than restaurants: six in all. There's never been the mainstream acceptance of Korean food as there has been for other Asian cuisines.

Korea House offers a tour of classic Korean flavors: garlic, ginger, soy and hot pepper. The atmosphere is at once genteel and bohemian. There's a Spartan quality to the dining area, with just 10 tables, a few paper lanterns and rice-paper partitions. At night the overhead lighting is far too harsh. But there is a quiet throughout the room, even as servers deliver tray after tray of delicacies to the customers.

Korea House offers a tour of classic Korean flavors: garlic, ginger, soy and hot pepper. The atmosphere is at once genteel and bohemian. There's a Spartan quality to the dining area, with just 10 tables, a few paper lanterns and rice-paper partitions. At night the overhead lighting is far too harsh. But there is a quiet throughout the room, even as servers deliver tray after tray of delicacies to the customers.

Korea House rivals the average Chinese restaurant in terms of price and value. For the cost of a $32 dinner for two, we received an overly abundant amount of food. We tried: yaki mandoo, pan-fried dumplings stuffed with beef and vegetables and crimped into crescents ($4.25), sushi-esque kim bap, seaweed rolls filled with beef and vegetables ($3.95), a bowl of tofu soup with miso and spinach ($1.95), and a generous platter of bulgogi beef, which is kind of like Korean barbecue, marinated in a sweet garlic sauce ($9.95). The pizza-sized pajuen, a fried potato pancake laced with scallions, oysters, clams, peppers and rice, was delicious, but unwieldy and difficult to slice.

Korea House rivals the average Chinese restaurant in terms of price and value. For the cost of a $32 dinner for two, we received an overly abundant amount of food. We tried: yaki mandoo, pan-fried dumplings stuffed with beef and vegetables and crimped into crescents ($4.25), sushi-esque kim bap, seaweed rolls filled with beef and vegetables ($3.95), a bowl of tofu soup with miso and spinach ($1.95), and a generous platter of bulgogi beef, which is kind of like Korean barbecue, marinated in a sweet garlic sauce ($9.95). The pizza-sized pajuen, a fried potato pancake laced with scallions, oysters, clams, peppers and rice, was delicious, but unwieldy and difficult to slice.

There was much variety among the side items, with 11 offerings included with the meal, gratis, including cucumbers in sweet vinegar sauce, marinated bean sprouts, pickled turnips and pan-seared tofu. We sampled several varieties of kimchi, the pickled cabbage dish that is the cornerstone of the Korean diet. We had a traditional version, which had been fermented with hot peppers and caught us off-guard with its spiciness. A dish of house soy sauce added a mild, sweet dimension to different dinner items, and it wasn't salty in the least.

There was much variety among the side items, with 11 offerings included with the meal, gratis, including cucumbers in sweet vinegar sauce, marinated bean sprouts, pickled turnips and pan-seared tofu. We sampled several varieties of kimchi, the pickled cabbage dish that is the cornerstone of the Korean diet. We had a traditional version, which had been fermented with hot peppers and caught us off-guard with its spiciness. A dish of house soy sauce added a mild, sweet dimension to different dinner items, and it wasn't salty in the least.

For a culinary adventure at Korea House, you won't need a lot of money, just a hearty appetite and an open mind.

Forget whatevery concept you may have about buffets. This "upscale" Asian restaurant will have you bursting with quality Chinese dishes, made-to-order hibachi and all the freshly prepared sushi you can eat. 

Teaser: For bottomless appetites or those who like to take a bite of every chocolate in the box, KoyWan is a great deal. Just eight bucks is the lunchtime entry fee ($11 for dinner) to 15 kinds of sushi, tables full of familiar Chinese dishes and custom-grilled hibachi offerings. Freshness and authenticity here isn't what you'd find in any of the Asian restaurants crowding the Mills 50 district, but for some diners, quantity trumps quality, and for them, this is a gold mine.

This November, Kres gets its proverbial star on the Red Meat Walk of Fame when it joins the ranks of other Orlando steakhouses celebrating 10 years in the business of beef. Quite the accomplishment for a high-end chophouse that a) opened in the heart of a bar- and club-infested strip, and b) had the audacity to shun the established practice of possessive nomenclature. In the world of Ruth’s and Linda’s, Morton’s and Charley’s, Christner’s, Shula’s and Vito’s, Kres is the odd man out, and that suits this downtown boîte just fine.

From the onset, Kres looked to draw a more urbane and sophisticated clientele, and, save for the smattering of pre-clubbing 1-percenters, this tactic, even 10 years later, appears to have worked. The turn-of-the-21st-century decor feels slightly dated and perhaps a redesign is in order, but Kres is still worthy of being housed inside one of downtown’s most architecturally revered buildings – not just for its bill of fare, but also for its throwback focus on customer service. From our initial phone call to make reservations to the genial farewells on our exit, the staff here made us feel prized – as prized as, say, an expensive foie gras. No: foie gras crowning a tenderloin of elk! Yes. And that just so happened to be one of the dishes in which we indulged: an 8-ounce cut ($35), to be exact. Cooked to a perfect medium-rare, the lean elk loin was made instantly rich with that buttery tiara of foie ($13). Nary a hint of gaminess; no dental-displacing sinews; just a perfect cut married perfectly with that buttery epicurean delight. Our prime 18-ounce rib-eye steak ($39) may have been a tad undercooked, but that just made the leftovers all the better the following morning in their rebirth as steak and eggs. The rib-eye’s marbling was sublime, and its flavor more so. Steaks and chops are served a la carte; our choice of greens and starch sides were grilled asparagus ($8) and cheddar-rosemary mashed potatoes ($7). Though both served their respective purpose, we would’ve rather ordered another side of foie.

Prior to all that luxurious richness, we started with an old-guard staple – oysters Rockefeller ($15), baked with a properly herbaceous butter sauce. Our impeccably trained server also suggested a nontraditional starter to break up our Gatsbian feast, namely “Aegean style” lamb ribs ($14). The ribs are marinated in kalamata olive oil, spicy mustard and herbs, then braised to a soft succulence before being zested with caramelized lemon wheels. It’s a difficult dish to eat delicately, but then again, steakhouses don’t exactly play to the genteel side of dining.

Our server’s suggested wine pairings were admirable, though in-house sommelier Rob Christie patrols the red-velveted space offering recommendations for serious wine drinkers. Red velvet didn’t find its way to the dessert menu, but white chocolate bread pudding ($9) did. The meal-capper was sumptuous, ample enough for two, and hooched with enough panther sweat to bring back the Jazz Age.

As you exit the restaurant and take in the grand space, the original art, the triple-crown and dentil-crown molding, one thing becomes exceedingly clear: Kres naturally exudes a verve and panache that other steakhouses can’t match. If flair is as important as your filet, Kres is the place.

The building's not much to look at, but there's no missing the brilliant color of La Granja – yellow-orange and lots of it. The only adornment is the name of the South Florida fast-food chain emblazoned in red along with the description: "Pollos y carnes a la brasa," which loosely translates into "chicken and meat on the grill."

The parking lot is usually buzzing with cars, whether it's lunchtime or dinnertime, and on busy days, the kitchen runs out of some items. So there's obviously been a warm reception to this ethnic spot near the intersection of Semoran Boulevard and Aloma Avenue in Winter Park (where Miami Subs used to be).

There's a drive-through window, but go inside to see what people are packing away: large plates of spit-roasted chicken, grilled steak and pork accompanied by large helpings of white rice, black or red beans and french fries. The standard "Family meal #1" ($26) includes half a chicken, half a pound each of pork and steak, large rice and beans, large french fries and four sodas. Call it Latin American comfort food (or call it a carbohydrate curse), but the meat is the star of the meal, with its "secret" Peruvian spicing permeated by the flavor of cumin (which is the main ingredient in chili powders). By contrast, the rice and beans are bland, but the fries were thick and tasty.

The fried bananas ($1.75 small, $2.50 large) are my recommendation for dessert, though the flan ($2) is fine, too. The spare salad ($2/$3.50) is not worth the cost. Other side items are garlic potatoes and fried yuca ($1.75/$3.50). And the meat sandwiches served with fries are a good deal ($4.95). The yellow Inca Cola ($1.15), kind of like a cream soda, is refreshing, even if the Peruvian product is now owned by Coca-Cola. Don't be put off by the potential for carb-loading here – just pick up some of the spicy meat and pair it with a healthy salad at home.

Exploring one of the area's small but growing number of ethnic markets is like an adventure into uncharted culinary territory. Even if you don't get double-coupons or a florist center as part of the deal, you'll find everything you need to inspire a home-cooked Spanish feast, or the option for cheap takeout, at La Nacional Hispano American Grocery.

The sound system is tuned to Spanish pop, and the produce aisles are filled with exotic green plantains, shiny brown yuccas and bright, pumpkin-orange calabaza squash. Head back to the deli for specials like roast chicken, rice, stewed beans, flan and a soda for $4.99.

The sound system is tuned to Spanish pop, and the produce aisles are filled with exotic green plantains, shiny brown yuccas and bright, pumpkin-orange calabaza squash. Head back to the deli for specials like roast chicken, rice, stewed beans, flan and a soda for $4.99.

Long rows of Cuban bread dough are laid out, waiting to be baked -- and you get a free loaf with every purchase of $20 or more.

For the last 10 years, I have been conducting a secret experiment: When traveling to other cities, I seek out Vietnamese restaurants to compare with the ones in Orlando. Unwittingly, restaurants in Seattle, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Atlanta, New York and Washington, D.C., have been put to the test, and not one of those exalted cities had anything – be it summer rolls, pho or syrupy-sweet coffee – as good as the eateries back home. And now there's a new contender in the Vietnamese paradise on that wonderful stretch of Colonial Drive near Mills Avenue: Lac-Viêt.

It was hard not to be a bit skeptical about Lac-Viêt, because I wasn't fond of Lemongrass Bistro, the last establishment to occupy the space that for years housed La Normandie. When we walked up to the door just after dusk and crossed under a welcoming gate with a cheerful entrance, I saw that the new occupants have more design sense than any of the previous ones.

The dining room has been opened up and made brighter, and it smelled like fresh bamboo and steeping lemongrass. I breathed a sigh of relief. The whole room felt altogether more pleasant than it ever had in the past. With sleek wooden chairs, a traditional Vietnamese instrument motif and depictions of Vietnamese scenery adorning the walls, a sense of style has taken the place of what is usually referred to as "character."

The food was the true test, and it passed with gold stars. We started with the old standby, garden rolls ($2.50), which were fresh and flavorful with plenty of sweet shrimp, basil and a sprinkling of fried shallot. The sweet potato shrimp cakes ($4) – a dish that was new to me – sounded alluring, so we tried those too. Starchy shreds of sweet potato mingled in a tasty batter and married well with fish sauce for dipping. Lotus salad ($9.95), a medley of tender white lotus shoots, fresh herbs and marinated pork with a garnish of fanned shrimp also was delicious. My favorite dish was the seasoned rare beef with tamarind juice ($8.95), served with crunchy shrimp chips and fresh cilantro. This creation was so moving that I am petitioning the city to start a Seasoned Rare Beef With Tamarind Juice Day.

The pho ($6.95) was outstanding. The one I chose had eye of round, brisket and soft tendon in an exotic, hearty beef broth with tantalizing seasonings – delicate cinnamon, a spark of star anise, the gentle heat of ginger, refreshing mint – toned down and made almost creamy by a large helping of cool rice noodles. The special vermicelli ($9.95) came with a heaping amount of grilled pork, spring rolls, shrimp paste and grilled beef, all absolutely delicious.

The meal was so exciting that we decided to go for dessert, something I rarely do at Vietnamese restaurants. Soon we were blissfully sipping our avocado fruit shake ($3) and pink jelly with coconut milk ($2.50), nodding agreeably at all the flavors we'd experienced. For days, I couldn't stop thinking about the vast menu and all I hadn't tried. So I went back two days later to test the seafood hot pot for two ($20.95) and the not-to-be-missed house specialty rice crepes ($7.95).

Orlando is now even further ahead of the rest in my quest to find the city with the very best Vietnamese cuisine.

One of my first international culinary trysts was with Mexican food. In Los Angeles, where I grew up, the lure of a taco stand was never farther away than a nearby side street. Even now, on cool, dry days when the sun is shining, I still crave the simplicity of marinated meat barely wrapped in the skin of a soft corn tortilla – eaten while standing, of course.

It took me years of testing and trying to discover this same joy in Florida and build up a cache of Mexican places I frequent. When I hear of a new Mexican place, I can't resist checking it out for myself – especially when the owners are Mexican and have a track record, as with Las Margaritas on Semoran Boulevard (aka State Road 436). It was opened in April by Javier Martinez, a man originally from Guadalajara who migrated to the United States at age 17. Although he never worked in the restaurant biz back in Mexico, he was sucked into the chaos of restaurant life after moving here, starting as a dishwasher and working his way up. He now owns three restaurants, two in Port St. Lucie and this new location. How could you not appreciate this man's dedication and hard work?

But how is the food? Most of it was OK – not as good as I wanted it to be and not quite good enough to live up to my favorite haunts. Still, if you're in the area, it's well worth a try.

This saffron-colored cottage is inviting on this otherwise desultory stretch of 436. With a plethora of neon signs lighting the windows, it reminds me of a colorful piñata about to burst at the seams. The first time I stepped inside I was shocked to find it so still and silent. My friends and I were the only patrons for the first third of our meal, which was somehow unsettling. I looked around the festive room at the empty wooden chairs engraved with white lilies. The room desperately needed people to complete the scene.

Las Margaritas claims to focus on food from Jalisco, a coastal region in the west of Mexico. Because of this, they offer more seafood dishes than your average Mexican joint. In fact, our fish and seafood selections were some of the best items we tried. Many of the shrimp dishes are gracefully seasoned and erupting with flavor, like the basic arroz con camaron ($10.95) – shrimp with rice. The subtly spiced marinade brought out the sweet, sharp taste in the delicate pink flesh, paired nicely with aromatic rice.

For a restaurant that opened with the intention of bringing authentic food to Orlando, they seem to have a lot of perfunctory Americanized selections – why bother with nachos and jalapeño poppers? Or cheeseburgers? And fajitas, although a tasty addition to Mexican-American repertoire, are definitely a Tex-Mex creation.

Among the dishes I wished I had skipped was the queso flameado ($3.75), which had both the taste and texture of Cheez Whiz, rather than billowy mounds of hot queso blanco.

A shredded beef taco ($2) came with a stale, hard corn tortilla and was disappointing. The beef was well-seasoned, but looked like something served in a school lunchroom – small grains of meat (and sometimes gristle) clung to each other in a shallow pool of grease. Enchiladas ($8.25) fared better, with shredded beef and real cheese. The mole that smothered this dish was flavorful, but slightly sweet, lacking the spiciness and acidity of a well-balanced dish. One of my friends got the pollo combo ($13.75), which came with garlic sautéed shrimp – the best part of the meal. Unfortunately, the chicken was dry. The refried beans were a tad mealy but full-flavored.

If you need a reason to go to Las Margaritas, it is to support a man who has worked hard to get where he is today. But don't fool yourself into thinking that this is the most authentic Mexican food available. It's just OK Mexican food served by someone who once ate authentic food on his home turf.

Got a fear of heights? Look elsewhere. Perched high atop Big Belly Brewery and Chillers is Latitudes, a cheesy-but-fun rooftop bar that boasts a bountiful happy-hour buffet and a beautiful view of -- the sides of other buildings. Even though the piped-in music mix is nearly as painful as a trip to the dentist -- everything under the sun (and moon) from Kiss to Boston to Ricky Martin -- you can still have a blast, especially in big groups, by commanding one of the large round tables and ordering trays full of drinks.

Sure, the endless staircase is a bitch, and the crowd is kinda former frat-house kooky, but the tropical touches, attentive staff and unique open-air ambience let the good times roll. -- Mark Padgett

Experience Central Florida's best-kept secret...the Black Hammock Adventures Complex and Lazy Gator Bar. We feature live music every weekend with indoor and outdoor seating on Lake Jessup. Scenic views, abundant wildlife and beautiful sunsets take place year-round. Airboat rides, free live gator exhibit and a full-service restaurant are also available.