Locations in Orlando

An interesting statistic: In the United States, the incidence of heart disease is almost four times higher than it is in Colombia. I mention this fact because when I opened the menu of Colombian dishes at Oh! Que Bueno, I swear I could hear my mother yelling, "If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll get sick!"

Housed in a small, nondescript fast-food makeover off fast-traveled South Semoran Boulevard, the family spot was formerly the Sunrise Restaurant, a schizophrenic endeavor that served omelets for breakfast, Chinese food for lunch and Vietnamese at dinner. No such confusion at O!QB ... the bill of fare is so constant it doesn't vary from morning to 10 p.m. close.

Housed in a small, nondescript fast-food makeover off fast-traveled South Semoran Boulevard, the family spot was formerly the Sunrise Restaurant, a schizophrenic endeavor that served omelets for breakfast, Chinese food for lunch and Vietnamese at dinner. No such confusion at O!QB ... the bill of fare is so constant it doesn't vary from morning to 10 p.m. close.

There's not a veggie among the listings of tipicos (traditional dishes), platos (combination plates) and bocaditos (appetizers; literally "little mouths"), unless you count corn, rice and red beans. Don't look for anything green. How do the fit and sound people of Colombia go through the day without their hearts attacking them? Maybe Mom was wrong and taste does count for something.

There's not a veggie among the listings of tipicos (traditional dishes), platos (combination plates) and bocaditos (appetizers; literally "little mouths"), unless you count corn, rice and red beans. Don't look for anything green. How do the fit and sound people of Colombia go through the day without their hearts attacking them? Maybe Mom was wrong and taste does count for something.

Take, as an example, the "bandeja campesina" ($9.95), a "farmers meal" that's half dinner, half breakfast. White rice, savory red beans, a thick link sausage and a large slice of fried pork skin (more like thick bacon than the crunchy snacks) join a typical morning repast of steak, fried eggs and corn cake. There's enough food to last most of the day, and each bit tasted as authentic as the presentation. And I tell a slight lie -- there was green in the form of a creamy slice of avocado.

Take, as an example, the "bandeja campesina" ($9.95), a "farmers meal" that's half dinner, half breakfast. White rice, savory red beans, a thick link sausage and a large slice of fried pork skin (more like thick bacon than the crunchy snacks) join a typical morning repast of steak, fried eggs and corn cake. There's enough food to last most of the day, and each bit tasted as authentic as the presentation. And I tell a slight lie -- there was green in the form of a creamy slice of avocado.

The "mariscos" menu offers fried red snapper (frozen rather than fresh), mojarra, a small tropical fish, and various shrimp dishes. I tried camarones al ajillo ($10.95) and was rewarded with several plump shrimp swimming in a garlic and butter sauce liberally spiced with cilantro and excellent when spooned over the rice. Green plantain fritters -- CD-sized disks of fried cooking bananas -- were surprisingly moist and tasted great dipped in the garlic.

The "mariscos" menu offers fried red snapper (frozen rather than fresh), mojarra, a small tropical fish, and various shrimp dishes. I tried camarones al ajillo ($10.95) and was rewarded with several plump shrimp swimming in a garlic and butter sauce liberally spiced with cilantro and excellent when spooned over the rice. Green plantain fritters -- CD-sized disks of fried cooking bananas -- were surprisingly moist and tasted great dipped in the garlic.

The bites of sweet plantains ($2) were fried almost to caramel without turning to mush, and a sugary delight. I have yet to really acquire a taste for arepas, the flat, grilled corn cakes that are like a thick tortilla and are served with everything from shredded beef to a slice of bland queso blanco, but they're available in all their permutations. A popular treat for carnivores is the morcilla black sausage ($2.50), like German blood sausage or English black pudding with a hot-pepper kick.

The bites of sweet plantains ($2) were fried almost to caramel without turning to mush, and a sugary delight. I have yet to really acquire a taste for arepas, the flat, grilled corn cakes that are like a thick tortilla and are served with everything from shredded beef to a slice of bland queso blanco, but they're available in all their permutations. A popular treat for carnivores is the morcilla black sausage ($2.50), like German blood sausage or English black pudding with a hot-pepper kick.

Service is polite and prompt, and protein fans will shout, "Oh! Que bueno!" for the ethnic cuisine.

A new version of the old Jax fifth Avenue, Ollie's still has a robust array of sandwiches, pita pizzas and salads, though you'll need to ask for your tableside jar of pickles (a Jax signature). Gone is the extensive beer menu, though there's enough here to sate any barfly's or sports fan's thirst. Grilling s'mores tableside can make for some interesting moments in a bar. Open daily until 2 a.m.

Teaser: A new version of the old Jax 5th Avenue, Ollie's still has a robust array of sandwiches, pita pizzas and salads, though you'll need to ask for your tableside jar of pickles (a Jax signature). Gone is the extensive beer menue, though there's enough here to slake any barfly's or sports fan's thirst. Grilling s'mores tableside can make for some interesting moments in a bar. Open daily until 2 a.m.

When you think of deep-fried squid, the word "beautiful" doesn't usually come to mind. But what we saw at Olympia Restaurant changed our minds. Sitting before us was a simple platter of what the Greek refer to as kalamari: a delicate, undulating tangle of generously carved squid steaks. They were lightly fried with a lacy batter and presented with lemon wedges, fried onions and peppers.

We could almost taste the Greek elements -- sunshine, earth and sea -- that inspired the food which kept coming out of the kitchen on the night we visited. While this restaurant is elegant in a gently worn way, the setting is decidedly humble on Colonial Drive, east of Goldenrod Road. Like a hardy olive tree that's rooted deep, Olympia Restaurant has been serving authentic Greek cuisine since 1979.

Although it's been nearly 40 years since the Vasiliadis family left Greece for America, they make regular pilgrimages back to the islands for culinary inspiration, from the tiniest fishing villages to the streets of Athens. Then they bring their impressions back to Orlando and work them into the menu, which is made up of old family recipes which have been tweaked through the years.

In addition to the kalamari ($6.95), we also had a feta saganaki appetizer ($5.95), which was a satisfying platter of steamy pita wedges arranged around a pot of warm dipping sauce, made of melted feta cheese, olives, pepperoncinis.

The "Hercules platter" ($13.95) is an easy way to sample the menu, featuring roast lamb and gyro meat. There also were dolmathes, marinated grape leaves wrapped around a stuffing of spiced beef, onions and rice, spanakopita, a delicate spinach pastry wrapped in flaky phyllo dough, and tsatsiki, a mild dipping sauce of yogurt, cucumbers and garlic. There also was a taste of moussaka, which my guest ordered as a full entree ($8.95). That's hearty but mild dish built of layers of sliced and fried potatoes on the bottom, fried eggplant and spicy ground beef in the middle, and a light, creamy béchamel sauce on top.

Our waitress was attentive and thorough, yet she gave us our space. This is a pleasant spot for a leisurely dining respite. And on Friday and Saturday nights, the setting includes traditional belly dancing shows at 9 p.m. and 10:30 p.m.

Take a peek at the "Steaks" heading in Orlando Weekly's 2004 edition of BITE, and you'll see that this town is up to here in steakhouses. From Linda's La Cantina, to Kres (you say steakhouse, they say chophouse, let's call that whole argument off), to Ruth's Chris, to Sam Seltzer's, to Vito's, if you can't find a big platter of beef with a side of garlic mashed potatoes within minutes of where you are right now, you're not really trying.

So why would yet another steakhouse venture into this already crowded field? Good question, and one I can't answer after a recent visit to Omaha SteakHouse.

So why would yet another steakhouse venture into this already crowded field? Good question, and one I can't answer after a recent visit to Omaha SteakHouse.

The first thing to know about the new kid on the block is that, yes, it is the restaurant manifestation of Omaha Steaks, the mail-order and retail meat folks. Getting a cooler full of cuts in the mail has always been kind of cool, and Omaha Steaks has a deserved reputation for their beef. They still claim it's their corn-fed cows that make for such good eating.

The first thing to know about the new kid on the block is that, yes, it is the restaurant manifestation of Omaha Steaks, the mail-order and retail meat folks. Getting a cooler full of cuts in the mail has always been kind of cool, and Omaha Steaks has a deserved reputation for their beef. They still claim it's their corn-fed cows that make for such good eating.

The second thing to know about the new kid on the block is that it is hard to find. There are only seven Omaha SteakHouses in the country so far, so you'd think they'd want a big, splashy location that screams "We're here!" But you'd be wrong. The restaurant is located in the Embassy Suites Orlando North, an outwardly generic (though inwardly posh) hotel set back from the gash of commerce that is Altamonte Drive east of I-4. I drove by it twice before finding it. Even when you find the Embassy Suites, there is precious little signage letting on that you've also found Omaha SteakHouse.

The second thing to know about the new kid on the block is that it is hard to find. There are only seven Omaha SteakHouses in the country so far, so you'd think they'd want a big, splashy location that screams "We're here!" But you'd be wrong. The restaurant is located in the Embassy Suites Orlando North, an outwardly generic (though inwardly posh) hotel set back from the gash of commerce that is Altamonte Drive east of I-4. I drove by it twice before finding it. Even when you find the Embassy Suites, there is precious little signage letting on that you've also found Omaha SteakHouse.

Maybe they were thinking that the beef is so good they can hide and still draw a crowd. But from my experience (and the fact that the place was almost empty), I'm thinking not.

Maybe they were thinking that the beef is so good they can hide and still draw a crowd. But from my experience (and the fact that the place was almost empty), I'm thinking not.

Don't get me wrong: The food was good to excellent, the service was low-key and impeccable, and the atmosphere was refined and relaxing. I could say the same, however, for almost every other steakhouse in Orlando.

Don't get me wrong: The food was good to excellent, the service was low-key and impeccable, and the atmosphere was refined and relaxing. I could say the same, however, for almost every other steakhouse in Orlando.

We started with the crab bisque ($4.95), which proved as smooth, savory and delicious as its burnt-orange hue suggested. That it came in a bowl big enough to serve as a washbasin only added to my enjoyment. Another appetizer, three-cheese quesadillas ($7.25), was generous enough to serve as a kids' meal.

We started with the crab bisque ($4.95), which proved as smooth, savory and delicious as its burnt-orange hue suggested. That it came in a bowl big enough to serve as a washbasin only added to my enjoyment. Another appetizer, three-cheese quesadillas ($7.25), was generous enough to serve as a kids' meal.

For entrees, we ordered up the Roquefort and chive encrusted top sirloin ($18.95), and the 7-ounce "private reserve" filet mignon ($23.95). The former was a touch dry, and I wouldn't exactly say it was "encrusted"; more like the Roquefort was plopped on top. Nonetheless, the cheese added needed moisture to the meat, complementing it beautifully. The filet, on the other hand, was fork tender and flavorful all on its own, a near-perfect cut.

For entrees, we ordered up the Roquefort and chive encrusted top sirloin ($18.95), and the 7-ounce "private reserve" filet mignon ($23.95). The former was a touch dry, and I wouldn't exactly say it was "encrusted"; more like the Roquefort was plopped on top. Nonetheless, the cheese added needed moisture to the meat, complementing it beautifully. The filet, on the other hand, was fork tender and flavorful all on its own, a near-perfect cut.

The sides were not as successful. I'd like to formally lodge a complaint against all steakhouses that charge $20-plus for a piece of meat and skimp on (or do away with) any vegetables on the plate. The steak-on-a-stark-white-plate aesthetic has had its day. At Omaha, your meat comes with a side of mashed potatoes that, in our case, came out cold and crying out for salt.

The sides were not as successful. I'd like to formally lodge a complaint against all steakhouses that charge $20-plus for a piece of meat and skimp on (or do away with) any vegetables on the plate. The steak-on-a-stark-white-plate aesthetic has had its day. At Omaha, your meat comes with a side of mashed potatoes that, in our case, came out cold and crying out for salt.

I only ate half my steak in order to save room for dessert, and frankly I've had none finer that I can recall. Omaha's "big New Yorker cheesecake" ($6.95) was worth the trip itself; fluffy and dense at the same time, the epitome of New York-style cheesecake.

I only ate half my steak in order to save room for dessert, and frankly I've had none finer that I can recall. Omaha's "big New Yorker cheesecake" ($6.95) was worth the trip itself; fluffy and dense at the same time, the epitome of New York-style cheesecake.

Perhaps we are so Atkins crazed that any steakhouse is a guaranteed success these days. But I have to say that I left Omaha SteakHouse thinking they have a struggle ahead of them to make it in this market. Step No. 1: Get yourself a bigger sign.

The famous boar's head and the very loud sounds emanating from the open door are the signs you've arrived at this sawdust-strewn tavern, which hosts acoustic rock and folk acts throughout the week.
Teaser: One Eyed Jack's and its neighbor, the Loaded Hog, are cut from the same cloth ' a heavy-drinking, loud-music kind of fabric that makes you want to stay up way too late and gives you a pounding headache the next morning ' in a good way.

The wilds of east Orlando, almost to the edge of civilization where Colonial Drive intersects Alafaya Trail, is not an area that immediately springs to mind for those on the hunt for good sushi; burgers, steakhouses, Wal-Mart and used-car lots, yes. Sushi, not so much.

Tucked away in the Alafaya Commons Plaza, a few stores west of the Publix, is Origami Sushi, an island of hip serenity in a vast sea of suburbia. Outside it looks like every other store in the strip mall. Inside the walls are painted soothing tones of muted, dusky green and burnt orange, the lighting is toned down and there are Japanese screen prints on the walls. Think funky minimalism and you'll get an appropriate mental picture.

Tucked away in the Alafaya Commons Plaza, a few stores west of the Publix, is Origami Sushi, an island of hip serenity in a vast sea of suburbia. Outside it looks like every other store in the strip mall. Inside the walls are painted soothing tones of muted, dusky green and burnt orange, the lighting is toned down and there are Japanese screen prints on the walls. Think funky minimalism and you'll get an appropriate mental picture.

Added bonus: The sushi's good, too.

Added bonus: The sushi's good, too.

Many factors go into a memorable sushi experience, but when the discussion is limited to the food, what counts is the quality and cut of the fish, the consistency and taste of the rice, and the presentation. Origami gets all three right.

Many factors go into a memorable sushi experience, but when the discussion is limited to the food, what counts is the quality and cut of the fish, the consistency and taste of the rice, and the presentation. Origami gets all three right.

Maguro (tuna, $3.95) and sake (salmon, $3.95) sushi came from the bar on a proper geta (a small wooden block used as a plate), each piece an identically formed ball of rice topped with, but not covered by, a slice of fish. Report card: "A" for presentation.

Maguro (tuna, $3.95) and sake (salmon, $3.95) sushi came from the bar on a proper geta (a small wooden block used as a plate), each piece an identically formed ball of rice topped with, but not covered by, a slice of fish. Report card: "A" for presentation.

With the exception of squid, which will take a few chomps, sushi fish should melt in your mouth, no chewing necessary. Both the tuna and the salmon dissolved without much additional help. That's the mark of sushi-quality, correctly cut fish. Report card: "A" for fish.

With the exception of squid, which will take a few chomps, sushi fish should melt in your mouth, no chewing necessary. Both the tuna and the salmon dissolved without much additional help. That's the mark of sushi-quality, correctly cut fish. Report card: "A" for fish.

Sushi rice is itself a deceptive art form -- how hard can it be to make vinegared rice? Very, judging by the lumpy, starchy version common in sushi restaurants. Origami's rice was another story; slightly sweet, it held together when handled with chopsticks (you're supposed to dip your sushi into the soy sauce fish-side down, you know), yet retained its granularity. Report card: "A" for nice rice.

Sushi rice is itself a deceptive art form -- how hard can it be to make vinegared rice? Very, judging by the lumpy, starchy version common in sushi restaurants. Origami's rice was another story; slightly sweet, it held together when handled with chopsticks (you're supposed to dip your sushi into the soy sauce fish-side down, you know), yet retained its granularity. Report card: "A" for nice rice.

The rolls (maki) were less of a success. I tried a "New Orleans roll" ($6.95) that was a mixture of crab salad, scallions, avocado and spicy mayonnaise, and found it interesting, if a bit heavy due to the mayonnaise.

The rolls (maki) were less of a success. I tried a "New Orleans roll" ($6.95) that was a mixture of crab salad, scallions, avocado and spicy mayonnaise, and found it interesting, if a bit heavy due to the mayonnaise.

Then there are the "special" rolls. Sushi purists probably wouldn't order them anyway, dismissing them as a Western bastardization of Japanese cooking, but I gave it a shot for the sake of diversity. The "heaven roll" ($9.95) crammed just about everything in the kitchen (salmon, tuna, asparagus, cream cheese and flying fish eggs) into a roll, batter fried (tempura) the result, and served it up sliced on the diagonal. Again, the adjective that comes to mind is "interesting" or perhaps "filling." I wouldn't exactly call it "tasty."

Then there are the "special" rolls. Sushi purists probably wouldn't order them anyway, dismissing them as a Western bastardization of Japanese cooking, but I gave it a shot for the sake of diversity. The "heaven roll" ($9.95) crammed just about everything in the kitchen (salmon, tuna, asparagus, cream cheese and flying fish eggs) into a roll, batter fried (tempura) the result, and served it up sliced on the diagonal. Again, the adjective that comes to mind is "interesting" or perhaps "filling." I wouldn't exactly call it "tasty."

Appetizers were also hit-and-miss. The batter on both the chicken ($3.95) and vegetable ($3.50) tempura was crunchy, light and perfect. But a deep-fried soft-shell crab ($6.95) came to the table greasy on the outside and cold on the inside -- a disappointment at the price.

Appetizers were also hit-and-miss. The batter on both the chicken ($3.95) and vegetable ($3.50) tempura was crunchy, light and perfect. But a deep-fried soft-shell crab ($6.95) came to the table greasy on the outside and cold on the inside -- a disappointment at the price.

Service throughout the meal was attentive but not bothersome, in keeping with the low-key atmosphere. The clientele was young, indicating that the University of Central Florida crowd has found the place. Perhaps the far-out location was a shrewd business move after all.

Over 35 different organic beers available for takeout in bottles, cans, growlers and kegs.

Cold beer, good food, and fun, fun, fun.

Combination lunch-and-dinner restaurant with weekend entertainment shows, stand-up comedy, bands and other live arts performances.

For all the mediocrity wreaked by line-up-to-the-trough Chinese buffets with gloppy sweet-and-sour sauces and soggy takeout containers, spanking new P.F. Chang's China Bistro stands in stark contrast.

Enter the eye-popping, postmodern interior of the high-profile debut of this restaurant chain at the still-developing Winter Park Village, and you'll think you've fallen through a pan-Asian rabbit hole. This is a world of silky Chinese murals, Ming-style vases, stacked-stone walls, a bustling show kitchen and pumped-up music.

Enter the eye-popping, postmodern interior of the high-profile debut of this restaurant chain at the still-developing Winter Park Village, and you'll think you've fallen through a pan-Asian rabbit hole. This is a world of silky Chinese murals, Ming-style vases, stacked-stone walls, a bustling show kitchen and pumped-up music.

But it's the consistently enjoyable menu that will lure you back -- and you'll have lots of company, too. We stumbled into a one-hour wait for a table on a Saturday night. As for a seat at the bar? Forget it. We settled for standing with the rest of the herd, and while we sipped a glass of house Chardonnay, we spied the captain's tables at the perimeter of the kitchen. These are the only two tables in the house for which reservations are accepted. It was fun to watch as a tag team of waiters brought platters of glistening delicacies.

But it's the consistently enjoyable menu that will lure you back -- and you'll have lots of company, too. We stumbled into a one-hour wait for a table on a Saturday night. As for a seat at the bar? Forget it. We settled for standing with the rest of the herd, and while we sipped a glass of house Chardonnay, we spied the captain's tables at the perimeter of the kitchen. These are the only two tables in the house for which reservations are accepted. It was fun to watch as a tag team of waiters brought platters of glistening delicacies.

When our turn finally came, General Tso and his chickens were nowhere to be found on the innovative menu. Instead, we tried and loved the weirdly wonderful "Chang's chicken in soothing lettuce wraps" ($5.95). Spicy chicken and vegetables were folded into watery iceberg leaves, burrito style. The spiciness was heightened by a spoonful of mustard-based sauce, which was prepared tableside by our waiter. "Pan-fried Peking dumplings" ($4.95) were a savory counterpart, stuffed with pork and vegetables.

When our turn finally came, General Tso and his chickens were nowhere to be found on the innovative menu. Instead, we tried and loved the weirdly wonderful "Chang's chicken in soothing lettuce wraps" ($5.95). Spicy chicken and vegetables were folded into watery iceberg leaves, burrito style. The spiciness was heightened by a spoonful of mustard-based sauce, which was prepared tableside by our waiter. "Pan-fried Peking dumplings" ($4.95) were a savory counterpart, stuffed with pork and vegetables.

"Mu shu chicken" ($8.95) was light and crisp, stirred with vegetables that crunched. A delicate hoisin sauce added plummy accents. The sweet, meaty mixture was wrapped in pancakes as thin as crepes. Crispy honey shrimp ($12.95) were plentiful, lightly battered and quick-fried.

"Mu shu chicken" ($8.95) was light and crisp, stirred with vegetables that crunched. A delicate hoisin sauce added plummy accents. The sweet, meaty mixture was wrapped in pancakes as thin as crepes. Crispy honey shrimp ($12.95) were plentiful, lightly battered and quick-fried.

All of the servers were well-trained and forthcoming with smart suggestions, despite being overtaxed by the volume of customers. Our waiter steered us in the right direction again and again, including his favorite, "macadamia nut pie" ($4.95), which became our favorite, too. This is a piece of glorified chocolate turtle pie with macadamia nuggets adding interest.

All of the servers were well-trained and forthcoming with smart suggestions, despite being overtaxed by the volume of customers. Our waiter steered us in the right direction again and again, including his favorite, "macadamia nut pie" ($4.95), which became our favorite, too. This is a piece of glorified chocolate turtle pie with macadamia nuggets adding interest.

P.F. Chang's China Bistro injects excitement into the Chinese dining milieu. It's a pleasure to experience the chic trappings and sophisticated service that are taken for granted with other cuisines.

Paddy McGee's, which is located in the beautiful city of Winter Park, prides itself on upholding Irish tradition with an American flair. Once you experience Paddy McGee's, you will realize why it is referred to as "your neighborhood bar."

At some point in any discussion of the new Palm Restaurant at the Hard Rock Hotel, the 75-year history of the original and its 22 other branches are bound to come up.

Yes, the first Palm, circa 1926, was opened in New York as a Northern Italian restaurant, and, yes, the corporation is still run by descendants of the original owners. It's impressive that the business is still thriving, but I want to be wowed by the food, not the resume.

Yes, the first Palm, circa 1926, was opened in New York as a Northern Italian restaurant, and, yes, the corporation is still run by descendants of the original owners. It's impressive that the business is still thriving, but I want to be wowed by the food, not the resume.

Notwithstanding the celebrity caricatures stenciled seemingly everywhere on the walls, Palm describes itself as a "white tablecloth restaurant." What goes on the tablecloth is a mixture of fine, uncomplicated dishes and slight near-misses. Try the "Monday night salad" ($8.50) to start. The name came from whatever was left over from Sunday getting finely chopped and served on Monday, and it's a great blend of tomato, ancho-vies, pimentos and greens in a perfect balsamic dressing. Save some bread for spreading.

Among the appetizers, a sampler combo of "shrimp Bruno" and crab cake ($12, but not listed on the menu) was not as successful: The plentiful serving of sweet lump crab was way too loose to qualify as a cake. As for the breaded fried shrimp served with mustard sauce, I liked the shrimp and the sauce but could have done without the breading.

Among the appetizers, a sampler combo of "shrimp Bruno" and crab cake ($12, but not listed on the menu) was not as successful: The plentiful serving of sweet lump crab was way too loose to qualify as a cake. As for the breaded fried shrimp served with mustard sauce, I liked the shrimp and the sauce but could have done without the breading.

In a day when chefs like to layer flavor upon flavor until it's impossible to tell what you're eating, Palm sticks to simple combinations. The mackerel ($30) -- one of that night's specials -- came sitting atop a smooth and subtle lobster velouté sauce and dressed with spicy fresh tomato and cilantro salsa. The fish was moist and mild, perhaps seconds from being overcooked but certainly enjoyable.

In a day when chefs like to layer flavor upon flavor until it's impossible to tell what you're eating, Palm sticks to simple combinations. The mackerel ($30) -- one of that night's specials -- came sitting atop a smooth and subtle lobster velouté sauce and dressed with spicy fresh tomato and cilantro salsa. The fish was moist and mild, perhaps seconds from being overcooked but certainly enjoyable.

If you like a good cut of meat, Palm is up there with the best. The double-cut lamb chops ($29) are done to perfection and, like everything else, come in a very large serving. Steaks are enormous and, with true New York daring, are served with a side of Hollandaise.

If you like a good cut of meat, Palm is up there with the best. The double-cut lamb chops ($29) are done to perfection and, like everything else, come in a very large serving. Steaks are enormous and, with true New York daring, are served with a side of Hollandaise.

This isn't the most expensive place in town, but it ain't cheap either. Entrees can run up to $60 for the 36-ounce New York strip "double steak," designed to serve two, and side veggies are priced separately.

The original Palm always had a reputation for waiters with attitude; although efficient at bringing your dinner, they weren't always happy about it. I don't know if that's still true in New York. But service people at Palm Orlando are quick, pleasant and well trained, with a level of casualness that is more friendly than intrusive. And in a break from standard Universal fare, free valet parking is right at the door. Don't be put off by the rock-memorabilia theme of the hotel environs; the Palm's well-prepared food is worth checking into.

There are still times when you can feel the flavor of old Park Avenue. One is in the civilized morning hours, when parking spaces are plentiful and the aroma of fresh coffee is strong enough to follow into Palmano's Espresso Bar

This "coffee roastery" owned by Richard and Teresa Palmano sits in the back of the complex that fronts the avenue, in the same block as Park Plaza Gardens. (Look for the shoe-shine stand.) The classy storefront spreads onto a breezeway, where ceiling fans kick up the air, tables and chairs are invitingly arranged, and people mingle.

This "coffee roastery" owned by Richard and Teresa Palmano sits in the back of the complex that fronts the avenue, in the same block as Park Plaza Gardens. (Look for the shoe-shine stand.) The classy storefront spreads onto a breezeway, where ceiling fans kick up the air, tables and chairs are invitingly arranged, and people mingle.

Oh, and the coffee -- it's meticulously fresh-roasted and packaged by the bean (starting at $9.75 per pound) or by the cup; the basics are covered, with specialties such as the summer-friendly "café mocha frost." The raisin-pear scone by Old Hearth Bakery was an added old-school charm.

The overwhelming smell of garlic, the barely-20-something staff and the fluorescent glow coming from Panino's Pizza and Grill, on the corner of Orange Avenue and Pine Street, suggests just another pizza joint with faux'New York slices and soggy wings. Not so. With more than 14 by-the-slice variations and many others available in whole-pie form, it's easy to be enchanted. From their loaded seafood pizza teeming with calamari, shrimp, baby clams, mussels and tuna ($18.95 for a large), to the rich and cheesy chicken cordon bleu version slathered with white garlic sauce and pancetta ($3.90 for a slice) there's a pie for every preference. The multitude of bankers and court reporters that flood in around lunchtime and the partiers and bike-hipsters who trickle in for a midnight snack don't fear the wings, either. The morsels ($6.95 for 10) arrive gloriously hot, slightly crispy, garlicky and bathed in the appropriate amount of Frank's RedHot sauce. Open until 5 a.m., Panino's is one of the few choices in Orlando for late-late-night grub, a perk for a city with night life but very little night food that doesn't involve pancakes. After hitting the bars, order a Phillyboli ($7.25), a stromboli-esque pocket of folded dough filled with cheese, steak, sautéed onions and peppers. The only downside: It's served with marinara sauce instead of something more appropriate, like jus or mustard or even horseradish mayo. If you want to keep drinking, the specials at Panino's rival those of any Church Street hotspot. Draft beers are $2 every day, all day (Bud Light, Budweiser American Ale and Miller Lite are all on tap); order a slice and get a draft beer for $1. Or order two and get a draft beer free. It doesn't get much better on steamy Orange Avenue nights. dining@orlandoweekly.com

It would be easy for passersby to miss Park Ave. Pizza & Italian Restaurant, as its facade is a simple storefront amid all the pomp of Winter Park. Don't expect much better on the inside of this modest and very casual eatery. There are about five tables covered in plastic tablecloths, and the dining space is small, with a takeout counter and soda dispenser on one end. The delivery guy did double duty as our server, and the departure from the typical aloofness of the Winter Park waiters was refreshing.

I began my meal with fried calamari ($6.50). They were served in a basket with marinara sauce and were curiously all the same size, indicating their swim had taken them only from the freezer to the fryer. Chewy and overcooked, they resembled fried rubberbands. The Greek salad ($5.95) was large and had fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, black olives and feta cheese. The only problem was that there was no Greek dressing to be had, so my choices were of the salad-bar variety and thus a little disappointing.

I began my meal with fried calamari ($6.50). They were served in a basket with marinara sauce and were curiously all the same size, indicating their swim had taken them only from the freezer to the fryer. Chewy and overcooked, they resembled fried rubberbands. The Greek salad ($5.95) was large and had fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, black olives and feta cheese. The only problem was that there was no Greek dressing to be had, so my choices were of the salad-bar variety and thus a little disappointing.

But people don't come here for the salad or the appetizers; they come for the pizza. It's sold by the slice ($2-$3.75) or by the pie ($7-$27.50), and there is something on the menu for every pizza craving. We had the small, 12-inch cheese pizza with pepperoni, olives and mushrooms. The dough was hand-tossed by the owner/chef right before our eyes, so we knew it was fresh and authentic. The taste only verified this. The pizza had been baked perfectly, and the crust was a golden brown. Judging by the general inhaling of pizza going on around us, every pizza prepared is of equal quality and possesses the same great flavor.

But people don't come here for the salad or the appetizers; they come for the pizza. It's sold by the slice ($2-$3.75) or by the pie ($7-$27.50), and there is something on the menu for every pizza craving. We had the small, 12-inch cheese pizza with pepperoni, olives and mushrooms. The dough was hand-tossed by the owner/chef right before our eyes, so we knew it was fresh and authentic. The taste only verified this. The pizza had been baked perfectly, and the crust was a golden brown. Judging by the general inhaling of pizza going on around us, every pizza prepared is of equal quality and possesses the same great flavor.

The baked ziti ($7) was truly delicious. The large portion came smothered in mozzarella. The sauce was tangy, full of tomatoes and mixed with ricotta cheese. This dish would have been perfect had the ziti noodles been prepared al dente, as opposed to overcooked.

The baked ziti ($7) was truly delicious. The large portion came smothered in mozzarella. The sauce was tangy, full of tomatoes and mixed with ricotta cheese. This dish would have been perfect had the ziti noodles been prepared al dente, as opposed to overcooked.

Some Winter Parkians might be horrified at not having 10 choices of waters and at the thought of having to get their own refills. But the no-frills Park Ave. Pizza is first and foremost a pizza joint, and a good one. You can eat in, take it out or have them deliver. If you dine in, you'll get to absorb the family atmosphere and possibly catch a rerun of Friends or Seinfeld on one of the large TVs. The husband and wife who recently opened this restaurant are not concerned with decor or with the patrons overhearing them call for the delivery guy in two languages; they are concerned with making a wonderful pizza. The down-to-earth, low-key style is a nice addition to Park Avenue's predictability.

I had a hard time pinning down what kind of food it is namesake chef Justin Plank turns out of the kitchen of this renamed venture in a tenured Park Avenue location, so I went to the restaurant's website and came up with this gem: "New Euro Florida cuisine with a retro flair led by Mediterranean flavors with a slight Pan-Asian influence." In other words, they're not really sure what they're cooking either. had a hard time pinning down what kind of food it is namesake chef Justin Plank turns out of the kitchen of this renamed venture in a tenured Park Avenue location, so I went to the restaurant's website and came up with this gem: "New Euro Florida cuisine with a retro flair led by Mediterranean flavors with a slight Pan-Asian influence." In other words, they're not really sure what they're cooking either.

The line sounds like description by committee, or a new stab at reviving the "fusion" label, and it does a disservice to what Park Plaza is about: reliably good, innovative dishes served with style and flair in an atmosphere that does justice to the Park Avenue address. The place has casual-yet-refined feel to it; you can hang out on the sidewalk café and watch the poseurs pass by, you can take a seat at the renovated bar, or you can sit down for a full meal and enjoy the outdoors-indoors feel of the patio/restaurant. That's not trendy, it's just cool.

The line sounds like description by committee, or a new stab at reviving the "fusion" label, and it does a disservice to what Park Plaza is about: reliably good, innovative dishes served with style and flair in an atmosphere that does justice to the Park Avenue address. The place has casual-yet-refined feel to it; you can hang out on the sidewalk café and watch the poseurs pass by, you can take a seat at the renovated bar, or you can sit down for a full meal and enjoy the outdoors-indoors feel of the patio/restaurant. That's not trendy, it's just cool.

We went for the full-meal treatment, kicking it off with "Chef Justin's risotto" ($9), an appetizer easily big enough for two that featured cubes of roast duck and mango. While the duck was cut too small to add much to the dish, the mango imparted a sweetness that proved an excellent complement to the texture of the risotto. Another appetizer, "The Plaza wedge" ($7), was just as ambitious, if less successful. It turned out to be a hunk of iceberg lettuce topped with Gouda cheese, a slice of prosciutto and cherry tomatoes in herbed balsamic vinaigrette. Iceberg lettuce is always a problem at this price point, and the vinaigrette was too sweet. On the other hand, I'll sing the praises of "Chef Justin's five onion soup" ($6) to the rafters; it may well be the best bowl of onion soup on the planet. This hearty, intoxicating mixture of red, green and yellow onions, shallots and chives, topped with provolone, is the antidote for anyone who thinks onion soup has to be a thin, salty broth with slivers of white onions and bread cubes floating around in it.

We went for the full-meal treatment, kicking it off with "Chef Justin's risotto" ($9), an appetizer easily big enough for two that featured cubes of roast duck and mango. While the duck was cut too small to add much to the dish, the mango imparted a sweetness that proved an excellent complement to the texture of the risotto. Another appetizer, "The Plaza wedge" ($7), was just as ambitious, if less successful. It turned out to be a hunk of iceberg lettuce topped with Gouda cheese, a slice of prosciutto and cherry tomatoes in herbed balsamic vinaigrette. Iceberg lettuce is always a problem at this price point, and the vinaigrette was too sweet. On the other hand, I'll sing the praises of "Chef Justin's five onion soup" ($6) to the rafters; it may well be the best bowl of onion soup on the planet. This hearty, intoxicating mixture of red, green and yellow onions, shallots and chives, topped with provolone, is the antidote for anyone who thinks onion soup has to be a thin, salty broth with slivers of white onions and bread cubes floating around in it.

When the entrées came, I was a bit reluctant to dig in to mine – an herb-crusted roast pork tenderloin on a bed of root vegetables ($26) – because it looked so darn pretty arranged just so and topped with a hibiscus bud. It proved as good as it looked; the pork was as tender as quality beef with an infused smoky sweetness. The sauce also picked up sweetness and texture from the cranberries and cashews, and overall the dish was polished and satisfying.

When the entrées came, I was a bit reluctant to dig in to mine – an herb-crusted roast pork tenderloin on a bed of root vegetables ($26) – because it looked so darn pretty arranged just so and topped with a hibiscus bud. It proved as good as it looked; the pork was as tender as quality beef with an infused smoky sweetness. The sauce also picked up sweetness and texture from the cranberries and cashews, and overall the dish was polished and satisfying.

A seafood bouillabaisse ($36) came to the table looking every bit as gorgeous, filled as it was with mussels, giant prawns, clams, fish and half a Maine lobster tail. I had high expectations, given the price, and was a bit disappointed. The lobster and prawns were grilled before being added and were a touch dry, while the clams and mussels did get a chance to stew in the juices and benefited from it. The stock was hearty and fishy, with a subtle curry flavor Chef Justin himself attributes to his use of star anise and Pernod. The trouble was that the spicing just didn't seem to make its way into the larger chunks of seafood.

A seafood bouillabaisse ($36) came to the table looking every bit as gorgeous, filled as it was with mussels, giant prawns, clams, fish and half a Maine lobster tail. I had high expectations, given the price, and was a bit disappointed. The lobster and prawns were grilled before being added and were a touch dry, while the clams and mussels did get a chance to stew in the juices and benefited from it. The stock was hearty and fishy, with a subtle curry flavor Chef Justin himself attributes to his use of star anise and Pernod. The trouble was that the spicing just didn't seem to make its way into the larger chunks of seafood.

Service was courteous to a fault, attentive without being annoying, in keeping with the Continental atmosphere of the restaurant. But overall the experience felt pricey. When entrees get into the $30 range, they'd better be something to burst into song about. Chef Justin's Park Plaza Gardens had me humming a tune, but not quite ready to dance on the tables.

We arrived early for dinner -- about 5 p.m. -- at Passage to India, and although the restaurant was virtually empty of customers, we still had a sense of the countless people who have enjoyed meals within its four walls. The foyer was studded with framed photographs of celebrity regulars. We spotted one of Shaquille O'Neal, but another photo looked like Julio Iglesias as a famous cricket player.

For more than a decade, Passage to India has held fast to its reputation for fine Indian dining on International Drive. While it draws its share of locals, tourist business accounts significantly for its success.

Proprietor Uday Kadam has created a selection of classic Indian dishes that are, as the menu reads, "rich but not fatty, spicy but not hot." We found that to be the case with the appetizer platter ($8.95), which is a reasonably priced way to investigate the spices and textures of Indian cuisine: juicy chicken tikka tenders roasted in spicy yogurt sauce, flaky samosa pastries stuffed with peas and potatoes, crunchy pakora vegetable fritters and the more spicy, deep-fried bhaji onions.

Vegetarians will have a heyday with more than a dozen vegetable-based dishes. We absolutely loved palak sabji dal ($12.95), a sautéed mixture of spinach and eggplant in a deep, dark, tomato-based sauce. The other half of the menu is represented by chicken, lamb and seafood. All dinners are served with all-you-can-eat helpings of fluffy, oven-baked basmati rice, which is perfumed with hints of cumin, cinnamon and cloves.

Chicken korma ($15.95) was a creamy, curry dish that was prepared in an extremely mild version; the heat level barely registered. So if you prefer more formidable renditions, be specific with the waiter in advance. Lamb palak ($18.95) was more recommendable with its delicious sauce of ginger and garlic, and accented with sautéed onions and spinach.

The dining room affords a sense of intimacy, and it is formally appointed with mahogany and ruby-red details that evoke images of Bombay and the days of the British empire. Service was poised and graceful, but not affected. We felt welcomed from the beginning to the end of our dinner. Passage to India is a haven for those who want to explore the nuances of Indian cuisine in an upscale setting.