Locations in Orlando

At first glance, a gay-owned business in the heart of Parramore may seem as incongruous as an Idaho senator in a Minneapolis airport bathroom, but not so in Buddy Dyer’s vision of the new Parramore. Here a pinch of city money, a dash of diversity and a whole lotta poured concrete is a recipe for urban renewal.

While Stonewall Bistro’s drab gray edifice is reminiscent of a gun shop, the inside is suggestive of a laid-back neighborhood bar complete with pool table, dart boards and an antique wine press that’s quite the conversation piece. It’s a casual vibe, made all the more so by motel lobby furniture and a menu of standard pub fare. Named after co-owner Rob Weigle, “Rob’s fabulous roast beef on rye sandwich” ($7.95) is jacked with horseradish and chive havarti, while the cheeseburger ($5.45), though not stellar, makes for a benign nosh. French fries top soggy beer-battered onion rings. If the excellent cheesecake made by Winter Garden’s Sweet Guys is available, go for it.

The bistro’s moniker refers to 1969’s Stonewall Rebellion, when gays and lesbians resisted a police raid on the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village. Given co-owner Steve Watkins’ affability, you can pretty much rule out any rioting here – unless a fight breaks out over the last piece of divine chocolate-chip cookie-dough cheesecake.

(Stonewall Bistro, 741 W. Church St.; 407- 373-0888)

Picture this: A smart-looking grill and tavern at Heathrow, part of an up-and-coming chain founded by a couple of Darden Restaurants refugees. We thought we knew the drill: big brews, plenty of animal protein and a menu that tastes like it was prepared by bookkeepers from corporate headquarters.

But we really loved Stonewood Tavern and Grill, and so does the neighborhood, even though the place has been open less than a month. Stonewood has become an instant player in the Lake Mary/Heathrow area. Part of its allure is the rustic elegance: The tavern and dining area are pulled together by stacked stone walls, rich wood tables and high-backed booths so plush you could take a nap in them. (And the jeans-clad waiters are so friendly, they probably wouldn't mind.) Lighting design adds to the feng shui; recessed into high ceilings, the lights illuminate the walkways, with a subtle spotlight aimed at the center of each table. The focus is on the meat lover's menu, highlighted by the many offerings that are smoked over an oak-wood grill.

But we really loved Stonewood Tavern and Grill, and so does the neighborhood, even though the place has been open less than a month. Stonewood has become an instant player in the Lake Mary/Heathrow area. Part of its allure is the rustic elegance: The tavern and dining area are pulled together by stacked stone walls, rich wood tables and high-backed booths so plush you could take a nap in them. (And the jeans-clad waiters are so friendly, they probably wouldn't mind.) Lighting design adds to the feng shui; recessed into high ceilings, the lights illuminate the walkways, with a subtle spotlight aimed at the center of each table. The focus is on the meat lover's menu, highlighted by the many offerings that are smoked over an oak-wood grill.

From the start it was clear that our attempts to have a linear conversation would be useless: Every time a fresh wave of handiwork arrived from the kitchen, we forgot whatever it was we were talking about.

From the start it was clear that our attempts to have a linear conversation would be useless: Every time a fresh wave of handiwork arrived from the kitchen, we forgot whatever it was we were talking about.

The "oak-grilled shrimp" appetizer ($7.45) is well worth the splurge; the bright-pink crustaceans were succulently steeped in tempting woodsy aromas, and they were excellent when dipped in the avocado-basil sauce. Attention also must be paid to "walla walla" fried onions ($5.95), which were jumbo onion sticks dipped in buttermilk batter, fried to a greaseless crisp and served with red-pepper sauce.

The "oak-grilled shrimp" appetizer ($7.45) is well worth the splurge; the bright-pink crustaceans were succulently steeped in tempting woodsy aromas, and they were excellent when dipped in the avocado-basil sauce. Attention also must be paid to "walla walla" fried onions ($5.95), which were jumbo onion sticks dipped in buttermilk batter, fried to a greaseless crisp and served with red-pepper sauce.

For an entree, you could fork over a bundle for the lamb chops ($19.95) encrusted with herbs or the "Pacific cliffs salmon" ($16.95) coated with almonds and brandied blueberry compote. But the sandwiches are excellent, too, and they come with heaps of fries. Or try the pan-seared grouper with ginger-wasabi mayonnaise ($8.45).

For an entree, you could fork over a bundle for the lamb chops ($19.95) encrusted with herbs or the "Pacific cliffs salmon" ($16.95) coated with almonds and brandied blueberry compote. But the sandwiches are excellent, too, and they come with heaps of fries. Or try the pan-seared grouper with ginger-wasabi mayonnaise ($8.45).

The tender and juicy "pork Adirondack" ($15.95), a tenderloin sautéed in white-wine mushroom sauce, is about as good as pork gets. And although it doesn't quite qualify as truly great, the scorching New York strip steak ($20.95) was still a source of pleasure. The prime-grade cut of beef was dry aged and sizzled with a bit of butter.

The tender and juicy "pork Adirondack" ($15.95), a tenderloin sautéed in white-wine mushroom sauce, is about as good as pork gets. And although it doesn't quite qualify as truly great, the scorching New York strip steak ($20.95) was still a source of pleasure. The prime-grade cut of beef was dry aged and sizzled with a bit of butter.

Service was great and collaborative; the whole team knew what they were doing, with the exception of a baked potato that arrived with the works on top, not on the side as requested.

Service was great and collaborative; the whole team knew what they were doing, with the exception of a baked potato that arrived with the works on top, not on the side as requested.

For a new entry, Stonewood carries the smell of success.

If there's one thing you don't want to smell when you're in a seafood restaurant, it's fish. Straub's Seafood in Altamonte Springs passed the sniff test on a recent visit. The longtime popular favorite also impressed us with outstanding service despite some glitches behind the scenes. The broiler was on the fritz on this particular Saturday night. Since many entrees are normally available broiled, this could have been a major problem. But our waitress handled the situation with aplomb and improvised by steering us toward menu items that could be baked, fried or mesquite-grilled instead.

The bread basket is so good that it competes with the appetizers. We were far less interested in the escargot ($6.95) than we were in sopping up the garlic-butter broth with our hot, oily, herb-crusted rolls. And the shrimp Rockefeller ($6.95) were topped with a heavy mixture of spinach and Monterey Jack cheese -- a little too heavy, but then that might have been due to being baked rather than broiled.

The bread basket is so good that it competes with the appetizers. We were far less interested in the escargot ($6.95) than we were in sopping up the garlic-butter broth with our hot, oily, herb-crusted rolls. And the shrimp Rockefeller ($6.95) were topped with a heavy mixture of spinach and Monterey Jack cheese -- a little too heavy, but then that might have been due to being baked rather than broiled.

When it came to choosing dinner, the menu was almost as helpful as our waitress. It details the flavors and textures of 28 kinds of fresh fish, from Boston scrod to Carolina rainbow trout. We chose Florida black grouper ($15.95), a premium variety which is not to be confused with blackened grouper. It was quickly seared on a mesquite grill, which sealed in the sweet flavors and maintained the firm texture. And although the "captain's platter" is a bit pricey ($21.95), it's a good way to sample two highlights: Steamed Florida lobster tail and mesquite grilled shrimp on a skewer. Both were superb. The platter normally comes with broiled scallops, so we substituted some crunchy, fried Ipswich clam strips. As far as we were concerned, you could skip all of the side items except one: The cole slaw was very creamy yet amazingly light, seasoned with a hint of celery salt.

When it came to choosing dinner, the menu was almost as helpful as our waitress. It details the flavors and textures of 28 kinds of fresh fish, from Boston scrod to Carolina rainbow trout. We chose Florida black grouper ($15.95), a premium variety which is not to be confused with blackened grouper. It was quickly seared on a mesquite grill, which sealed in the sweet flavors and maintained the firm texture. And although the "captain's platter" is a bit pricey ($21.95), it's a good way to sample two highlights: Steamed Florida lobster tail and mesquite grilled shrimp on a skewer. Both were superb. The platter normally comes with broiled scallops, so we substituted some crunchy, fried Ipswich clam strips. As far as we were concerned, you could skip all of the side items except one: The cole slaw was very creamy yet amazingly light, seasoned with a hint of celery salt.

If you order dessert, let it be coconut-banana cream pie ($3.95), which might as well be called "mile high pie" because it's a daunting portion of banana filling topped with thick, whipped cream and toasted coconut.

If you order dessert, let it be coconut-banana cream pie ($3.95), which might as well be called "mile high pie" because it's a daunting portion of banana filling topped with thick, whipped cream and toasted coconut.

If you want a trendy, flashy atmosphere to accompany your seafood, you'll have to head to Bahama Breeze. In the absence of a slick, corporate decorating budget, Straub's Seafood is refreshingly devoid of themes or concepts -- just a few tropical prints and a couple of seashell lampshades. It's the kind of setting you don't notice, especially after the seafood arrives.

Except for the music, we liked almost everything about Sushi House, which is so tiny it might as well be called Sushi Nook. Please, please, we silently begged through an otherwise fine dinner, make someone turn off the Japanese pop versions of Kylie Minogue and Devo tunes.

But if you can stomach peppy music with indecipherable lyrics, the rest is highly palatable. The sushi is luscious and ocean fresh. Team some Kirin beer with the natural resources for a satisfying combination that we enjoyed on our visit.

But if you can stomach peppy music with indecipherable lyrics, the rest is highly palatable. The sushi is luscious and ocean fresh. Team some Kirin beer with the natural resources for a satisfying combination that we enjoyed on our visit.

Sushi House is unassuming in contrast to its high-profile neighbor, the Outback Steakhouse. Both are in a shopping "island" on the outer fringes of the Florida Mall property. The steak aromas were tantalizing as we made our way through the parking lot. But we got over any temptations once we stepped inside Sushi House. There we found a microcosm of delicate colors and culinary simplicity, based on a menu of sushi, sashimi, teriyaki and traditional Japanese (soba) noodle dishes.

Sushi House is unassuming in contrast to its high-profile neighbor, the Outback Steakhouse. Both are in a shopping "island" on the outer fringes of the Florida Mall property. The steak aromas were tantalizing as we made our way through the parking lot. But we got over any temptations once we stepped inside Sushi House. There we found a microcosm of delicate colors and culinary simplicity, based on a menu of sushi, sashimi, teriyaki and traditional Japanese (soba) noodle dishes.

Oddly, the waitress left only one menu at our table. We tried sharing, but then my friend got another one from the vacant hostess station. When the waitress came to take our orders, my friend said he was leaning toward the "sushi deluxe" sampler entree ($16.95), but we needed a few more minutes to decide.

Oddly, the waitress left only one menu at our table. We tried sharing, but then my friend got another one from the vacant hostess station. When the waitress came to take our orders, my friend said he was leaning toward the "sushi deluxe" sampler entree ($16.95), but we needed a few more minutes to decide.

About 10 minutes later, the waitress delivered the "sushi deluxe" to my guest and asked if I had decided on an entree. This was strange, but I went ahead and placed my order. Then we shared his entree as an appetizer while we waited for the rest of the food. The sampler was an extensive collection of California rolls combined with a dozen varieties of tuna, yellowtail, whitefish, octopus, crab, smelt roe and more. All of the preparations were exquisite and fresh.

About 10 minutes later, the waitress delivered the "sushi deluxe" to my guest and asked if I had decided on an entree. This was strange, but I went ahead and placed my order. Then we shared his entree as an appetizer while we waited for the rest of the food. The sampler was an extensive collection of California rolls combined with a dozen varieties of tuna, yellowtail, whitefish, octopus, crab, smelt roe and more. All of the preparations were exquisite and fresh.

About 15 minutes later, out came my tempura seafood combination ($14.95), a delicately battered and fried collection of tuna, salmon, yellowtail, scallops and shrimp. We also savored the sushi made with grilled teriyaki pork ($3.75). And among dozens of choices for sushi a la carte, we particularly liked the "dragon roll," a rich taste of eel, avocado, roe and cucumber ($7.50).

About 15 minutes later, out came my tempura seafood combination ($14.95), a delicately battered and fried collection of tuna, salmon, yellowtail, scallops and shrimp. We also savored the sushi made with grilled teriyaki pork ($3.75). And among dozens of choices for sushi a la carte, we particularly liked the "dragon roll," a rich taste of eel, avocado, roe and cucumber ($7.50).

Despite the cheesy pop music and the service mistake, we'll return to sample more of the menu the next time we're in the area. Among the crop of small, family-owned Japanese restaurants near the south Trail, the cuisine at the Sushi House holds its own and then some.

We all shed a wasabi-tinged tear when Oyaji shut its doors after more than a decade of serving some of the finest sushi in the city. Its hidden-gem status lent further cause among sushi cognoscenti, not to mention the contingent of Japanese patrons, to keep their fishy yaps shut when it came to spreading the word about the place.

But dry your weary eyes and prick up your ears, dear readers, because Ochiai Hidehiko, head blade at Sushi Tomi, is poised to step into the role relinquished by Takashi Hayakawa. So Sushi Tomi's digs are about as inviting as a badly lit basement apartment and its proximity to a Super Wal-Mart doesn't exactly entice ' such annoyances don't seem to bother diners here, a good number of whom, I'm happy to report, are of Japanese descent. You'll hear murmurs of 'Ita-dakimasu,â?� the pre-meal Japanese utterance akin to saying grace, followed by cries of 'Oishi!â?� (delicious!), thanks to the healthy sampling of sushi and authentic Japanese fare offered.

Having been denied the pleasure of nibbling on gyoza ($4), those delectable little potstickers they had just run out of, we opted for the gyu tataki ($8.50) instead ' buttery soft slices of rare beef dressed with scallions and sparked with lemony ponzu. Suffice it to say, the Lucky Cat atop the sushi bar shone a little culinary beneficence on us. I wish I could say the same for the overly pasty sweet purple potato tempura ($4.50) and the small bowl of soggy edamame ($3.50), but the sushi is what people come here for, and in that respect Hidehiko, former head chef at Ran-Getsu on I-Drive, doesn't disappoint.

His sunshine roll ($9.50) was described as 'a mouthful of awesomeâ?� by my dining partner, and I couldn't have agreed more. The colorfully impressive bundle of tuna, salmon, yellowtail and whitefish rolled in a wheel of crunchy cucumber made an emphatic impression ' it was certainly one of the finer rolls I've sampled in the city. Aesthetics played a part in the samurai roll ($9.75) as well, the soft shell of avocado molded atop spicy tuna being a must for those who like a little fire with their flair.

My favorite was the impeccably carved fatty tuna nigiri (market price) which felt like foie gras on the palate. I could've downed a dozen of these toro alone ' a prospect I'm seriously considering on my next visit. Sesame overwhelmed the well-formed cherry dragon roll ($10.95), but the mix of eel, tuna, cucumber and spicy mayo created a warm and delicate balance of flavors.

While the maraschino cherry and whipped cream were superfluous embellishments to the red bean ice cream ($3.50), the icy treat's essence is just what you want in your mouth when walking out the door. Partly frozen, partly creamy tempura cheesecake ($4.75) was marred by inconsistent texture and temperature, and left me with an undesirable heaviness antithetical to the typical sushi-going experience. Then again, from the kind and charming staff and the reasonable prices to the hideously colored walls and the exceptional rolls fashioned by chef Hidehiko, Sushi Tomi is anything but typical.

Since we're having to broaden our knowledge about exotic countries these days, it's probably a good time to note that Thailand (the former Siam, a culture shaped by Chinese, Indian, Cambodian and Malaysian influences -- yet apart from them) is a huge place. Narrowing "Thai food" down to pad thai and green curry is like saying that "American food" is New England clam chowder and grits. There are enough regional variations in Thai cuisine to fuel 100 more restaurants, and the variations at Sawadee Thai are welcome.

Sawadee Thai opened in February without much fanfare. Nestled between a Domino's Pizza and a chrome-wheel store, it doesn't have the dazzle of the nearby Hooters, and you may miss it. But it seems to be a popular place for area residents. This was previously 1st Wok, and there's an incongruous remnant of a sushi bar hidden in the corner. It's a small, strip mallish place, nicely lit with deep gold walls and a lovely terra cotta tile floor.

Sawadee Thai opened in February without much fanfare. Nestled between a Domino's Pizza and a chrome-wheel store, it doesn't have the dazzle of the nearby Hooters, and you may miss it. But it seems to be a popular place for area residents. This was previously 1st Wok, and there's an incongruous remnant of a sushi bar hidden in the corner. It's a small, strip mallish place, nicely lit with deep gold walls and a lovely terra cotta tile floor.

The menu is large enough to make choices difficult. Tod mun pla ($3.99), small fishcakes similar to the stuffing inside dumplings, comes mingled with cool sliced cucumber in a sweet vinegar and spicy red- pepper dressing. Papaya salad (som tam, $4.99), a very typical Northeast Thailand appetizer, starts out light and crispy, the spaghetti strands of green papaya hiding the fact that it is one hot dish. With anything on the menu, unless you're a pepper fanatic, even the "mild" setting may be too high in spiciness.

The menu is large enough to make choices difficult. Tod mun pla ($3.99), small fishcakes similar to the stuffing inside dumplings, comes mingled with cool sliced cucumber in a sweet vinegar and spicy red- pepper dressing. Papaya salad (som tam, $4.99), a very typical Northeast Thailand appetizer, starts out light and crispy, the spaghetti strands of green papaya hiding the fact that it is one hot dish. With anything on the menu, unless you're a pepper fanatic, even the "mild" setting may be too high in spiciness.

Crispy fish with lemongrass ($12.95) is a simple white fish (I believe it was pollack that night, but it changes with the market), flour-coated and fried, served atop peppers and onions, with a pleasantly spicy coconut milk and peanut-curry sauce. Ask for the sauce on the side to let the fish stay crispy longer, and order the fish filleted instead of whole.

Crispy fish with lemongrass ($12.95) is a simple white fish (I believe it was pollack that night, but it changes with the market), flour-coated and fried, served atop peppers and onions, with a pleasantly spicy coconut milk and peanut-curry sauce. Ask for the sauce on the side to let the fish stay crispy longer, and order the fish filleted instead of whole.

I'm getting rather fond of duck and, if you order the duck with basil ($14.95), you'll understand why. Thai rice is at its best when soaking up liquids, and it served its purpose well with this rich, lime and basil-flavored sauce and savory combination of dark duck meat and spinachlike basil leaves. They do have the standards -- pad thai ($8.95) and summer rolls -- and they are also good.

I'm getting rather fond of duck and, if you order the duck with basil ($14.95), you'll understand why. Thai rice is at its best when soaking up liquids, and it served its purpose well with this rich, lime and basil-flavored sauce and savory combination of dark duck meat and spinachlike basil leaves. They do have the standards -- pad thai ($8.95) and summer rolls -- and they are also good.

The young staff is casually attentive beyond expectations. I was asked about every permutation of my order -- how spicy, how much rice. I attempted to order an eggplant dish, but they were out of eggplant. They were also out of takeout menus, and were unable to take American Express when I was there. Hope-fully the "outs" won't get in the way of the good stuff.

Winter Park finally gets a straight-up Indian restaurant, and Tamarind's familiar, fiery and focused dishes are worthy of the hamlet's food-driven denizens. Samosas and sizzling tandoor-fired lamb chops are the way to start; sample the "Tamarind special chicken" and bold salmon tikka for mains; then end with exotic falooda kulfi, ice cream made of condensed milk, rose syrup and crushed pistachios. Beware potholes when negotiating the Kmart plaza parking lot.

I’ll admit, I wasn’t exactly salivating at the thought of dining at a restaurant catering to that oft-forgotten demographic of aging golfers and their silver-coiffed spouses. The Tap Room at Dubsdread, after all, is on the grounds of Orlando’s oldest public golf course; more than a few of its patrons are as well-worn as the ancient golf shoes encased in the display behind the hostess stand. The whole joint is made out of wood, including the ceiling, and the rustic touches and Shaker-style furnishings play up the historic angle. But the restaurant exudes a relaxed swagger – casual, yet unrelenting in its quest for perfection.

In comparison to 19th holes at other public golf courses in Central Florida, the Tap Room is on a whole different playing field. Offering a mix of bar-and-grill bites and gourmet fare, the kitchen unquestionably takes pride in its efforts, plating simple, impeccably prepared dishes. To wit: creamy chicken vegetable soup ($4.95), a chowder-like potage with corn and potatoes that made it a struggle to pass up a second bowl. The soup was a special of the night, but should they offer it on your visit, do yourself a favor and order two.

I was looking forward to sampling the jumbo lump crab cake, but they had evidently run out of crab, so I opted for the tenderloin steak flatbread ($11.95) instead. Cubes of medium-rare beef weighed down a long rectangular sleeve of crisp flatbread flavored with caramelized onions, wild mushrooms and a layer of mozzarella. Not a bad choice at all. I missed the berry compote more than I thought I would while enjoying baked brie ($12.95), though slices of pineapple, cantaloupe, melon and red apple, along with a small cluster of seedless red grapes, offered a properly fruity complement. The buttery-soft baguette was worth half the price of the dish alone.

I thoroughly enjoyed the simply grilled onaga ($24.95), a ruby-red snapper from Hawaii noted for its soft, slightly fatty flesh. The generous puck of liquefying lime-dill butter atop the ample fillet proved to be the sole fault of this special, but it’s a nitpicky charge. Fluffy yellow rice and perfectly grilled asparagus accompanied the dish. If you’re a meat-and-potatoes man, the pot roast ($15.75) won’t disappoint. The slow-roasted slab of beef is enveloped by a wonderfully thick moat of peppery gravy, with potatoes, carrots and celery added to the comforting mix.

Desserts are all made in-house and supply toothsome coups de grace. Shaved rinds add a touch of class to simply divine key lime pie ($4.95), while even the most ardent of chocoholics will be hard-pressed not to feel buzzed from the thick, rich chocolate cake ($5.95).

Service could use a bit of polishing: I can see how the bucolic view lends to a leisurely pace, but letting 10 minutes pass before taking a drink order is just plain shoddy. That, coupled with a front of house I found to be somewhat harried, can dampen the mood and may keep the Tap Room from being a destination for the city’s fooderati. Yeah, the short game may be a little off, but the kitchen, thankfully, has its act together. That’s more than enough to keep the Tap Room in the game.

When judging Mexican food, it helps to have some ex-Californians in your camp. So when I headed over to the Taquitos Jalisco near MetroWest, I called on the most suitable contender I know – my mother. This is a woman of the belief that you can't grow up in Los Angeles without knowing what real Mexican food tastes like. So she dragged us to a veritable shack on the corner of Melrose and Vine weekly, and it was there that my relationship with Mexican food began. Today, my Mexican connoisseurship flourishes except for one problem – there are so few true Mexican restaurants in Orlando. With Mom's approval, Taquitos Jalisco is now on my shortlist.

For those on the west side of town, the sizzling platters and the mariachi band at the flagship Taquitos Jalisco in Winter Garden (1041 S. Dillard St., 407-654-0363) are still wildly popular and worth the drive. But the new Hiawassee Road location opens up the restaurant's authenticity to a new audience.

One of the things I love about a Mexican restaurant is the instant-gratification factor: Sit down to a basket of chips and bowl of salsa and start eating. Unfortunately, chips and salsa, like the breadbasket, often fall under the obligation curse. Salsa should taste magical – the alchemy of plump ripe tomatoes, fresh green cilantro, spicy peppers, sweet onions and the hand of someone special – and Taquitos' does. I couldn't stop piling it onto their warm chips and popping it all into my mouth.

When I opened the menu, my eyes immediately fell on the enchiladas ($8.25), and there was no resisting the pull of childhood temptation. These three soft corn tortillas were stuffed with Mexican cheese – briny, stretchy and tangy all at once – and then set in a sea of delicately smoky enchilada sauce. My husband, also a former Californian, ordered three delicious tacos ($5.99): the carne asada (grilled beef), the pollo (chicken) and, my favorite, al pastor (marinated roast pork.) My mother went for the mole poblano ($8.99), and it was undoubtedly one of the best I've had in town. The deftly layered spices were balanced, the top note being chocolate; Taquitos Jalisco's mole coats the tongue like a soft piece of velvet.

We all remarked on the tastiness of the refried beans, another dish that many Mexican restaurants treat as an afterthought; this kitchen has it mastered. We finished our meal with a smooth and lush flan ($2.75).

Here's a definite sign of the true Mexican restaurant: Menudo is featured on their weekend menu. Only an authentic Mexican restaurant would venture into the strange and tumultuous land of dishes made out of a cow's stomach lining. A Mexican friend once told me that menudo is the best cure for a hangover – I vowed to come back on a hung-over Saturday.

Taquitos Jalisco knows that simplicity is the name of the game in good Mexican cooking. Fresh, quality ingredients are mashed and molded and smoldered into something transformative. They make you feel like whoever made them enjoyed an afternoon in some outdoor Mexican kitchen grinding spices, roasting peppers, hanging out with family, living the simple life. Mom totally agrees.

Kevin and Laurie Tarter expand their culinary empire within the confines of the Edgewater Hotel's ground floor, also home to their Chef's Table. Small plates take on Big Easy flavors with liberal doses of spice; smoked fish dip, boudin balls crowned with runny egg yolk and Asian beef skewers are stellar, and sublime sauces elevate both shrimp & grits and chicken livers. Dessert shooters satisfy without oversating.

Perhaps it was Asian inspiration, or maybe the work of skilled restaurateurs. But on a busy Friday night, when the house was nearly full at Tasty Thai Cuisine, the atmosphere remained genteel and serene, orderly and focused. The neighborhood secret must be getting out: Something special is going on in the kitchen here.

The minimal interior of pale walls and bamboo furniture is a perfect foil for exploring a complex menu; flavors of the Far East come together in warm, sweet, surprising ways at Tasty Thai. Grilled, roasted and stir-fried meats merge with combinations of lemon grass, curry, chiles, cilantro, ginger and coconut milk. The results include dishes like namprik pao seafood ($10.95), an array of calamari, shrimp, mussels and scallops stir-fried with garlic, carrots, onions and bell peppers, served with roast pepper sauce. And salads, such as yum woon sen ($6.95), clear noodles, shrimp and ground pork, tossed with red onion, scallions and cilantro in a spicy dressing.

The minimal interior of pale walls and bamboo furniture is a perfect foil for exploring a complex menu; flavors of the Far East come together in warm, sweet, surprising ways at Tasty Thai. Grilled, roasted and stir-fried meats merge with combinations of lemon grass, curry, chiles, cilantro, ginger and coconut milk. The results include dishes like namprik pao seafood ($10.95), an array of calamari, shrimp, mussels and scallops stir-fried with garlic, carrots, onions and bell peppers, served with roast pepper sauce. And salads, such as yum woon sen ($6.95), clear noodles, shrimp and ground pork, tossed with red onion, scallions and cilantro in a spicy dressing.

On my first visit I sampled the "Tasty combination" ($9.95), more than a dozen fried delicacies. Goon sa-rong was visually intriguing: skewered shrimp wrapped with ground pork and wonton skins, twirled with egg noodles, then deep-fried so the noodles were frozen into place -- kind of like rings around a planet. Goon ka-borg and fried wonton were dumplings stuffed with shrimp and ground pork, and both were very good. There also were simple, fried shrimp, enhanced by a mild sweet-and-sour sauce.

On my first visit I sampled the "Tasty combination" ($9.95), more than a dozen fried delicacies. Goon sa-rong was visually intriguing: skewered shrimp wrapped with ground pork and wonton skins, twirled with egg noodles, then deep-fried so the noodles were frozen into place -- kind of like rings around a planet. Goon ka-borg and fried wonton were dumplings stuffed with shrimp and ground pork, and both were very good. There also were simple, fried shrimp, enhanced by a mild sweet-and-sour sauce.

Cucumber salad ($1.50) was outstanding mainly because of the fine, fruity vinaigrette dressing that bathed the crisp chopped cucumbers, bright green scallions, deep red tomatoes and onions. And satay ($3.95) made a fine appetizer, with four skewers of pork strips marinated in fresh coconut milk and spices, then char-grilled and served with spicy peanut sauce.

Cucumber salad ($1.50) was outstanding mainly because of the fine, fruity vinaigrette dressing that bathed the crisp chopped cucumbers, bright green scallions, deep red tomatoes and onions. And satay ($3.95) made a fine appetizer, with four skewers of pork strips marinated in fresh coconut milk and spices, then char-grilled and served with spicy peanut sauce.

On another visit I had gaeng kaew warn ($6.95), a thick, green curry gravy blended with chicken, peppers, tender bamboo shoots and basil leaves. Ladled over steamed white rice, it created a textured sensation on two levels: the spice intensity and the heat quotient.

On another visit I had gaeng kaew warn ($6.95), a thick, green curry gravy blended with chicken, peppers, tender bamboo shoots and basil leaves. Ladled over steamed white rice, it created a textured sensation on two levels: the spice intensity and the heat quotient.

Service was gracious and thoughtful. (On one rainy visit, hostesses sought out departing customers to ask if they needed umbrellas for the walk back to their cars.) Even after I left the tip on my table, I walked away with the impression that it was I who had been thanked.

You've experienced this scene before. An absurdly attentive waiter with a thick Italian accent keeps returning to a flabbergasted customer's table, bearing plate after plate of delicacies in quantities no ordinary diner could possibly deserve.

Got it? It's a bit in Albert Brooks' great film comedy Defending Your Life. ("You like pies? I'm a-gonna bring you nine pies.") Now, Altamonte-area gourmands get to experience the fantasy for real with the opening of Terramía Winebar/Trattoria, restaurateur Rosario Spagnolo's follow-up to Winter Park's Allegria. And as in Brooks' vision, the beautiful excess starts with the very first course.

At least it does if you opt for the trademark "antipasto Terramía" ($8.50), the first in a series of lucky orders we placed on a recent visit. We were beyond pleased with the initial plateful of warm-up foods, which ran the gamut from succulent roasted peppers to an octopus and-cucumber medley that was delightfully chewy. But no sooner had we conquered that formidable array than our waiter arrived brandishing a second platter of bruschetta with a variety of toppings, including savory chopped mushrooms and a terrific corn polenta with a full-bodied, cheesy flavor. We glanced toward a table to the immediate right of the front door, where all the available antipasto items were laid out for perusal. The sight made us worry that we'd be fending off new arrivals until kingdom come. Where would we find room for the nine pies?

It was all we could do to dig into the "insalata Terramía" ($5.50), whose sun-dried tomato vinaigrette turned out to be that sought-after miracle of salad dressings: oily in taste but not in texture.

We recovered in time for the entrees. We noticed that our chosen pasta dish, the homemade tagliolini with grilled shrimp and cherry tomatoes ($14.50), was served in a tortilla shell that struck us as more south-of-the-border than Mediterranean. Our waiter, acknowledging the incongruity, said the flaky horn of plenty was mostly "for show." (Eat it anyway.)

The tasty dish arrived on two plates, simply because we had mentioned our desire to share our meal. Impressive. Similar bifurcation was visited upon the roasted chicken breast ($13.50), whose embellishment with Parma prosciutto and fontina cheese enhanced its mouth-watering moistness. In each case, the "sharing plate" could have passed for a full order.

That aura of lavishness persisted unto dessert, with the berry cake ($5.95) overflowing with fruit. The creamy cannoli ($5.95) was separated into portions of about two bites each – perhaps in recognition of the dining axiom that, all other things being equal, folks don't feel so guilty about wolfing down food that comes in sections.

The excellence of the service was codified during the coffee course, when our waiter took it upon himself to replace the saucer right out from under our cup, merely because he noticed that it had been defiled by spilled beverage. Yeah, that sort of thing can just ruin a dinner.

If you can manage to avert your gaze from your plate at any time during your meal – and somehow, we managed to – you'll notice that Terramía's interior design makes the most of its location in an Altamonte strip mall ("just past Pebbles," a voice on the phone had clarified – talk about being unafraid of the competition). Laid out in an L-shaped arrangement that makes the halves of the seating area nearly invisible to each other, it's lit predominantly by low-hanging, red-hued fixtures that impart a mood of cozy intimacy. The room is dominated by a large wooden bar bearing bottles upon bottles of the vino that accounts for 50 percent of the establishment's identity. (Confused? Check out that name again.) But there's still room in the corner for a musician to wheeze background melodies out of everybody's favorite instrument, the accordion. (Look carefully, and you may notice that the music doesn't always stop exactly when he does. Technology: It's a good thing.)

Still, authenticity is a big issue at Terramía. Our server hailed from Naples, which he proved by reciting the day's specials in a dialect so old-country rich that we could just about make out the base ingredient of each concoction. Not that it mattered; we got the impression that taking a chance on any given menu item would have yielded equally satisfactory results. Maybe he was just asking if we liked pies.

The story of the churrascaria starts in the high plains of Brazil, the Pampas, where land is rich and soil fertile. It became tradition for the ranchers there to host feasts to celebrate their bounty. Especially enjoyed were the plentiful meats from animals that grazed the land. The cowboys, or gauchos, developed an out-country method of barbecuing fresh cuts of beef, pork, chicken and lamb on skewers over open-pit fires to bring out intense flavor and aroma. This churrasco cooking style was soon adopted by restaurants across Brazil, evolving into the popular steakhouses they are today: no menus, just an array of roasted meats on skewers brought around to the tables for guests to graze upon. "Rodizio" is the name for this type of service – it's like a buffet, only they keep bringing the food to you until you say, "Enough."

Texas de Brazil elegantly brings the churrascaria to Orlando. Started by a Brazilian family in Texas, the chain has been around since 1998 when they opened their first restaurant in Addison, Texas. Now there are eight restaurants around the country and in Aruba, including Orlando. Preserving the churrascaria's roots while upscaling the experience, Texas de Brazil uses rich but rustic design elements – heavy wrought-iron doors push open like horse stalls, riveted metal adorns the bright walls and ceiling; copper bowls of fire sit aside gorgeous sprays of fresh flowers.

Pleasure and overindulgence are the rules here. The music is loud, the colors vibrant. The smell of garlic and wood charcoal waft through the room like a pair of lovers dancing the samba. Walking past the sprawling salad bar that rounds out the meaty main course, one is overwhelmed by the sense of abundance: Fresh items such as carrots, celery, tomatoes, spring greens and cucumbers lie next to specialties like fresh buffalo mozzarella, shrimp ceviche, green beans with walnuts, artichoke and raisin mélange, and mushrooms sautéed with wine and garlic. And there's a huge section dedicated to Latino favorites, such as succulent black beans, garlic soup, tender rice, farofa and yuca.

Back at the table, they dropped off cinnamon-sprinkled sweet fried plantains, garlic mashed potatoes and a small disc that looks like a coaster – one side green, the other red. In keeping with rodizio custom, the green signals an onslaught of servers to bring oversized skewers of top sirloin, Brazilian sausage, roasted lamb, chicken wrapped in bacon, Parmesan-encrusted pork, filet mignon, pork ribs, flank steak and at least six other cuts of juicy, scrumptious morsels, including the unforgettable garlic-marinated picanha. If there were an Olympic category for cooked meats, Brazil would win with this heavenly beef rump cut. Feeling full? Turn the disc to red, and they'll give you a break, so you can head back up to bar.

The churrascaria meal fits well in the low-carb diet craze, but I wouldn't set foot in one without downing at least a half-dozen pão de queijo (Brazilian cheese rolls). And there is enough starchy yuca in the place to carb-load an army. Actually, all food groups are tastefully represented. Dinner is $39.99 per person and worth every hard-earned penny for the excessive amount of quality cooking it buys you. So come with an appetite, and remember: Brazil is known as a country of gorgeous people who like to frolic in scantily clad fashion – they must be on to something.

Thai restaurants and restaurants serving Thai food are not an oddity in Orlando, and everyone seems to have their favorite. I must admit that I never counted Thai House on East Colonial as one of mine. But by moving two doors down, they've reinvented themselves and given me an excuse to take another look, and another taste.

In its new digs next to Wendy's (a better example of yin and yang you won't find), the owners of Thai House have done a fine remodeling job, with varying shades and textures of woods surrounding the room, along with tables and several platform booths that give you the feeling of sitting on the floor without having to crouch down. Service is fast and attentive, and people are courteous and smile, even to the diner at another table who was (briefly) bellowing into his cell phone when I was there.

This isn't some recombinant Viet-Thai, sushi-Thai, nouveau-Asian amalgam cuisine. The items on Thai House's extensive menu are authentic, from the mee krop appetizer ($5.95) -- sticky, crisp rice noodles with a sweet/spicy tamarind sauce and shrimp -- to the strong herbal iced tea with half-and-half.

My test of good Thai food is always tom kha gai, coconut chicken soup ($2.95). While Thai House's recipe was slightly too thin and not coconutty enough for my tastes, the soup had a lovely lime aroma, and the preparation probably saved me a few unneeded grams of fat.

Some names on the menu could be rethought, like "shipwrecked" ($12.95), a spicy baked dish of squid, shrimp and crab with bean threads. One dish from the "house special" page had the unfortunate name of "Smokey and the Bandit" ($11.95), which caused me to pause. Nonetheless, I was smart enough to overlook the name and order it; it's a small tureen of smoked shrimp with thin glass noodles, cross-sections of carrot and broccoli and a fish-sauce base, with so much chili and ginger that the aftertaste actually feels cold in your mouth. It's a perfect match with the ubiquitous sticky rice; ask for extra.

Familiar dishes are well represented, like a decent green curry of chicken, beef or pork ($8.95), and a truly wonderful phad thai ($7.95), stir-fried noodles and either chicken or shrimp, all tangy with lime juice and lemon leaves.

Standard entrees won't cost you more than $12.95, with certain "market-priced" fish dishes, such as a whole steamed red snapper, that can be slightly higher. But the servings are generous enough that any order is a bargain.

Objective journalism be damned; The Thai Place is a great restaurant. Not perhaps in the same way that Ducasse in New York or Le Cinq in Paris is great, but if consistently good food and service is your earmark of greatness, then let's throw the dictionary away and go eat.

It's difficult to find any place, restaurant or otherwise, that can live up to the memories of your last visit, and that's why it's always a pleasure to sit at one of the tables in the recently expanded shopping-center location, redecorated with dark walls and glittery Thai artwork. The food is always as good as you remember, and the addition of more space only means you'll have a better chance of being seated.

It's difficult to find any place, restaurant or otherwise, that can live up to the memories of your last visit, and that's why it's always a pleasure to sit at one of the tables in the recently expanded shopping-center location, redecorated with dark walls and glittery Thai artwork. The food is always as good as you remember, and the addition of more space only means you'll have a better chance of being seated.

Before you even look at the menu, order the chicken coconut soup (tom kha gai, $2.95). Sit for a moment with the bowl before you, inhale the ginger and lemongrass aroma, admire the mushrooms and strips of chicken breaking the surface like islands in a calm, spicy sea. Be careful -- lemongrass isn't the most edible seasoning, but avoiding the green segments only allows you to slow down and enjoy the flavor.

Before you even look at the menu, order the chicken coconut soup (tom kha gai, $2.95). Sit for a moment with the bowl before you, inhale the ginger and lemongrass aroma, admire the mushrooms and strips of chicken breaking the surface like islands in a calm, spicy sea. Be careful -- lemongrass isn't the most edible seasoning, but avoiding the green segments only allows you to slow down and enjoy the flavor.

And flavor is what Thai Place is all about. Whether it's nam sod ($5.95), a ground chicken and peanut salad spiced with ginger and lime or the lightly battered vegetable tempura with a sweet hot sauce ($4.95), the appetizer selections prepare your tongue for several combinations of main courses.

And flavor is what Thai Place is all about. Whether it's nam sod ($5.95), a ground chicken and peanut salad spiced with ginger and lime or the lightly battered vegetable tempura with a sweet hot sauce ($4.95), the appetizer selections prepare your tongue for several combinations of main courses.

In a way, entrées at Thai Place remind me of gourmet night at Fawlty Towers, where Basil Fawlty served duck with orange, duck with cherry, or "duck surprise" (with orange and cherry). To your order of chicken, seafood, beef or pork is added a choice of sauces; variations on curries red, green or yellow, sweet chili, ginger or hot basil. All are good choices, and some -- like the green curry, with a mellow slow heat unlike Indian curry's sudden attack -- will make you sit back and smile. Entrees run between $8.95 and $10.95, with house specials like "Siamese shrimp" slightly higher. If the pad thai noodles ($7.95) had a little more lime, they'd be the best in town. Vegetarians can order fresh veggie combinations with any of those marvelous sauces.

A salad, resplendent with peanut dressing, will appear before you almost as you're sitting down. Boon, the owner, never forgets a face or what is usually ordered to stuff in it, and it's rarely long between offers of more sticky rice or drinks.

A salad, resplendent with peanut dressing, will appear before you almost as you're sitting down. Boon, the owner, never forgets a face or what is usually ordered to stuff in it, and it's rarely long between offers of more sticky rice or drinks.

Thai Place is a restaurant you'll bring guests to, always with the fear that it'll become too popular if you tell too many people. Don't worry, it's a big plaza, they can always spread out again.

Everyone has a favorite Thai restaurant. The town is full of them, some with bold and unique takes on the multicultural and ancient cuisine of Thailand, some sticking to basic noodle-and-chicken recipes.

Like every other variety of cuisine, there are interpretations of Thai that range from great to OK to really bad. Fortunately, Thai Villa falls into the middle category -- it's OK, doing certain things well and others, just passably.

Like every other variety of cuisine, there are interpretations of Thai that range from great to OK to really bad. Fortunately, Thai Villa falls into the middle category -- it's OK, doing certain things well and others, just passably.

Open since February 2001, the location formerly housed the Garden Chinese restaurant. As with other eateries on that crowded stretch of road in east Winter Park (Red's Caribbean Market and Stefano's Trattoria, for example), if you don't keep your eyes open, you will miss it. The parking lot is only slightly larger than the 10-table dining area, which is artfully paneled in slightly rough wood. There's an electric piano just inside the door, but fortunately, they don't ask for an audition before you're seated.

Open since February 2001, the location formerly housed the Garden Chinese restaurant. As with other eateries on that crowded stretch of road in east Winter Park (Red's Caribbean Market and Stefano's Trattoria, for example), if you don't keep your eyes open, you will miss it. The parking lot is only slightly larger than the 10-table dining area, which is artfully paneled in slightly rough wood. There's an electric piano just inside the door, but fortunately, they don't ask for an audition before you're seated.

The menu doesn't hold many unusual items (it's amazing how familiar Orlandoans have become with Thai cuisine), although I was taken aback by the size of the stuffed chicken wings ($5.95). Stuffed with ground chicken and mildly sweet spices, then deep-fried, it's a pleasant dish, and there's a lot of it. Spinach and mushroom salad ($7.95) doesn't sound very Thai and it wasn't -- a bed of baby spinach leaves, sliced mushroom buttons and a sliced chicken fillet come doused in a peppery wine vinaigrette that I would have liked more without the dried bits of spices.

The menu doesn't hold many unusual items (it's amazing how familiar Orlandoans have become with Thai cuisine), although I was taken aback by the size of the stuffed chicken wings ($5.95). Stuffed with ground chicken and mildly sweet spices, then deep-fried, it's a pleasant dish, and there's a lot of it. Spinach and mushroom salad ($7.95) doesn't sound very Thai and it wasn't -- a bed of baby spinach leaves, sliced mushroom buttons and a sliced chicken fillet come doused in a peppery wine vinaigrette that I would have liked more without the dried bits of spices.

Noodle dishes, curries and "main" dishes are available with chicken, beef, pork, vegetable or tofu, and they're mostly variations of stir-fries, combinations of vegetables and different sauces. The ever-popular phad Thai was surprisingly bland, with neither lime flavor nor an abundance of peanuts to jazz it up ($7.95 to $8.95, depending on the meat).

Noodle dishes, curries and "main" dishes are available with chicken, beef, pork, vegetable or tofu, and they're mostly variations of stir-fries, combinations of vegetables and different sauces. The ever-popular phad Thai was surprisingly bland, with neither lime flavor nor an abundance of peanuts to jazz it up ($7.95 to $8.95, depending on the meat).

A house special "seafood delight" ($9.95), offering tender squid and scallops, was not terribly interesting. The marvelously sharp smell of fresh ginger gave me a moment of hope when the "ginger duck" arrived, but I've had tastier, and tenderer, duck ($11.95).

A house special "seafood delight" ($9.95), offering tender squid and scallops, was not terribly interesting. The marvelously sharp smell of fresh ginger gave me a moment of hope when the "ginger duck" arrived, but I've had tastier, and tenderer, duck ($11.95).

One dish I sampled did step out of the mediocre; "spicy eggplant" ($8.50 to $9.50 with choice of meat) was very nice, with firm chunks of eggplant complemented by a touch of chili and Thai basil.

One dish I sampled did step out of the mediocre; "spicy eggplant" ($8.50 to $9.50 with choice of meat) was very nice, with firm chunks of eggplant complemented by a touch of chili and Thai basil.

If you're hungry and in the neighborhood, you could do worse than this serviceable standby.

Even if you're one of those chow-time populists whose bullshit sonar starts pinging whenever a "name" chef opens another high-concept, decor-forward eatery, you'll feel your cynicism melting away upon contact with Todd English's bluezoo, the upscale seafood restaurant -- sorry, they prefer to call it "coastal cuisine" -- newly located in the Walt Disney World Dolphin Hotel.

A motif of mannerly sophistication asserts itself the minute you're welcomed by the courteous reception staff and led past the glowing blue bar to your table. The darkened dining area -- coolly stylish yet far more comfortable than the typical modern-art project masquerading as a restaurant -- is peppered by overhead fixtures with sculpted waves that simulate the feeling of being "under the sea" (to employ the Disney vernacular). The hostess places a napkin in your lap -- letting go at exactly the right moment to forestall a cry of "Hey, now!" -- and you're off to the submarine races.

A motif of mannerly sophistication asserts itself the minute you're welcomed by the courteous reception staff and led past the glowing blue bar to your table. The darkened dining area -- coolly stylish yet far more comfortable than the typical modern-art project masquerading as a restaurant -- is peppered by overhead fixtures with sculpted waves that simulate the feeling of being "under the sea" (to employ the Disney vernacular). The hostess places a napkin in your lap -- letting go at exactly the right moment to forestall a cry of "Hey, now!" -- and you're off to the submarine races.

On a recent visit, our waiter proved knowledgeable, outgoing and endlessly patient, even when we took a seeming eternity to decide on our order. Even his belief that just about everything on the menu merited some usage of the adjective "phenomenal" came off as endearing rather than obnoxious.

On a recent visit, our waiter proved knowledgeable, outgoing and endlessly patient, even when we took a seeming eternity to decide on our order. Even his belief that just about everything on the menu merited some usage of the adjective "phenomenal" came off as endearing rather than obnoxious.

As it turned out, he was awfully close to correct. We started with an order of lobster chive dumplings ($13), big and filling, with tender lobster in a wonderfully flaky shell (though the mango pico de gallo, green lentils and red-curry "spill" was a pleasant challenge to our waiter's assertion that almost nothing on the menu is particularly spicy). The salad of roasted beets ($9) quickly earned plaudits for its superior greens and avoidance of an over-oiled texture.

As it turned out, he was awfully close to correct. We started with an order of lobster chive dumplings ($13), big and filling, with tender lobster in a wonderfully flaky shell (though the mango pico de gallo, green lentils and red-curry "spill" was a pleasant challenge to our waiter's assertion that almost nothing on the menu is particularly spicy). The salad of roasted beets ($9) quickly earned plaudits for its superior greens and avoidance of an over-oiled texture.

As an entree, the "fish grilled simply" ($29) was a must-have, both as an example of the lower-priced range of the menu and because it sounded downright spiritual. ("Grill fish simply, so that others may simply grill fish.") From among the day's choices, we selected the mahi-mahi -- not the most adventuresome option, but we're the people's paper, remember? The fish was wonderful in its oaken flavor, and we thought we had landed a real trophy -- until we sampled miso-glazed Chilean sea bass ($32), whose buttery consistency (and hint of maple, we thought) made it slap-the-table delectable. We immediately doused our mahi-mahi with the accompanying sauce of warm crabmeat, Dijon mustard and chives (one of three sauces offered) in a vain attempt to achieve parity.

As an entree, the "fish grilled simply" ($29) was a must-have, both as an example of the lower-priced range of the menu and because it sounded downright spiritual. ("Grill fish simply, so that others may simply grill fish.") From among the day's choices, we selected the mahi-mahi -- not the most adventuresome option, but we're the people's paper, remember? The fish was wonderful in its oaken flavor, and we thought we had landed a real trophy -- until we sampled miso-glazed Chilean sea bass ($32), whose buttery consistency (and hint of maple, we thought) made it slap-the-table delectable. We immediately doused our mahi-mahi with the accompanying sauce of warm crabmeat, Dijon mustard and chives (one of three sauces offered) in a vain attempt to achieve parity.

An experiment with side dishes yielded mixed results: The spicy shrimp cole slaw ($6) impressed with tender shrimp and a peanut dressing that balanced richness with dashes of the slightly spicy Chinese radish daikon. But the "shake & bake fries" ($6), topped with grated Parmesan and crushed garlic, was no more than the sum of its ingredients. The dessert of warm chocolate cake ($10.50) was prepared with malted cream and cocoa sorbet, yet in a blind taste test, it could have been confused with an ordinary fudge brownie. Still, given the excellence of the entrees and the ambience, complaining that bluezoo's supplementals were inconsistent would be like attending a "Lord of the Rings" movie and coming out disappointed that the trailers didn't look like much.

An experiment with side dishes yielded mixed results: The spicy shrimp cole slaw ($6) impressed with tender shrimp and a peanut dressing that balanced richness with dashes of the slightly spicy Chinese radish daikon. But the "shake & bake fries" ($6), topped with grated Parmesan and crushed garlic, was no more than the sum of its ingredients. The dessert of warm chocolate cake ($10.50) was prepared with malted cream and cocoa sorbet, yet in a blind taste test, it could have been confused with an ordinary fudge brownie. Still, given the excellence of the entrees and the ambience, complaining that bluezoo's supplementals were inconsistent would be like attending a "Lord of the Rings" movie and coming out disappointed that the trailers didn't look like much.

When it was time to settle up, we noticed that we had mistakenly been charged for two sides of fries. Our waiter promptly corrected the error, and while he was at it, he also comped us for the cake, which he felt had taken too long to reach our table -- a classy move that fit the overall excellence of the entrees, the ambience and the service. The prices won't make the place a weekly destination for most folks, but splurging whenever you can afford to is great way to feel like king of the sea.

While on the way to Toscana at Avalon Park, make sure you have a cell phone handy. Because, aside from enjoying a pleasant conversation with the nice folks in the restaurant, it is unbelievably easy to get lost in the wilds of east Orlando. And if you're like me, you'll probably pick the wrong entrance into the burgeoning development and end up driving through eerily half-constructed neighborhoods.

The part of "town" that Toscana inhabits is a more welcoming place -- once you find it. In a residential/business center along the lines of downtown Celebration, the restaurant lives under the clock tower, and the relatively small but comfortable space has an upscale air of earth tones and gold d?cor. I fully expected the menu's prices to reflect the atmosphere and was pleasantly surprised.

The part of "town" that Toscana inhabits is a more welcoming place -- once you find it. In a residential/business center along the lines of downtown Celebration, the restaurant lives under the clock tower, and the relatively small but comfortable space has an upscale air of earth tones and gold d?cor. I fully expected the menu's prices to reflect the atmosphere and was pleasantly surprised.

Staff is attentive and involved, as in the case of several dishes prepared tableside, such as the Caesar salad ($6.50 per person) with real anchovies, crisp greens and a definite flair for wrist-tossing. Steak tartare ($9.95) is uncooked ground beef folded meticulously with egg, onions and lovely little capers. My choice among the appetizers, the Prince Edward Island mussels ($6.75), was a bit unusual, sautéed in red-pepper-seasoned butter, so the bowl is empty of the accustomed broth. At first offering, the mussels were unappetizingly undercooked. A second try revealed firm shellfish with a rich and somewhat salty taste.

Staff is attentive and involved, as in the case of several dishes prepared tableside, such as the Caesar salad ($6.50 per person) with real anchovies, crisp greens and a definite flair for wrist-tossing. Steak tartare ($9.95) is uncooked ground beef folded meticulously with egg, onions and lovely little capers. My choice among the appetizers, the Prince Edward Island mussels ($6.75), was a bit unusual, sautéed in red-pepper-seasoned butter, so the bowl is empty of the accustomed broth. At first offering, the mussels were unappetizingly undercooked. A second try revealed firm shellfish with a rich and somewhat salty taste.

My companion asked me to try her lobster bisque ($5.75), and a sample revealed, under the sweet lobster bits and crab base, a taste that we could only describe as "cream of mushroom soup." While I'm sure nary a can of Campbell's would be found in the kitchen, they've managed to duplicate the flavor.

My companion asked me to try her lobster bisque ($5.75), and a sample revealed, under the sweet lobster bits and crab base, a taste that we could only describe as "cream of mushroom soup." While I'm sure nary a can of Campbell's would be found in the kitchen, they've managed to duplicate the flavor.

Entrees fared better; splendidly, in fact. A red snapper almondine ($22.95) brought wonderfully Asian flavors to the flaky white fish, coated in pan-roasted nuts and served with a delightfully un-sweet, chunky mango chutney -- dark and light flavors complementing each other.

Entrees fared better; splendidly, in fact. A red snapper almondine ($22.95) brought wonderfully Asian flavors to the flaky white fish, coated in pan-roasted nuts and served with a delightfully un-sweet, chunky mango chutney -- dark and light flavors complementing each other.

Most enjoyable was a relatively simple pasta dish of farfalle, saut&eacurte;ed shrimp and two superlative lobster bits, the butterfly pasta wonderfully al dente and coated in creamy white wine sauce, a delight at every fork ($25.95).

Most enjoyable was a relatively simple pasta dish of farfalle, saut&eacurte;ed shrimp and two superlative lobster bits, the butterfly pasta wonderfully al dente and coated in creamy white wine sauce, a delight at every fork ($25.95).

The cordial manager kept us busy before and after dinner with an amuse-bouche of teeny clams in coconut curry, and a smooth and fruity blueberry mousselet. It was these off-menu items that impressed me as much as anything served; if they were experiments, I'd suggest Toscana starts serving them right away. They match the surroundings.

There was nothing deliberate about Viet Garden's decision to offer a half Vietnamese, half Thai menu when it opened in 1994. It was merely a reflection of a kitchen team skilled in both cuisines. But as Thai food has taken off in popularity, Viet Garden has added even more Thai items and specials.

The restaurant continues to do an equally good job with its Vietnamese and Thai creations. And the quietly understated atmosphere -- the tile floors are glossy and polished, and lacquered furniture is precisely arranged -- ensures the emphasis stays on the food.

The restaurant continues to do an equally good job with its Vietnamese and Thai creations. And the quietly understated atmosphere -- the tile floors are glossy and polished, and lacquered furniture is precisely arranged -- ensures the emphasis stays on the food.

We started off with nam sod ($5.95), a fantastic Thai appetizer that is much more delectable than it sounds. Ground chicken is jazzed up with ginger, scallions, chili and lime dressing, and it crunches with the texture of the whole peanuts. Served with a pot of peanut sauce, this appetizer was our favorite. Other items not to miss include the popular "pineapple fried rice" ($8.50), served in a scooped-out pineapple shell with chicken, shrimp, eggs and scallions.

We started off with nam sod ($5.95), a fantastic Thai appetizer that is much more delectable than it sounds. Ground chicken is jazzed up with ginger, scallions, chili and lime dressing, and it crunches with the texture of the whole peanuts. Served with a pot of peanut sauce, this appetizer was our favorite. Other items not to miss include the popular "pineapple fried rice" ($8.50), served in a scooped-out pineapple shell with chicken, shrimp, eggs and scallions.

Next we moved on to the "Viet combo appetizer" ($7.95), which featured a fabulous shrimp toast. Luscious shrimp paste was spread over toast points and broiled until sizzling. There also were crackling-crisp spring rolls, fresh garden rolls, beef tenders and fried wontons, all of which were appealing.

Next we moved on to the "Viet combo appetizer" ($7.95), which featured a fabulous shrimp toast. Luscious shrimp paste was spread over toast points and broiled until sizzling. There also were crackling-crisp spring rolls, fresh garden rolls, beef tenders and fried wontons, all of which were appealing.

We also liked fine rice vermicelli topped with grilled pork ($6.50). The bed of pure white rice noodles was properly sticky, and the pork strips were flawlessly tender. The dish was even better enjoyed with a sprinkling of crushed nuts, with each forkful dabbed into plummy hoisin sauce.

We also liked fine rice vermicelli topped with grilled pork ($6.50). The bed of pure white rice noodles was properly sticky, and the pork strips were flawlessly tender. The dish was even better enjoyed with a sprinkling of crushed nuts, with each forkful dabbed into plummy hoisin sauce.

Less exciting was the "flower connection" ($9.95), a surf-and-turf extravaganza presented in a blossom formed from fried wonton skins. There were shrimp, scallops, pork, chicken and stir-fried vegetables, but something was missing in the sauce, which was bland and flavorless.

Less exciting was the "flower connection" ($9.95), a surf-and-turf extravaganza presented in a blossom formed from fried wonton skins. There were shrimp, scallops, pork, chicken and stir-fried vegetables, but something was missing in the sauce, which was bland and flavorless.

The only lapse in service came at the end of the meal, when we were left waiting for the check for nearly 15 minutes after we had finished eating and only a few other customers lingered. We finally beckoned to our waiter, who was seated at an empty table across the room. He brought the check and just one box instead of the two requested for our leftovers.

The only lapse in service came at the end of the meal, when we were left waiting for the check for nearly 15 minutes after we had finished eating and only a few other customers lingered. We finally beckoned to our waiter, who was seated at an empty table across the room. He brought the check and just one box instead of the two requested for our leftovers.

Although service isn't always as sharp as it should be, you can count on Viet Garden for delicious food from the Far East, time and again.