Locations in Orlando

We were waiting for a table at Romano's Macaroni Grill, and we had plenty of company. Flurries of customers milled around the front door and lined up in groups on the sidewalk outside, prepared for one hour waits. We had chosen to bide our time in the bar, lulled into complacent resignation by Peroni beers and frozen Bellinis. We stifled hunger pangs as we watched a full house chowing on pastas, grilled meats and wood fired pizzas that came from the bustling exhibition kitchen.

And then something happened that really got our attention. Five tables opened up right in the middle of the restaurant. Then they stayed open -- for five minutes, then 10. It was excruciating to watch them go unclaimed in the middle of a restaurant where people were clamoring to be seated. When our mobile "Macaroni" beeper never signaled us, we went back to the hostess to ask if anyone was going to be seated at the empty tables. But she told us our turn would come soon, and directed us back to the bar.

And then something happened that really got our attention. Five tables opened up right in the middle of the restaurant. Then they stayed open -- for five minutes, then 10. It was excruciating to watch them go unclaimed in the middle of a restaurant where people were clamoring to be seated. When our mobile "Macaroni" beeper never signaled us, we went back to the hostess to ask if anyone was going to be seated at the empty tables. But she told us our turn would come soon, and directed us back to the bar.

When a restaurant can flubs the seating arrangements like that and still remain so filled with customers, it's obviously doing something right. And Romano's Macaroni Grill is the kind of Italian restaurant that lots of people like. It's noisy, fun, fast-paced and filled with lavish Italian food at neighborhood prices. The setting is spacious, rustic and casual with stone walls, lights strung overhead, fresh flowers all around, waiters who occasionally belt out "Happy Birthday" serenades in Italian, and wine that flows. Jugs of house wine are on the honor system at $3.29 a glass. Bread is limitless too, and it's always hot, crusty, and plentiful, served with a dipping plate of olive oil, shredded parmesan and pepper.

When a restaurant can flubs the seating arrangements like that and still remain so filled with customers, it's obviously doing something right. And Romano's Macaroni Grill is the kind of Italian restaurant that lots of people like. It's noisy, fun, fast-paced and filled with lavish Italian food at neighborhood prices. The setting is spacious, rustic and casual with stone walls, lights strung overhead, fresh flowers all around, waiters who occasionally belt out "Happy Birthday" serenades in Italian, and wine that flows. Jugs of house wine are on the honor system at $3.29 a glass. Bread is limitless too, and it's always hot, crusty, and plentiful, served with a dipping plate of olive oil, shredded parmesan and pepper.

The kitchen doesn't stint on portions, either. "Fonduta Gamberi" ($6.99) is just what the name suggests in Italian: A ravishing fondue of shrimp, artichoke hearts and spinach, roasted into a melted mess with Parmesan and mozzarella cheeses. It's appetizer heaven with a heap of garlic toast wedges.

The kitchen doesn't stint on portions, either. "Fonduta Gamberi" ($6.99) is just what the name suggests in Italian: A ravishing fondue of shrimp, artichoke hearts and spinach, roasted into a melted mess with Parmesan and mozzarella cheeses. It's appetizer heaven with a heap of garlic toast wedges.

"Pizza di Pollo Barbacoda" is another winning choice: A wood-fired pizza on a thin, chewy crust with vigorous toppings of barbecued chicken, pecorino and mozzarella cheese ($7.49). It manages to be light and filling at the same time.

"Pizza di Pollo Barbacoda" is another winning choice: A wood-fired pizza on a thin, chewy crust with vigorous toppings of barbecued chicken, pecorino and mozzarella cheese ($7.49). It manages to be light and filling at the same time.

"Scaloppine di Salmone" salmon fillet ($12.99) is a winning entree that leaves a citrus impression, sauteed with fresh lemon butter. It's adorned with capers, tomatoes and fresh bright basil. But on the night we visited, the accompanying bowl of linguine had no flair whatsoever. It looked and tasted like someone had dumped it out of a pot to get it out to the table in a hurry. And the "Ravioli Formaggi" only hinted at the asiago, parmesan cheeses that were stuffed into the pasta, because the roasted garlic cream sauce had been drenched with a heart-stopping dose of salt.

"Scaloppine di Salmone" salmon fillet ($12.99) is a winning entree that leaves a citrus impression, sauteed with fresh lemon butter. It's adorned with capers, tomatoes and fresh bright basil. But on the night we visited, the accompanying bowl of linguine had no flair whatsoever. It looked and tasted like someone had dumped it out of a pot to get it out to the table in a hurry. And the "Ravioli Formaggi" only hinted at the asiago, parmesan cheeses that were stuffed into the pasta, because the roasted garlic cream sauce had been drenched with a heart-stopping dose of salt.

Popularity notwithstanding, Romano's Macaroni Grill doesn't belong in the big leagues of Italian restaurants. It's so busy being sought after that when customers start flooding in, the kitchen stops sweating the details. Best to try this restaurant when it's not quite so busy, and the heady flavors of Tuscany are more dependable. In the meantime, if you're looking for ultimate Italian breads and grilled Tuscan meats, your search has ended.

It's a Tuesday ritual for spaghetti junkies on the south side of town: Hefty, homestyle dinners for about $3 at Rossi's. This mom-and-pop restaurant is celebrating nearly 34 years in the same location by slashing prices on a special anniversary menu.

The deals are outrageous -- roughly half-price for some of the most popular items. A spaghetti dinner, plus salad and grilled garlic bread, starts at $2.75. Thick, toasted submarine sandwiches packed with deli meats start at $2.50. Ten-inch cheese pizzas are just $2.95.

The deals are outrageous -- roughly half-price for some of the most popular items. A spaghetti dinner, plus salad and grilled garlic bread, starts at $2.75. Thick, toasted submarine sandwiches packed with deli meats start at $2.50. Ten-inch cheese pizzas are just $2.95.

The only catch is that you must eat in and don't expect anything fancy. Service is casual; the amenities are low ceilings, dim lighting and lumpy seats. It's truly a south-side dive -- and a well-loved one, judging from its staying power.

If someone said, "Let's go to Roy's for dinner," you might think they were referring to a chicken shack. But you should hope they're talking about Roy's Restaurant, the latest entry in fine dining along the amazingly fertile Sand Lake and Dr. Phillips intersection.

Restaurants and shops are springing up like weeds along this stretch of land that was formerly filled with, well, weeds. Roy Yamaguchi, cookbook author, TV host and restaurateur, has opened the latest branch of his empire on it.

Restaurants and shops are springing up like weeds along this stretch of land that was formerly filled with, well, weeds. Roy Yamaguchi, cookbook author, TV host and restaurateur, has opened the latest branch of his empire on it.

From the hype, I expected someplace fancier. The decor varies: a bistro feel with quilted copper panels above an open kitchen and a smattering of small tables; upscale diner with booths and bare wood tables against a beautiful river-rock wall; and a section of wine-cellar gone mad, with enormous glass-walled wine racks. A key ingredient in the Roy's experience is wine. The chain (there's more than a dozen) has partnerships with wineries that put the "Roy's" label on select bottles and sell him truckloads of premium vintages. The guy buys 1,100 cases of Pinot Gris at a time, so you'll have lots of choices.

The food also gives you choices. The menu reads like a primer in Hawaiian and Asian cooking and combinations thereof. Inamona sauce (candlenut kernels from the island of Hana) is served with ahi tuna. Shutome swordfish is basted in Thai curry sauce. I had a lovely serving of hebi (Hawaiian spearfish), a dark, oily meat that's firmer and more pronounced in taste that tuna, nicely grilled with cilantro leaves ($25). My companion had the "surfah" combination ($25), seared mahi with macadamia lobster sauce along with triple tails with Parmesan crab sauce. Unfortunately, it was presented with the two fish stacked on each other, and the sauces sort of blended around them. They were damn good sauces, even though the fish seemed a bit too bland to carry them.

Appetizers were beautiful in presentation but ordinary in taste. Coconut shrimp sticks weren't any better than standard Chinese-restaurant fare. The topping on the "dynamite" oysters reminded me of broiler-browned mayonnaise.

Certain desserts take 20 minutes to prepare. If you're like me (and of course you are), you probably can't think about dessert so far in advance, so just order the "haupia," coconut pudding in a chocolate shell that looks like a little coconut.

Certain desserts take 20 minutes to prepare. If you're like me (and of course you are), you probably can't think about dessert so far in advance, so just order the "haupia," coconut pudding in a chocolate shell that looks like a little coconut.

Roy's prides itself on "aloha service." In this case, "aloha" must be the island word for "waiter hovering over you at alternate mouthfuls." Maybe I'm getting curmudgeonly in my old age. Maybe that's why Roy's has so much wine.

Once upon a time, indulging in Thai cuisine was an exotic foray into the unknown, but now Thai restaurants can be found on just about every main drag in town. What's next? McThai drive-throughs with satay nuggets and curry value-meals?

drive-throughs with satay nuggets and curry value-meals?

Thankfully, much more originality and attention to detail are in evidence at Royal Thai, which opened in 1997, making it an early entry in the Thai trend. When we visited shortly after the restaurant opened, near the busy crossroads of Semoran Boulevard and Colonial Drive, we found some aspects of the menu and service lacking.

Thankfully, much more originality and attention to detail are in evidence at Royal Thai, which opened in 1997, making it an early entry in the Thai trend. When we visited shortly after the restaurant opened, near the busy crossroads of Semoran Boulevard and Colonial Drive, we found some aspects of the menu and service lacking.

But Royal Thai has only improved with age. Two recent revisits offered a delicious presentation of the prowess of chef Jintana Bant, who hails from northern Thailand. Service was more efficient, too -- we were in and out within an hour.

But Royal Thai has only improved with age. Two recent revisits offered a delicious presentation of the prowess of chef Jintana Bant, who hails from northern Thailand. Service was more efficient, too -- we were in and out within an hour.

The simple dish param ($8.95) was handled with such a deft touch that it caught us off guard. The traditional stew of meat (which we declined in lieu of tofu) and spinach is nothing too fancy. But then we spooned some of the light peanut sauce over the pan-seared tofu cubes and vegetables, and took a taste. The hot, spicy flavors revealed themselves quietly and successively, like the trail of glitter in the aftermath of fireworks. It was at that moment we knew we were in the hands of a pro.

The simple dish param ($8.95) was handled with such a deft touch that it caught us off guard. The traditional stew of meat (which we declined in lieu of tofu) and spinach is nothing too fancy. But then we spooned some of the light peanut sauce over the pan-seared tofu cubes and vegetables, and took a taste. The hot, spicy flavors revealed themselves quietly and successively, like the trail of glitter in the aftermath of fireworks. It was at that moment we knew we were in the hands of a pro.

We had a more delayed reaction to the formidable "Thai beef stew" ($8.95), which is prepared in a red curry paste, backed up by a chorus of onions, peanuts and potatoes. Halfway into it, we realized we had crossed into extremely hot territory. We set this dish aside to be later enjoyed a few bites at a time and moved on to the next delight.

We had a more delayed reaction to the formidable "Thai beef stew" ($8.95), which is prepared in a red curry paste, backed up by a chorus of onions, peanuts and potatoes. Halfway into it, we realized we had crossed into extremely hot territory. We set this dish aside to be later enjoyed a few bites at a time and moved on to the next delight.

The "golden squid" ($5.95) was a refreshing antidote; these were jumbo rings of tender, chewy meat flash-fried into golden fritters. Left alone, they were fine, but when the appetizers were lightly whisked into a dish of chili-plum sauce -- as light and sweet as a glass of wine -- the taste was much more intriguing.

The "golden squid" ($5.95) was a refreshing antidote; these were jumbo rings of tender, chewy meat flash-fried into golden fritters. Left alone, they were fine, but when the appetizers were lightly whisked into a dish of chili-plum sauce -- as light and sweet as a glass of wine -- the taste was much more intriguing.

Our only disappointment was the mee grob ($4.95), which could have used more than four shrimp. Otherwise, it was an able rendition of crispy rice noodles sautéed in a sweet-and-sour sauce, garnished with bean sprouts.

Our only disappointment was the mee grob ($4.95), which could have used more than four shrimp. Otherwise, it was an able rendition of crispy rice noodles sautéed in a sweet-and-sour sauce, garnished with bean sprouts.

On two visits, we never saw more than a dozen customers in the dining area, which resembles a cool, dimly lit garden cottage. But they do a busy takeout business here. If Royal Thai is still uncharted territory, be assured that two years after opening, it is a worthy destination for sophisticated Thai classics.

We didn't review this location but you can check out the review of the Ruth's Chris Steakhouse in Winter Park.

It's not that we weren't given a thoroughly warm welcome. And sure, at least half of the customers that night were women. Even the restaurant is named after a woman. But my girlfriend and I agreed: Ruth's Chris Steak House has the definite vibes of a "guy" restaurant.

The whole place is steeped in masculine energy. It's all clubby and private, with lustrous mahogany woods, low lighting, starched white linens on the tables, and secluded booths with swinging doors. The portions are massive, and the prices will hit you in the wallet big time, unless, of course, you're there with an important client on a business expense account. Although dinner for two can easily climb upward of $100, it's a carnivore's dream, steak at its very finest.

The whole place is steeped in masculine energy. It's all clubby and private, with lustrous mahogany woods, low lighting, starched white linens on the tables, and secluded booths with swinging doors. The portions are massive, and the prices will hit you in the wallet big time, unless, of course, you're there with an important client on a business expense account. Although dinner for two can easily climb upward of $100, it's a carnivore's dream, steak at its very finest.

This New Orleans-based chain deals only with corn-fed Hereford cows. Meats are aged several weeks for added flavor and tenderness. Each cut is seared on an 1,800-degree grill, hot enough to fire pottery, which quickly seals the meat and locks in juices. They arrive at your table sizzling in butter. The results are sometimes so tender that a steak knife isn't necessary to dig in; a mere fork will do.

This New Orleans-based chain deals only with corn-fed Hereford cows. Meats are aged several weeks for added flavor and tenderness. Each cut is seared on an 1,800-degree grill, hot enough to fire pottery, which quickly seals the meat and locks in juices. They arrive at your table sizzling in butter. The results are sometimes so tender that a steak knife isn't necessary to dig in; a mere fork will do.

Our waiter greeted us by our party's name, which he evidently got from the host at the front door. It was a small touch that helped us to relax. He steered us through the menu, making informed suggestions. We had an excellent barbecued shrimp appetizer ($8.95), which was sautéed in a sauce of reduced white wine, butter, garlic and spices. We also had a dish that was generously loaded with escargot and hearts of artichoke ($8.25) sautéed in white wine with heaps of scallions and mushrooms.

Our waiter greeted us by our party's name, which he evidently got from the host at the front door. It was a small touch that helped us to relax. He steered us through the menu, making informed suggestions. We had an excellent barbecued shrimp appetizer ($8.95), which was sautéed in a sauce of reduced white wine, butter, garlic and spices. We also had a dish that was generously loaded with escargot and hearts of artichoke ($8.25) sautéed in white wine with heaps of scallions and mushrooms.

Our waiter described the "cowboy rib-eye special" ($29.95) in such tempting detail that we couldn't resist. It weighed in at a jaw-dropping 22 ounces and was indeed extremely flavorful, drawing some of its impact from the bone, which was left intact. It was seared to medium-cooked perfection with a bright pink center, just as we requested. We also ordered a trio of lamb chops ($29.95), which were delicately marbled and extremely juicy, served with a pot of "emerald mint" dressing.

Our waiter described the "cowboy rib-eye special" ($29.95) in such tempting detail that we couldn't resist. It weighed in at a jaw-dropping 22 ounces and was indeed extremely flavorful, drawing some of its impact from the bone, which was left intact. It was seared to medium-cooked perfection with a bright pink center, just as we requested. We also ordered a trio of lamb chops ($29.95), which were delicately marbled and extremely juicy, served with a pot of "emerald mint" dressing.

There are eight ways to have potatoes at Ruth's, from mashed with roasted garlic to au gratin. We went with the Lyonnaise treatment ($4.50), sliced and sautéed with onions. Back home, we call them fried potatoes, but Ruth's version was handled skillfully. The tenderly steamed asparagus is another good choice, served with a delicate Hollandaise sauce ($6.95).

There are eight ways to have potatoes at Ruth's, from mashed with roasted garlic to au gratin. We went with the Lyonnaise treatment ($4.50), sliced and sautéed with onions. Back home, we call them fried potatoes, but Ruth's version was handled skillfully. The tenderly steamed asparagus is another good choice, served with a delicate Hollandaise sauce ($6.95).

Among the killer assortment of desserts, crème brûlée ($5.95) is a favorite with the clientele. Served with a handful of berries, it was eggy yet feather light, and the sugar crystals on top were torched into a glassy, crisp coating. Ice-cream freezes are a house specialty, made with Haagen Dazs and top-shelf liqueurs such as creme de cacao and brandy that go into the "velvet hammer" ($5.25).

Among the killer assortment of desserts, crème brûlée ($5.95) is a favorite with the clientele. Served with a handful of berries, it was eggy yet feather light, and the sugar crystals on top were torched into a glassy, crisp coating. Ice-cream freezes are a house specialty, made with Haagen Dazs and top-shelf liqueurs such as creme de cacao and brandy that go into the "velvet hammer" ($5.25).

Although we didn't sample the wine, there is a well-crafted menu that includes dozens of choices by the bottle or glass. We tried to find at least one thing about our entire dinner that wasn't perfect but came up empty-handed. We had to admit that Ruth's Chris Steak House has earned its reputation as a landmark restaurant worthy of visiting on special occasions -- or better yet, when you're on someone else's expense account.

As mainstream tastes grow more adventurous, perhaps it was inevitable that a swanky sushi restaurant would arrive on east Aloma Avenue, next door to a bowling alley.

Despite sounding like a play on the word "psycho", Saikyo Sushi Bar and Grill takes its name from a combo of "Saigon" and "Tokyo," a reflection of the owners' backgrounds. Eventually Vietnamese cuisine will join the menu, but for now it's all Japanese. And there's a varied selection to satisfy palettes that prefer raw or cooked dishes. Friday and Saturday nights are busy but lunch hasn't quite caught on, as we discovered on a weekday visit.

Despite sounding like a play on the word "psycho", Saikyo Sushi Bar and Grill takes its name from a combo of "Saigon" and "Tokyo," a reflection of the owners' backgrounds. Eventually Vietnamese cuisine will join the menu, but for now it's all Japanese. And there's a varied selection to satisfy palettes that prefer raw or cooked dishes. Friday and Saturday nights are busy but lunch hasn't quite caught on, as we discovered on a weekday visit.

One of the owners formerly worked as an architect in Vietnam, and his designs have transformed the place impressively from its previous lives. An arched wooden footbridge leads from the parking lot to the front door, and a garden pond is on the way. Inside, the feng shui is enhanced by soft colors, subdued lighting, a small "tatami" seating area and a gleaming sushi bar.

One of the owners formerly worked as an architect in Vietnam, and his designs have transformed the place impressively from its previous lives. An arched wooden footbridge leads from the parking lot to the front door, and a garden pond is on the way. Inside, the feng shui is enhanced by soft colors, subdued lighting, a small "tatami" seating area and a gleaming sushi bar.

There is nothing complicated about the menu; it's a to-the-point collection of sashimi (fish served raw) and sushi (vinegared rice garnished with seafood and/or vegetables), with some sukiyaki, teriyaki and tempura entrees thrown in.

There is nothing complicated about the menu; it's a to-the-point collection of sashimi (fish served raw) and sushi (vinegared rice garnished with seafood and/or vegetables), with some sukiyaki, teriyaki and tempura entrees thrown in.

Sushi rolls are plumply sliced. The "French roll" ($6.95) is wrapped in a crepe that covers shrimp, crab, avocado, cucumber and cream cheese. Dabbed with tingling wasabi paste, it has a lot of impact. We also loved the crunch of fried soft-shell crab, deliciously blended with asparagus and onions in the "spider roll" ($8.95). Inside there was an unexpected orange blaze of smelt eggs.

Sushi rolls are plumply sliced. The "French roll" ($6.95) is wrapped in a crepe that covers shrimp, crab, avocado, cucumber and cream cheese. Dabbed with tingling wasabi paste, it has a lot of impact. We also loved the crunch of fried soft-shell crab, deliciously blended with asparagus and onions in the "spider roll" ($8.95). Inside there was an unexpected orange blaze of smelt eggs.

Tempura fans will find territory to explore in the deep-fried "Sanibel roll" ($6.95) with salmon and asparagus bonded by cream cheese. The vegetable tempura dinner ($8.95) is a filling assortment of sliced sweet potatoes, onions, peppers, broccoli tips and mushrooms. The dish is oily, which weighs down the otherwise light presentation.

Tempura fans will find territory to explore in the deep-fried "Sanibel roll" ($6.95) with salmon and asparagus bonded by cream cheese. The vegetable tempura dinner ($8.95) is a filling assortment of sliced sweet potatoes, onions, peppers, broccoli tips and mushrooms. The dish is oily, which weighs down the otherwise light presentation.

Pork teriyaki ($12.95) benefits from the sauce -- light, never clingy -- that's washed over the grilled strips of tenderloin, dusted with sesame seeds. Entrees come with steamed rice and a choice of soup or salad. Go for the miso soup; it's satisfying and aggressive, spiked with scallions and tofu cubes.

Pork teriyaki ($12.95) benefits from the sauce -- light, never clingy -- that's washed over the grilled strips of tenderloin, dusted with sesame seeds. Entrees come with steamed rice and a choice of soup or salad. Go for the miso soup; it's satisfying and aggressive, spiked with scallions and tofu cubes.

Service was professionally low-key. We had a sense of space, yet our requests were met in a timely manner. Saikyo Sushi Bar and Grill may just go the distance in a location that's been a revolving door for Asian restaurants.

The first mall food experience I remember is slurping down an Orange Julius after buying my very first pair of pegged, zipper-on-the-bottom jeans. My obsession with the jeans didn't last, but I can't say the same for the fabulous string of selections I discovered thereafter at the mall: bubblegum-flavored popcorn, See's gourmet lollipops, bourbon chicken … the list goes on.

Nothing, however, compares to what's cooking in a corner of the Florida Mall: Salsa Taqueria and Tequila bar. Here, I sipped my very first glass of amaretto-infused tequila for dessert, which blew the pineapple Julius away for best beverage at the mall.

But let's rewind. Before I even entered the colorful and cavernous restaurant, I sampled the chips the hostess was giving out at the entrance. Hungry shoppers were lured in by the dozens, and I could see why. As the homemade chips delicately crackled between my teeth, I knew I had to have more – a lot more. In fact, I didn't stop until three bowls of guacamole ($3.95) were polished off. It was creamier than usual and tingled the tongue with fresh lime, serrano pepper and hints of cilantro.

Queso fundido ($6.50), a rich blend of manchego, asadero and Monterey Jack cheeses, was swaddled in fresh handmade flour tortillas and was proof that bread and cheese is a universally adored pairing. Tortilla soup ($4.95), creamy from the blending of corn tortillas with hearty chicken broth, was bright and refreshing. Among the flavors to shine in this soup were guajillo chiles, a common dried pepper in Mexico, but a difficult-to-find ingredient in American markets.

The taco sampler ($10.95) was an array of flavor and texture. If one were eating a spectrum of color, this is what it would taste like; it started with a light citrus-marinated chicken, then moved through marinated beef, roasted pork with pineapple and sweet onions, grouper with fruity pico de gallo and slaw, roasted mushrooms, and poblano peppers with queso fresco. I was overwhelmed with the mixture of surprise as the tastes ran from sweet and fruity to fragrantly spicy to pleasantly mellow to creamy and back again.

One of the best things about Salsa Taqueria is the just representation of capsicums on the menu. Look no further to expand your knowledge of peppers: bell, smoked jalape'o, chipotle, serrano, guajillo and poblano, to name a few.

The Mexico City enchiladas ($11.95) are a mix-and-match of choices: There's chicken, beef or shrimp, but also be prepared to choose from yellow, poblano, guajillo or tomatillo mole, all spectacularly delicious. My favorite, the guajillo, seemed heavy at first, but woke the mouth with a little zing and a lot of tang after the first bite. Among three sandwich selections, we tried "torta Havana" ($8.50), thinly sliced pork loin, ham and avocado on pleasantly light, toasted bread. The addition of chipotle sauce made the flavors come alive.

For dessert we ordered the tres leches ($3.95), of course. Tres leches is one of my current kitchen experiments, and I made one the other day that looked like a deflated balloon. Luckily, Salsa Taqueria's fared better, but was more like a tiramisu drenched in fruit puree than the silky, milk-soaked genoise that captures my recent affections. (Note: I invite … no, beg those with good tres leches recipes to please step forward and share.) So, after our delicious meal, I was ready to go try on some jeans – no zippers on the bottom this time.

Sam's Music Bar Bistro is an upscale sports bar and steakhouse located in Metro West. The bar is open daily with excellent pub style food available, with lunch served on Fridays and Saturdays. Pool tables, darts and juke box create a great pub atmosphere with live entertainment, karaoke and poker nights. The adjoining steakouse offers Certified Angus steaks and a great choice of salads, pastas and fish. Come enjoy our great food, award-winning steaks and cocktails served by Orlando's hottest bartenders.

Some images naturally evoke romance – not the Harlequin variety, but a more decadent version made up of long, luscious nights of freedom and beauty, love and passion. For me, this fantasy is colored in a tropical patina that conjures Havana in the 1950s, something the Samba Room also effects. OK, so you're not exactly sitting oceanfront at a deco hotel sipping mojitos: You know you're in a suburban strip mall that sidles up to a sinkhole. But you don't really care because you're having fun, eating good food, and the atmosphere is convivial and very romantic.

Samba Room's change of ownership back in 2003, from Carlson Restaurant Group (TGI Fridays) to E-Brands Restaurants, has done it justice. E-Brands has a careful hand in the kitchen and a wonderful way of creating ambience.

"Would you like to sit inside," the smiley hostess asked, "or out by the lake?"

Inside was festive and enticing with loud Latin music and brightly colored Diego Rivera-esque murals. Airy white curtains, so gossamer that every draft becomes a tropical breeze, bring life to the darkest corners. But it was a beautiful night, so we chose to dine outside by the lake. We sat, sipping cocktails beneath white rattan paddle fans, and peered inside at larger parties crowded around tables, talking loudly, laughing, engaged in each others' company under russet-orange lights. This is what you call casual elegance.

We started with an order of Samba ceviche ($8.95), which mixed market-fresh fish, shrimp, red onions and colorful peppers in a lime marinade. Pleasantly tangy, the dish swelled with flavor, balancing acidity and salinity. My mouth never puckered with displeasure. The roasted hominy on the side added satisfying texture to the delicious dish.

The empanada sampler ($7.95) consisted of both sweet corn and pork varieties. Surprisingly, we liked the nontraditional sweet corn because it had fuller flavor and more filling. Both of the delicious sauces served with the empanadas were delicate fusions. Listed as "sofrito" (annatto-infused lard with vegetable garniture) and "aji amarillo" (a lemony capsicum from Latin America), they were modern streaks of emulsified flavor, distant cousins to the traditional varieties, running down an edge of the plate.

For my main course, I tried Spanish paella ($25.50). Tiny red strands of saffron spattered the mound of rice laced with calamari, shrimp, white fish, chicken and some of the biggest mussels I've ever seen. The deep, earthy, subtle perfume of saffron followed the dish out of the open kitchen into the air. Half of a Maine lobster was the crown jewel of the dish.

My partner got the pork barbacoa ($18.95), marinated and roasted in banana leaves. Unwrapping the leaves, he found a tender piece of pork nestled under a blanket of sweet, citrusy barbecue sauce.

We were intrigued by the shiitake mushrooms al ajillo ($3.95) that spectacularly showcased traditional Asian mushrooms in Latin garlic sauce.

I was about to burst when the espresso tres leches ($6) and guava cheesecake ($6) were delivered. I ate half of the excellent Kahlua-spiked tres leches before switching plates for a bite or two of the zesty cheesecake. The server brought café con leche ($4.50) to end our meal, and we sat looking over the still Florida water, slowly sipping the creamy, sweet coffee.

"We should plan a trip to Cuba," I said, as we walked under industrial fluorescents across the vast suburban parking lot.

What's in a name? That which we call Sazon 436 by any other name would smell as savory. Yes, I'll admit, the moniker of this little Puerto Rican eatery in unincorporated Winter Park conjured up an image that proved not to be factual. I expected a simple, casual eatery that may or may not have been defined as a 'hole in the wall,â?� but Sazon 436, as it turned out, was anything but. A spotless interior sparked by a black-and-white checkerboard floor, looked over by harmonious still lifes and candlelit tables, lent the interior a cozy parlor chic. The scene is at once simple and dignified, and much the same can be said about chef Moises Izquierdo's dishes.

After celebrating one year in business, owner Carlos Guzman and his wife Maritza Sanz decided to close for a month, partly in celebration of the anniversary and partly in celebration of their daughter's wedding. But they also spent some of that time accessorizing the dining room with black and red linens, extending the wine list and flying Izquierdo up from Puerto Rico to introduce subtly contemporary twists to a bill of fare comprised of Boricua comfort staples.

'Kingâ?� prawns ($9) drizzled in a delightful guava beurre blanc sauce lacked the regal girth, but the starter was as straightforward as it was satisfying. I just wished the king prawns were crowned with a splash more of the sauce ' it tempered the saltiness of the shrimp. Avocados stuffed with shredded chicken in tomato sauce ($7) weren't awe-inspiring, but the fruit was firm (not mushy) and the tomatoey chicken accomplished the task of whetting our appetites for the mains.

The fried red snapper ($18) will certainly elicit a visceral response from sensitive diners. The fish, served whole, is propped upright and curved mouth to tail, but it's the golden, crisp flesh flavored with minced garlic that easily made this dish the highlight of the night. Small complaint: The bed of sautéed spinach didn't look as fresh as it could've ' consider a bowl of cilantro-spiked green rice ($5) instead. 'Atti's Famousâ?� braised short ribs ($15), named for the owners' granddaughter, was yet another dish in keeping with Izquierdo's simple-yet-spirited approach. Chunks of tender, fatty meat fell off the bone effortlessly, and along with a purplish mound of mashed starchy yautía (a root vegetable similar to taro), made for a plateful of culinary consolation.

A glass of white wine passion sangria was sweet refreshment, but I had the sneaking suspicion that the grapes, pears and peaches were canned. The cinnamon stick, however, added a nice aromatic touch.

Just as aromatic was the yaya papaya ($4), a circular pound cake with hints of coconut smothered with diced caramelized papaya. If your teeth are not so sweetly inclined, chef Moises' cheesecake ($5), glazed with guava, is spot-on and begs to be enjoyed with a café con leche ($3) or, rather, leche con café ' our cordial waiter served us a cup of heated milk along with a small decanter of hot coffee. A little gimmicky, but we enjoyed the reversal nonetheless.

The 2008 menu with 'all the greasy good stuff,â?� like mofongo and fried tostones, will make its return in the coming weeks, says Guzman, after which Izquierdo will head back to Puerto Rico. Let's hope he leaves a bit of his legacy in the kitchen before taking off.

There was a time when a good number of my lunchtime repasts were enjoyed at this very address, back when Schlotzsky’s Deli occupied the space. So as I glided across the black-and-white checkered floor (the sole vestige from those heady deli days) to my comfortable banquette, I couldn’t help reminiscing about those deeply satisfying oven-toasted sandwiches and hoping SEA Thai’s strikingly diverse menu would leave me just as satisfied.

Thankfully, the six siblings running SEA (an acronym for “Southeast Asia,” but also an allusion to their modest seafood offerings) make customer contentment a priority. All have served as either waiters or cooks at other Siamese establishments around town, and if a culinary conundrum is encountered, parental consultation is just a phone call away.

The scene is simple and serene with a trace of lounge cool: A colorful wall of geometry evokes Mondrian, while colorful dishes evoke Shavitranuruk, the chef responsible for melding the four “S”s of Thai cookery – sweet, sour, spicy and salty. The mound of slivered green papaya ($5.95) specked with fresh garlic and soaked in vinegar and lemon elicits a proper pucker before the piercing stab of Thai green chilies numbs the tongue. The flavors are similar to Indian kachumber but with a far greater crunch, thanks to the papaya.

The perfumed broth of Thai lemongrass soup ($3.25) further demonstrates the kitchen’s consistency, and while the tempered use of fish sauce suggests a less-is-more approach, a cluster of baby corn, snow peas, broccoli, carrots, mushrooms, scallions and cabbage refutes the notion. Even unadventurous fried spring rolls ($2.95) stuffed with glass noodles and assorted minced veggies show a fastidious commitment.

A complex confluence of flavors comprises the more than 50 available entrees, but none more so than chili red snapper ($26.95). The enormous, impeccably crisp fish is served whole atop a slather of chili-laced hot and sour sauce jeweled with diced red and green peppers. It’s the sort of dish that gets you lost in the moment and makes raising your head a challenging endeavor.

Lime juice and chili sauce provoke the palate in the tiger tear steak ($12.95), a marinated strip loin served sizzling on a hot plate. The hiss of the fat dripping from the meat gives the dish its weepy name, and you’ll cry for more once you’re done. Two sauces – a lip-smacking dip of garlic, rice powder and crushed chilies, and a sweet “American-style teriyaki sauce,” as my waitress put it – enhance the succulence of the beef.

Refreshing coconut and slightly bitter mango ice cream ($4.95) set atop gelatinous sticky rice brings the meal to a tropical finish and provides some much-needed oral relief. I couldn’t get enough of buttery Thai donuts ($3.95) tinseled with a glimmering honey drizzle. If you’re like me and melt at the thought of any butter-filled confection, this is the capper for you.

The glut of Thai restaurants in town has given rise to an ever-growing legion of devotees, many of whom have cultivated a discriminating palate for all things Siamese. SEA Thai certainly belongs in the category of restaurants worthy of a visit, its loyal following being a testament to the kitchen’s proficiency and the jolly disposition of its staff. My waitress seemed to be perpetually beaming which, as I learned when I made my way back to the car, ultimately proved infectious.

Here are some quick tips for those who don't have an entire evening to kill at Seasons 52, the new "test" restaurant on Sand Lake Road from the Darden folks (Red Lobster, Olive Garden, Bahama Breeze).

Don't go there on a Friday night. Don't go after 7:30 p.m. Don't try to make a reservation; they're booked for weeks. Don't go there now. But once the newness wears off, go there.

Don't go there on a Friday night. Don't go after 7:30 p.m. Don't try to make a reservation; they're booked for weeks. Don't go there now. But once the newness wears off, go there.

Seasons 52 is what they're calling a "fresh grill." The concept ties seasonal items and global specialties into the menu, trying to make the most of what's currently available. Basically, that means some dishes will come and go throughout the year, while others will change when, say, asparagus is harvested in California or strawberries reach their peak here.

Seasons 52 is what they're calling a "fresh grill." The concept ties seasonal items and global specialties into the menu, trying to make the most of what's currently available. Basically, that means some dishes will come and go throughout the year, while others will change when, say, asparagus is harvested in California or strawberries reach their peak here.

Even if you're not a salad person, the mixture of baby spinach and Comice pear from Oregon, drizzled with lemon vinaigrette and blue cheese, is a perky delight ($4.75). And even with the occasional grit, the large "Fisherman's bowl" of mussels ($8.50), fragrant with an orange-ginger broth, is worth ordering, just to slurp every drop from the bowl. By comparison, the much-touted chicken flatbread ($7.50), a long slab of thin, oven-roasted bread wasn't as impressive, undercooked in spots but crunchy and savory in others.

Even if you're not a salad person, the mixture of baby spinach and Comice pear from Oregon, drizzled with lemon vinaigrette and blue cheese, is a perky delight ($4.75). And even with the occasional grit, the large "Fisherman's bowl" of mussels ($8.50), fragrant with an orange-ginger broth, is worth ordering, just to slurp every drop from the bowl. By comparison, the much-touted chicken flatbread ($7.50), a long slab of thin, oven-roasted bread wasn't as impressive, undercooked in spots but crunchy and savory in others.

A rare presence in restaurants, chunks of mesquite-grilled turkey were presented with great flair on a kabob with red onions from Maui, and a sweet, dark tamarind glaze ($12.75). I cannot imagine it being done any better.

A rare presence in restaurants, chunks of mesquite-grilled turkey were presented with great flair on a kabob with red onions from Maui, and a sweet, dark tamarind glaze ($12.75). I cannot imagine it being done any better.

Grilled sea scallops ($17.95), giant discs pan-browned with fresh asparagus on the side, hovered right on the cusp of absolute greatness, and if they'd stayed in the skillet 30 seconds more they would have been.

Grilled sea scallops ($17.95), giant discs pan-browned with fresh asparagus on the side, hovered right on the cusp of absolute greatness, and if they'd stayed in the skillet 30 seconds more they would have been.

Another interesting concept: Waiters come equipped with a wireless PDA (a sort of personal dining assistant) that not only feeds orders directly to the kitchen, but accesses nutritional information for every meal, on request. (Locally based nutritionist/writer Pam Smith, an expert on health and how people really eat, consulted on the menu.)

Another interesting concept: Waiters come equipped with a wireless PDA (a sort of personal dining assistant) that not only feeds orders directly to the kitchen, but accesses nutritional information for every meal, on request. (Locally based nutritionist/writer Pam Smith, an expert on health and how people really eat, consulted on the menu.)

The room is large but with a feeling of intimacy. There's a great use of woods and windows, and everything fits, from the fabulous silverware to the energetic and casual but attentive service. And the chefs have great hats. While you're waiting for a table (even at 5:30 p.m. there was a 30-minute wait) the pleasant bar offers 60-plus wines by the glass.

The room is large but with a feeling of intimacy. There's a great use of woods and windows, and everything fits, from the fabulous silverware to the energetic and casual but attentive service. And the chefs have great hats. While you're waiting for a table (even at 5:30 p.m. there was a 30-minute wait) the pleasant bar offers 60-plus wines by the glass.

Another "test" concept, Outback Steakhouse's Zazarac (which I liked), wasn't open long enough to be entered on a resume. I can't predict that the kitchens at Seasons 52 will be permanent enough to live out its name. But if it does, go.

It seems like just a few years ago, there were only one or two Indian restaurants in town. Now there are several, though most cater to tourists by locating themselves on International Drive.

And there, in a strip-mall, is Shamiana, where on a recent Sunday afternoon I found the decor pleasant and unpretentious, with paddle fans, hanging plants and tapestries (although our table was a little grimy).

I began with sweet lassi ($2), a creamy beverage made of blended mango and yogurt. I've tried lots of versions of this Indian specialty, but this was by far the best I've had anywhere. We split our puri appetizer ($2), a puffed piece of whole wheat bread, lightly fried and served with a sweet chickpea sauce for dipping. Also accompanying the puri was a tasty chutney and a cucumber, tomato and onion salad. All were delicious.

My companion ordered the chicken korma ($4.95), which was superb, although a bit richer than what we're used to. This version was prepared with a mild, creamy almond sauce with raisins and spices and served on jasmine rice.

In an effort to be different, I asked for the lamb sheik kabab ($5.95) but was offered a polite apology (they were out of lamb) and a suggestion to try the chicken tikka masala ($4.95) instead. My disappointment ended as soon as the dish arrived. It featured tender chunks of chicken baked in a tandoori oven, then stirred into a smoky tomato sauce with onions, peppers and herbs.

Both main dishes were served thali-style on large steel platters with an eye-popping variety of side dishes, breads and dipping sauces. (Shamiana's thali platters are excellent lunchtime bargains, with prices varying a couple of bucks depending on whether you want chicken or the pricier shrimp and lamb dishes.) We liked the pappadam (lentil crackers) and the naan (plain bread -- excellent for dipping). However, we were underwhelmed by the "dal of the day" -- in this case, a bland, mushy lentil mixture -- as well as the saffron-colored, uninspiring potatoes. The rice pudding was a welcome, cooling treat after all the spicy food -- with just enough nutmeg to make it interesting.

And even though we ate a heck of a lot of food, our bill without tip was just $19. Clearly, Shamiana isn't trying to keep up with the neighbors.

Stylish Sanford soul-food joint sells a 1-pound burger that’ll knock your socks off, though affable proprietor Shantell Williams also perfectly executes chicken and waffles, fried flounder and fried okra. Some items, like a mac-and-cheese-topped portobello mushroom and fried Jamaican beef patties, are atypical but noteworthy nonetheless. Desserts change daily, but whatever Shantell’s got, get it.

I'm a lucky guy. What I do for a living doesn't require that I spend long days out in a fishing boat or toiling in the fields. So, unlike the people sushi was originally developed for, I eat it as a luxury.

That's right, sushi was the original box lunch, with the fermented or vinegared rice -- called "shari" -- the ingredient that preserves the fish without refrigeration. Like most things Japanese, the craft became an art, all of which culminates in the atmosphere of the new Shari Sushi Lounge, full of artistic morsels that delight the eye and the palate.

That's right, sushi was the original box lunch, with the fermented or vinegared rice -- called "shari" -- the ingredient that preserves the fish without refrigeration. Like most things Japanese, the craft became an art, all of which culminates in the atmosphere of the new Shari Sushi Lounge, full of artistic morsels that delight the eye and the palate.

This latest restaurant to join the hip habitat of Thornton Park Central makes up in height what it lacks in width, two levels of shimmery chairs and black-clothed tables in a creamy white room. The sushi bar is a chrome and ebony island; the cases of fresh sashimi glimmering under tiny spotlights.

This latest restaurant to join the hip habitat of Thornton Park Central makes up in height what it lacks in width, two levels of shimmery chairs and black-clothed tables in a creamy white room. The sushi bar is a chrome and ebony island; the cases of fresh sashimi glimmering under tiny spotlights.

Technically, sushi means the fish part of the delicacy, with the shari having just as much importance as the colorful protein atop it. The fish that landed here are among the best I've tasted, and a combination roll like the "Fort Myers" ($7), with yellowtail and whitefish rolled alongside avocado, scallions and spicy mayo, is a savory showcase. "Beauty and the Beast" ($9) is a knockout, two rolls alternating tuna and eel with avocado, asparagus and flying fish roe -- I don 't know which part is considered the "beast," but this dish is a "beauty."

Technically, sushi means the fish part of the delicacy, with the shari having just as much importance as the colorful protein atop it. The fish that landed here are among the best I've tasted, and a combination roll like the "Fort Myers" ($7), with yellowtail and whitefish rolled alongside avocado, scallions and spicy mayo, is a savory showcase. "Beauty and the Beast" ($9) is a knockout, two rolls alternating tuna and eel with avocado, asparagus and flying fish roe -- I don 't know which part is considered the "beast," but this dish is a "beauty."

Simple offerings, such as boiled soybean edamame ($4) or a tako salad of pickled octopus, cucumber, orange slices and spicy kimchee ($7), are done to perfection. More elaborate and original dishes are irresistible. I tried something called "Toro Tartare" ($12) and was served mounds of deep red tuna on top of fried and flaky tortilla wedges; the textures were only surpassed by the taste.

Simple offerings, such as boiled soybean edamame ($4) or a tako salad of pickled octopus, cucumber, orange slices and spicy kimchee ($7), are done to perfection. More elaborate and original dishes are irresistible. I tried something called "Toro Tartare" ($12) and was served mounds of deep red tuna on top of fried and flaky tortilla wedges; the textures were only surpassed by the taste.

Behind the silver bar is a cool-looking itamai-san (sushi chef) called Chau ("just Chau," he says). Chau's parents own Saikyo Sushi on Aloma Avenue, which is where some of Shari's inventive menu was tested. It is quite extensive, and I can envision several months worth of regular visits before exhausting the tasty options, but the prize is "Chau's truffles" ($15), an assortment platter that offers ever-changing samples of his remarkable talent. Octopus cupped in a crepe, translucent salmon covered in wasabi-flavored roe, and eel with cucumber thankfully bereft of sweet sauce, were just some of the treasures.

Behind the silver bar is a cool-looking itamai-san (sushi chef) called Chau ("just Chau," he says). Chau's parents own Saikyo Sushi on Aloma Avenue, which is where some of Shari's inventive menu was tested. It is quite extensive, and I can envision several months worth of regular visits before exhausting the tasty options, but the prize is "Chau's truffles" ($15), an assortment platter that offers ever-changing samples of his remarkable talent. Octopus cupped in a crepe, translucent salmon covered in wasabi-flavored roe, and eel with cucumber thankfully bereft of sweet sauce, were just some of the treasures.

As sushi chef, manager and co-owner, Chau is responsible for much of Shari's superb quality, and you'll thank him when you leave.

The little cottage tucked next to Kim's Karate on East Colonial has housed many food venues through the years, from fancy to funky to fried fish. Shin Jung, offering traditional dishes from its Korean kitchen, might just be the one that stays.

Interior design touches are few, but the spotless cleanliness of the place is enough. There are four booths along the west wall, a half dozen four-top tables and one large table in a back corner. Add in a few community-event posters, written in Korean, and that's it. No ferns. No frills.

Interior design touches are few, but the spotless cleanliness of the place is enough. There are four booths along the west wall, a half dozen four-top tables and one large table in a back corner. Add in a few community-event posters, written in Korean, and that's it. No ferns. No frills.

The main dish offerings ($7.95-$15.95) cover an exotic gamut: Hawe nang myun, which is a cold-noodle dish served with hot-spice stingray, to al by tang, a short rib of beef soup. For my midweek lunch, I experimented with dolt bib bb ($8.95). First presented is a large stone bowl filled with steamed white rice, containing shredded vegetables: carrots, zucchini, shiitake mushrooms and bean sprouts. Arrayed nearby are smaller dishes of veggies: a mild combo of seaweed, more bean sprouts, scallion tops, radishes in sweet marinade, tofu slices sautéed in a sesame sauce, cabbage in a Korean red-pepper broth and a cup of delicious steamy broth of a mild white-radish soup.

The main dish offerings ($7.95-$15.95) cover an exotic gamut: Hawe nang myun, which is a cold-noodle dish served with hot-spice stingray, to al by tang, a short rib of beef soup. For my midweek lunch, I experimented with dolt bib bb ($8.95). First presented is a large stone bowl filled with steamed white rice, containing shredded vegetables: carrots, zucchini, shiitake mushrooms and bean sprouts. Arrayed nearby are smaller dishes of veggies: a mild combo of seaweed, more bean sprouts, scallion tops, radishes in sweet marinade, tofu slices sautéed in a sesame sauce, cabbage in a Korean red-pepper broth and a cup of delicious steamy broth of a mild white-radish soup.

The smiling server treated me like the new kid on the block, hurrying over to take my chop sticks from my hands to show me that I should be tossing and stirring the rice dish in my stone bowl because "delicious sesame oil hiding in the bottom." (Sesame oil and seeds are a mainstay in the cuisine.) She checked frequently to see if I was enjoying my meal and to fill my water glass.

The smiling server treated me like the new kid on the block, hurrying over to take my chop sticks from my hands to show me that I should be tossing and stirring the rice dish in my stone bowl because "delicious sesame oil hiding in the bottom." (Sesame oil and seeds are a mainstay in the cuisine.) She checked frequently to see if I was enjoying my meal and to fill my water glass.

There is also a 10-item barbecue list ($7.95-$14.95) that gives ultra-authentic choices to more stalwart diners -- for example, unmarinated beef tongue, beef tripe and beef intestine.

There is also a 10-item barbecue list ($7.95-$14.95) that gives ultra-authentic choices to more stalwart diners -- for example, unmarinated beef tongue, beef tripe and beef intestine.

The last part of the menu presents the house specials ($7.95-$39.95), which include everything from an eyebrow-raising "Korean intestine hot pot" to "assorted meat portions" to a seafood pancake. I opted for a green-pepper pancake, a lacy affair about the size of a small pizza, concocted of shredded hot Korean green peppers and bits of carrot dusted with flour and sizzled quickly in a tad of sesame oil. It was spicy, but delicious.

The last part of the menu presents the house specials ($7.95-$39.95), which include everything from an eyebrow-raising "Korean intestine hot pot" to "assorted meat portions" to a seafood pancake. I opted for a green-pepper pancake, a lacy affair about the size of a small pizza, concocted of shredded hot Korean green peppers and bits of carrot dusted with flour and sizzled quickly in a tad of sesame oil. It was spicy, but delicious.

My service was so attentive and my lunch there was so tasty that I'll be going back to try the noodles in a stone pot. You carnivores who think you've tried it all . . . beat a track, the gop chang jun gol is waiting.