Locations in Orlando

I've always considered Irish food to be similar to British food in the sense that it's something you eat because you're already at the pub, have had a few pints and don't feel like driving somewhere else to get a real meal. So it's bangers and mash, maybe a shepherd's pie, to soak up the hooch and settle the stomach; not bad, but not stellar. It'll do.

Now that I have been to Raglan Road, an Irish pub and restaurant at Disney's Pleasure Island, however, I'm going to have to reconsider that assessment. Their Irish fare is tasty enough to entice a teetotaler into a pub, and I now understand that there is no excuse for mediocre Irish food.

My expectations of the place, frankly, were low. Given the location, I assumed they were slinging the same old Emerald Isle standards at the tourists and doubling the prices. Surely the menu would be nothing but boiled this and cabbage that, heavy on the corned beef and a crock of stew on the side.

But once inside the place, I quickly sensed that it was not a typical Americanized Irish pub, and it turned out that it wasn't. While walking back to our table after a short wait, the chatty hostess informed us that the room we were dining in was actually an Irish estate house, disassembled there and shipped here piece by piece. The furniture is all antique, and the framed photos hanging on the dark wooden walls are authentic. The result is an amazingly cozy atmosphere for such a large restaurant.

We started with an appetizer named "Smokie City" ($10.95) which sounded sketchy ("oven baked layers of smoked cod with mature Wexford cheddar and double cream") but turned out to be brilliant. The smoked cod, dense and lovely, was offset perfectly by the tangy cheddar sauce in which it swam. We lapped up every bite, smearing it like a spread on large slices of crusty sourdough, then turned the crock over to get the last few drops.

Entree No. 1 was "Planxty" ($19.95), a dish that I ordered because I liked the name. What I got was roast pork shank poking up out of a bed of mashed potatoes, with a side of apple chutney. About that roast pork: When the meat falls off the bone before you can get it on the fork, it's tender. And this was tender. The chutney added a note of sweetness, and the potatoes were nice and lumpy, so no complaints at all. It was a very satisfying dish.

Entree No. 2, "It's Not Bleedin' Chowder," was similarly expensive ($19.95) and just as good. The name is supposedly a quote from the chef when he was asked exactly what the dish was, which is a rich mix of scallops, fish, mussels and prawns, mixed in a white wine sauce infused with saffron and finished with cream. At that price it better not be bleedin' chowder, and it better not look like anything that came out of a can. It wasn't, and it didn't. The seafood was fresh, the sauce was tangy and lively, and I can't recall having tasted a better fish stew, if you can call it that.

The only item that disappointed was the bowl of "Down the Middle" ($5.50), a hearty but bland tomato and vegetable broth soup. That was for the vegetarian in the family, because there wasn't much else on the menu she could eat.

Dessert, which took almost 20 minutes to get to the table for some reason, was "Ger's Bread & Butter Pudding" ($7.99). I'm not much of a bread pudding fan, which is exactly why I ordered it. So far the meal had exceeded all my expectations. Would dessert disappoint? Not a chance. Ger, whoever he/she may be, has concocted a heavenly bread pudding. It comes out in a warm crock with tiny pitchers of butter and butterscotch that you add yourself, as much or as little as you like. The sourdough bread soaks it up, and you get a raisin-infused mush that's sweet, rich and cinnamony. Once again I upended the serving dish to coax out the last drop.

This being Disney, there's entertainment in the form of table dancing and an Irish band. But that's just dressing. This is a pub you can come into for dinner, and maybe hang around to grab a Guinness or two or three.

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.

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.

The Disney community of Celebration, steeped in 1950's atmosphere and designer architecture, isn't a place one would associate with English high tea or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Yet this is the place that two Londoners have decided to open a tearoom filled with Sherlock Holmes memorabilia and the aroma of Earl Grey.

Tony David worked right next to the Sherlock Holmes Museum in London for many years and came to Florida with the aim of bringing a unique experience to Celebration. He and his wife June opened Sherlock's not on tourist-attractive Market

Tony David worked right next to the Sherlock Holmes Museum in London for many years and came to Florida with the aim of bringing a unique experience to Celebration. He and his wife June opened Sherlock's not on tourist-attractive Market

Street, but on Bloom Street. It's a small, intimate shop packed to the ceiling with deerstalker-capped bears, boxes of loose tea, a diverse selection of wines and miniatures of Sherlock, Watson and Moriarty. The room holds only a few tables, but the outdoor courtyard affords a delightful place for a hot cuppa and a serene lake view.

Street, but on Bloom Street. It's a small, intimate shop packed to the ceiling with deerstalker-capped bears, boxes of loose tea, a diverse selection of wines and miniatures of Sherlock, Watson and Moriarty. The room holds only a few tables, but the outdoor courtyard affords a delightful place for a hot cuppa and a serene lake view.

Most Yankees know little about what goes into a proper English tea ("tea" is the entire meal, not just the drink), something David is emphatic about. "Serving loose tea is an art form," he says. "You must heat the pot first, and steep the leaves for only five minutes." And if you're in the company of Brits, never put the milk in first (milky tea is the lifeblood of the English.) The teas at Sherlock's come in four formal varieties, the largest being "Sherlock Holmes' Tea" ($13.50). The three-tiered tray had other customers peering in envy at the buttercream-rich pastries and moist, rich scones (it's "skon," not "skown"), and these are the best in Orlando. An authentic "tea" would have had little finger sandwiches instead of spinach pies and egg rolls, but I guess it's a compromise for Americans. The other offerings are smaller versions, the "Mrs. Hudson's" being the best value of a fresh pot of tea (your choice of variety) with homemade scones, real Devon cream and strawberry jam ($6.95).

Most Yankees know little about what goes into a proper English tea ("tea" is the entire meal, not just the drink), something David is emphatic about. "Serving loose tea is an art form," he says. "You must heat the pot first, and steep the leaves for only five minutes." And if you're in the company of Brits, never put the milk in first (milky tea is the lifeblood of the English.) The teas at Sherlock's come in four formal varieties, the largest being "Sherlock Holmes' Tea" ($13.50). The three-tiered tray had other customers peering in envy at the buttercream-rich pastries and moist, rich scones (it's "skon," not "skown"), and these are the best in Orlando. An authentic "tea" would have had little finger sandwiches instead of spinach pies and egg rolls, but I guess it's a compromise for Americans. The other offerings are smaller versions, the "Mrs. Hudson's" being the best value of a fresh pot of tea (your choice of variety) with homemade scones, real Devon cream and strawberry jam ($6.95).

The hot items are still in the shakeout stage. "Vegetable egg roll delight" ($7.95), three crisp rolls filled with julienned veggies, were tasty, but nothing I'd travel out of my way to eat. Meanwhile the microwave does nothing to enhance the puff-pastry shell of the tiny "brie en croute" ($6.95).

The hot items are still in the shakeout stage. "Vegetable egg roll delight" ($7.95), three crisp rolls filled with julienned veggies, were tasty, but nothing I'd travel out of my way to eat. Meanwhile the microwave does nothing to enhance the puff-pastry shell of the tiny "brie en croute" ($6.95).

There are more than enough other venues for egg rolls; Sherlock's should be your destination for a real tea in the grand English manner.

Stardust started life as a video rental place that served coffee and over the years has morphed to serve the changing desires of the community. Among its many functions (work and study spot, café, live music venue, market host) and despite its ramshackle air, the ’dust is prized by anyone looking for a quality buzz. The bartenders of the Slanted and Enchanted Bar (in the big room) are given free rein to come up with inventive craft cocktails; the Scotch Bar (in the smaller room) stocks exquisite bottles; and the bottled beer and cider selection is choice. For many, it’s a home away from home.

We are a full-service nightclub specializing in nightly events, including live music, DJs and dancing.

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.