American in Orlando

Some of my greatest meal memories are from the original Dexter's in Winter Park. It was there that I discovered my love of sitting around a table for hours with friends, eating, drinking and conversing. The original Dexter's on Fairbanks Avenue was magnificent for this discovery, an absolutely pleasurable spot where you could linger and listen to music, sip wine and enjoy enlivening food.

Then came Dexter's in Thornton Park, which became my morning-after remedy from long nights at the Go Lounge. I loved getting up and riding my bike over to Washington Street to have brunch. There was no better way to nurse a hangover than with a basket of sweet potato chips and a Dexter's "special" – a honey-cured mesquite-smoked turkey sandwich. When the original Dexter's moved to another location, in west Winter Park, I went a couple of times, mostly on dates before the movies or to grab a quick sandwich and tasty salad.

I guess you could say that Dexter's and I have grown up together. Dexter's kind of supplied the comfort food of my early adult life, introducing me to such favorites as buccatini, jerk spice and smoked cheese. So when I heard Dexter's was growing again and moving north to the suburbs, I wasn't sure what to think. I mean, I'm not ready for the suburbs yet. And would it have the same cool warehouse-space feel? Would the food be just as simple and pleasing?

The new Dexter's in Lake Mary suffers a little from what I like to call Multiple Growth Restaurant Syndrome, the pesky disorder that occurs when a restaurant has been getting it right for so long that they become formulaic. Don't worry, though. Dexter's is up and running and handling this minor affliction quite well. The first sign of MGRS is in the restaurant's sterile location in a spanking-new shopping plaza. To get to the restaurant, I had to navigate I-4 up to the Lake Mary exit, then pass by the marquee of a shopping mall and drive past endless rows of parking spaces. There's not much of a chance that I'll wake up on a breezy morning and hop on my bike for a ride over here. Each of the other Dexter's locations is unique in the way the business molds itself to the surroundings. The new entry offers a more manufactured ambience, but my friends and I still found the experience enjoyable in every way. This Dexter's was still the Dexter's I knew and loved.

A beautiful glass wine-storage closet nestled in nicely by the bar, creating the fun, sophisticated flair Dexter's is so well known for. All of the comfort foods I crave were on the new menu, so I had to start with the basket of delicious "cha-cha" chips mixed with sweet chips ($1.95), which always kicks up my appetite.

From the café menu, my friends ordered my beloved garlic buccatini with fresh pesto ($6.95), a delectable mix of Alfredo sauce, basil, pine nuts and thick, hollow egg noodles. We also tried the "low country crab cakes" ($11.95) and our resident Marylander gave them the thumbs-up – flaky and tender, packed with sweet crab flavor and piqued by plenty of fresh red pepper and onion.

We tried some items from the chef's special menu and found them delicious, as well. The chef here has the familiar Dexter's flair for giving comfort-food ingredients an exciting twist. The "chipotle marinated pork tenderloin" ($17.95) was bursting with heady spices such as cumin and cilantro, complementing the smoky aroma of the chipotle pepper. The "grilled filet with Stilton-bacon-demi glace" ($22.95) was steak and potatoes at its best. The fillet, juicy and served medium rare, was compatibly married to the opulent flavors of bacon and blue cheese. All of the dishes were enhanced by the accompaniment of a reasonably priced bottle of Acacia pinot noir. To finish our dinner off, we virtually scarfed the very satisfying and solid crème brûlée ($4.50) and the decadently chocolate "two mousse brownie" ($4.50).

When I got up from my meal I realized that I had, once again, passed a lively two hours with friends at Dexter's. So even if Dexter's has become a bit formulaic, hey, the formula works.

The new Dexter's in Winter Park no longer sells wine for retail, a practice left behind when the hot spot relocated to west Winter Park. Still, the reinvented landmark offers a more elevated wine experience than before, with a sommelier on staff to advance the "captain's list" of rare vintages, stored in a smart, white-washed Chicago-brick vault.

With the oversized French doors open to the streetscape, the dining area is far more roomy. The butcher-block tables and stools have been replaced by low, cherry-wood tables with Art Deco chairs. And there's no shortage of parking (a problem that plagues Dexter's in Thornton Park). The dinner menu remains constant, and the "cafe menu" adds variety with seasonal items, such as the current hickory-smoked tuna tartare ($9.95). And from the buffed cement bar you can try 30 wines by the glass.

Our first mistake was paying six bucks to park in the garage at Universal Studios CityWalk. That's because when we made reservations for Emeril's Restaurant Orlando, nobody told us we could park free at the Hard Rock Cafe. (Emeril's will validate valet stubs, saving $12.)

Our second mistake was forgetting to call and confirm our reservations on the day we were to dine, as we were told to do. So after hiking 10 minutes from the garage, we found ourselves turned away at the host station because we weren't on the list and there were no tables.

But there was no turning back. The host suggested that we return in several hours or go to the bar. We chose the bar, which is small but offers a view of the elaborate show kitchen where TV-celebrity chef Emeril Lagasse himself has been spotted in recent weeks, launching the latest in his restaurant family.

There's no arguing that Lagasse's adopted New Orleans flair is an attention-getter, on the tube and live. And a taste of the menu shows why his cookbooks sell by the millions. Everything we tried was flawlessly prepared and beautifully presented.

The prices are reasonable, considering the quality, except for the small portion – about three bites – of "grilled homemade andouille sausage" for $7.50. But it was the definitive andouille, thanks to Emeril's Worcestershire recipe, which is "kicked up" with anchovies and molasses. The crabmeat strudel also was a hit ($10), topped with hearts of palm and sweet-corn remoulade.

Daily specials play a prominent role, as the restaurant wants to lure the locals back for repeat visits. So far it's working, because 90 percent of the reservations come from residents, we were told. But the permanent menu is filled with incredible selections. Our favorite was the andouille-crusted Texas redfish ($22), dressed with roasted-pecan vegetable relish and teamed with shoestring potatoes.

Veal fans shouldn't miss the 14-ounce grilled chop ($27), served with cheesy grits, capocollo ham and exotic mushroom ragout. The chop was thick and thoroughly cooked but still juicy.

Attention to detail carries through to desserts. We had a luxurious trio of dark-chocolate truffle petit fours with a scoop of hazelnut ice cream ($7).

There is much to like about the casual, contemporary atmosphere, warm and spicy colors, and first-class service. Emeril's has the ingredients to hold your interest; just be sure to get those reservations straight.

Food and film: It's an odd combination, but it works, even if there are a few interruptions while watching the movie. Order staples like buttered popcorn, soft pretzels or chocolate-chip cookies, or get fancy with creative salads, sandwiches and pizzas. The al fresco Eden bar is a good place to grab a cocktail before the show.

Sports bar with an urban vibe and a decor befitting Vern Yip's design portfolio can only do so much to mitigate a disjointed dining experience. Empanadas, onion rings, corn dogs and other finger food faves trump some of the more ambitious offerings, like chicken kebabs, gourmet pizzas and pastitsio. Focus is what's missing, but the restaurant's a work in progress. Open daily.

With more than 20 locations across the country, Fleming's Steakhouse is another in the "upscale chain" concept of restaurants coming from the popular Outback Steakhouse folks (whose other partnerships include Roy's and Bonefish Grill). Paul Fleming, founder of the restaurant bearing his name, came into the business by opening a Ruth's Chris Steak House franchise in Beverly Hills, then moved on to start P.F. Chang's ("P.F.", get it?).

Ironically, Fleming's is sited on the high-traveled intersection of Lee Road and Orlando Avenue, a hop, skip from Ruth's Chris Steakhouse and P.F. Chang's in the Winter Park Village.

Steak was the food of choice for businessmen back when I walked the corporate corridors, and judging by the number of suits in this atmospheric dining room of dark wood and leather, it remains so.

The distinguishing ingredient of the Fleming's chain is its multipage wine menu, with every vintage available by the glass, one that's the size of your head. And since everything is big here in Steak-house Land, the cuts of meat range from a four-inch-high "petite" filet mignon ($23.95) to a humongous 22-ounce bone-in rib eye.

The miniature mignon came to the table as rare as any red-meat lover could hope, an aged hand-cut as thick as a brick that was almost fork-tender, except for a cord of gristle that ran down one corner (which probably only proves that the meat wasn't processed). A starter of "wicked Cajun" shrimp ($10.95) found four large, slightly undercooked shrimp bathed in a pleasingly spicy garlic butter.

As is the fashion, side dishes are extra and, like everything from entrées to desserts, enormous. The platter of sautéed spinach, cooked in brown butter with red onion, is enough for four people; and a smooth and spicy creamed-corn dish with two cheeses would take a family to finish (both $4.95). The baked potatoes are big enough to have Wilson stamped on the side.

Those taking a break from beef can find a select offering of fish or chicken. The "tuna mignon" ($24.95) was just as thick as the petite filet, perhaps too thick to do such a lovely piece of fish justice, as the center was not just rare but ice-cold.

Our waitress was friendly and casual, albeit terribly busy, which pretty much describes the room itself. At least while Fleming's is a new draw for the culinary curious, reservations are mandatory for timely seating. But full service is offered at the booths in the bar area, and at the bar itself, so you might be able to sneak in past the waiting throngs. Steak lovers won't be disappointed.

There's an abundance of painfully obvious jokes to be endured when you invite a bunch of wise-asses to lunch at a hospital cafeteria. But the superspread at Florida Hospital Orlando had them eating their words and more.

It's no secret on the health-food circuit that vegetarian and generally healthy food can be found here, thanks to the dietary observances of the founding Seventh Day Adventists. But faux-meat dishes, real chocolate brownies and coffee with caffeine (refills encouraged) can also be found in the dizzying spread that starts with a pizza/pasta station.

It's no secret on the health-food circuit that vegetarian and generally healthy food can be found here, thanks to the dietary observances of the founding Seventh Day Adventists. But faux-meat dishes, real chocolate brownies and coffee with caffeine (refills encouraged) can also be found in the dizzying spread that starts with a pizza/pasta station.

At the wok station, a steaming medley of green beans, mushrooms, yellow squash and onions ($1.40) tasted as good as it looked. Seasonings are predictably mild, even in the "vegetarian-chicken" chimichanga ($1.40). And the mauve-colored mystery meat(less) in the Reuben made for good conversation.