American in Orlando

Sometimes it seems like beef lovers might end up with smokers and cell phone users -- out on the sidewalk (the cell phone part is wishful thinking). But there is at least one place where the burger connoisseur can indulge without fear of vegan reprisal.

Johnny's Fillin' Station (2631 S. Fern Creek Ave., 407-894-6900) has been serving beer, burgers and baseball for over a decade. And those who throw oaths at such things swear by the half-pound bombers that come off Johnny's grill. Everything from patties plain and bacon-laden, to those served on Texas toast or grilled rye bread, to "The Roy," complete with sour cream, jalapeños and cheese, is on the menu.

Johnny's Fillin' Station (2631 S. Fern Creek Ave., 407-894-6900) has been serving beer, burgers and baseball for over a decade. And those who throw oaths at such things swear by the half-pound bombers that come off Johnny's grill. Everything from patties plain and bacon-laden, to those served on Texas toast or grilled rye bread, to "The Roy," complete with sour cream, jalapeños and cheese, is on the menu.

The odd few customers not accustomed to beef on a roll can order the Philly-cheesesteak-like "Station chicken," salads or nachos. But eight beers on tap should keep everyone happy.

The first thing that strikes you about Uncle Henry's is that it's a happy place. You're greeted with a smile from a man in a bright, button-down shirt, and your chair is pulled out for you when you sit. The plastic flowers that adorn the inside are colorful.

This oasis of cheer, coincidentally enough, is nestled in the heart of the city's Parramore redevelopment effort, on the ground floor of the Hughes Supply building on West Church Street. All around this epicenter of development, there is poverty and a history of failed attempts to make things better. But Uncle Henry's is happy, so you want to be as well.

This oasis of cheer, coincidentally enough, is nestled in the heart of the city's Parramore redevelopment effort, on the ground floor of the Hughes Supply building on West Church Street. All around this epicenter of development, there is poverty and a history of failed attempts to make things better. But Uncle Henry's is happy, so you want to be as well.

The menu advertises "'The Best' Soups & Homemade Pies," so my companion and I ordered the soup of the day, black bean and rice, for an appetizer ($1.95 cup). The soup was hearty enough, thick with rice and beans, but the beans were a little too hard for my taste, almost crunchy, and the soup itself was ordinary.

The menu advertises "'The Best' Soups & Homemade Pies," so my companion and I ordered the soup of the day, black bean and rice, for an appetizer ($1.95 cup). The soup was hearty enough, thick with rice and beans, but the beans were a little too hard for my taste, almost crunchy, and the soup itself was ordinary.

For an entree, I decided to go for the "served all day" breakfast – namely, "The Cha Cha omelet" ($4.75) that our waitress suggested. ("Only the HOT want me!" the menu cautioned.) The Cha Cha comes with ham, Jack cheese, hash browns, green peppers and a "calypso sauce" that seemed to be nothing more than a moderately spicy salsa.

For an entree, I decided to go for the "served all day" breakfast – namely, "The Cha Cha omelet" ($4.75) that our waitress suggested. ("Only the HOT want me!" the menu cautioned.) The Cha Cha comes with ham, Jack cheese, hash browns, green peppers and a "calypso sauce" that seemed to be nothing more than a moderately spicy salsa.

The Cha Cha was delicious, though calling it spicy is something of a stretch. It was large enough that I couldn't finish the entire thing – and I have a healthy appetite – and sufficiently loaded with peppers and hash browns to keep my taste buds intrigued. My one complaint would be that the cheese wasn't melted enough, but next time I'll ask for it that way. The accompanying grits and rye toast were done right, and once I loaded the grits with salt – because, you know, grits need salt – and melted butter, it made for a wonderful, filling meal.

The Cha Cha was delicious, though calling it spicy is something of a stretch. It was large enough that I couldn't finish the entire thing – and I have a healthy appetite – and sufficiently loaded with peppers and hash browns to keep my taste buds intrigued. My one complaint would be that the cheese wasn't melted enough, but next time I'll ask for it that way. The accompanying grits and rye toast were done right, and once I loaded the grits with salt – because, you know, grits need salt – and melted butter, it made for a wonderful, filling meal.

My companion ordered the tuna salad sandwich ($4.75), which she found most excellent. The bread was properly toasted, and the tuna was fresh. The potato chips that came with it, on the other hand, were crumbled up. Again, however, the sandwich was more than enough to satisfy her appetite.

My companion ordered the tuna salad sandwich ($4.75), which she found most excellent. The bread was properly toasted, and the tuna was fresh. The potato chips that came with it, on the other hand, were crumbled up. Again, however, the sandwich was more than enough to satisfy her appetite.

So we left, full and happy – which, I gather, is exactly the idea.

As classic American diners give way to more modern renditions, the wails of purists can be heard resonating from stainless-steel-and-Formica-heaped graveyards scattered about the city. People still lament the loss of Pauly's Diner, in the Mills 50 area; MetroWest's Le Peep; the downtown Burger Boy Diner; and, more recently, Bakely's Restaurant in Winter Park. In the case of the latter, it was pretty clear that when Bakely's ceased baking in favor of serving mediocre Greek fare, its very survival was endangered. So when word came that Keke's Breakfast Cafe was moving into the space, even counter-crouchers had cause to celebrate. Middle-aged waitresses and their familiar refrains ("Need a refill, sugar?" and "Leave room for pie, hon?") are no longer heard, but no one seems to mind.

On two separate weekend visits, Keke's was packed to its cappuccino-colored brim with a diverse patronage of seniors, families and sophisticated urbanites. Indeed, Keke's tagline "It's like your hometown diner grew up and went to the city" certainly rings true, and it's a vision bolstered by the cafe's sleek present-day stylings and service provided by a young and effusive wait staff.

The plop of a syrup-filled squeeze bottle onto the table made me wonder if its contents were real or some sort of Aunt Jemima swill. Keke's Breakfast Cafe is a rebranding of the Florida Waffle Shop, the Mall at Millenia-area restaurant that served me the very same corn-syrup sludge almost four years ago so, sadly, I already knew the answer. Our sympathetic server encouraged us to prod the manager to serve the real deal – we did and were assured that maple syrup would make its way to Keke's tables in the near future. 

Not that the satisfying banana-nut-caramel waffle ($8.99), or the enormous banana-chocolate chip pancake ($7.99) needed any. A little bit of butter (real butter, thankfully) was all the two griddled goodies required to impress. Also making an impression was the simple breakfast "salad" ($3.99), a leafless bowl of tart yogurt, granola, bananas, strawberries, blueberries and honey that demonstrated how the whole can be greater than the sum of its parts. When it came to the basics -- eggs, bacon and home fries -- the kitchen, once again, excelled as all items passed morning muster.

Rumor had it that lunchtime selections (the burgers, specifically) weren't prepared as well in Winter Park as they were at the Millenia-adjacent locale. Rest assured, if you're craving a cheeseburger ($8.99), you won't be disappointed. Yes, the side of ho-hum fries ($2.49) left something to be desired and the uncrisp onion rings ($2.49) were a disappointment, even with a side of Texas petal sauce, but the burger? Solid. That the cheese steak ($8.99) was served between slices of bread instead of in a hoagie roll was a little puzzling but it, too, was a worthy noontime option.

It's clear that Keke's is out to set itself apart in the burgeoning upscale breakfast market, but with upscale sensibilities come prices to match, a trait not lost on budget-conscious diners. To the franchise's credit, its attitude, like its food, is undoubtedly fresh and the market, at least initially, appears to be responding. For Keke's, that's key.

It's clear that Keke's is out to set itself apart in the burgeoning upscale breakfast market, but with upscale sensibilities come prices to match, a trait not lost on budget-conscious diners. To the franchise's credit, its attitude, like its food, is undoubtedly fresh and the market, at least initially, appears to be responding. For Keke's, that's key.

In the world of the Hard Rock corporation, waitresses are encouraged to lead lives tantamount to those of rock stars. I should know; I used to work there. The company was so insistent on their cozy star status that they psyched employees into believing that working there equaled partying with stars every night. That was 10 years ago. Today, Hard Rock is all grown up and offers a place not to party with celebrities, but to eat like them.

The Kitchen is tucked away on the bottom floor, near the pool, of the chic Hard Rock Hotel. Walking in, the first thing one sees is a sleek modern kitchen offset by a bar, which is really a chef's table. That one sliver of the expansive dining room alone feels like the cooking quarters in a dream home - which is exactly the Hard Rock's intent.

"The hotel is designed to look like a rock star's mansion," the PR rep tells me. "The kitchen is where he'd go to whip up a late-night snack."

Just like its famous sister restaurant, Hard Rock Café, The Kitchen is decked out with kitschy memorabilia, but here rock & roll meets culinary utensils. Who wouldn't at least glance at the oddity of a spatula signed by Mike Love from the Beach Boys? Or a black chef's jacket with leopard-print trim made exclusively for Joan Jett? When a cheese grater was presented to us at the beginning of the meal, it took a minute to figure out that it was actually a menu for the specials. Even the tables are made of stainless steel countertops like those found at stove-side workstations.

By all means, bring the kids along. One of the best things about The Kitchen is that there's something for everyone. The food is largely of the comfort variety, and there are family favorites with trendy twists. Macaroni and cheese ($10.25) is made with Spanish manchego; fried calamari ($9.95) is served fusion-style with Asian slaw and Thai dipping sauce; filet mignon ($24) is drenched in delicious Argentinean chimichurri sauce. But there's no need to waste all this good food on the chicken-tender specialists. The Kitchen has a buffet just for the younger generation that is stockpiled with pizza and other kid-friendly delights. Not only that, but there's a rec room dedicated to their needs, as well. While you're civilly nibbling Asian vegetable rolls ($7.95) and conversing about the world at large, the kids can crowd around colorful games and toys, devouring fries from special TV trays.

At times, not enough care is taken with some components of this otherwise tasty menu. The bacon on the iceberg wedge ($7.95) was so overcooked and salty that I felt as though I was chewing on jerky. Two pieces of tuna on the plate of charred ahi seemed to come from different fish, one a princess of the sea and the other her evil stepsister. I was not impressed with dessert: We tried s'mores and bread pudding, both too big and way over the top.

Among the tasty adult selections, I tried the crab cakes ($9.95), two fresh discs of sweet crabmeat tenderly fried and served alongside golden corn bread and clever Old Bay rémoulade. Peanut-crusted chicken wings ($8.95) were served in a pail with the longest celery sticks I've ever seen. The presentation was cute, but unfortunately the pasty layer of Buffalo barbecue sauce was cloying. The seafood chowder ($15.95) was excellent, bursting with grouper, shrimp and scallops; the rich, creamy sauce still allowed the taste of delicate leeks and corn to shine through. Likewise, a plate of charred ahi tuna ($23) allowed both rich and light flavors to work in harmony. A sesame rice cake was not overpowered by wasabi cream and pickled ginger, but enhanced by the tangy sharpness.

At The Kitchen, you may not brush elbows with rock stars, but you are certainly eating in surroundings that make you feel like one yourself.

This November, Kres gets its proverbial star on the Red Meat Walk of Fame when it joins the ranks of other Orlando steakhouses celebrating 10 years in the business of beef. Quite the accomplishment for a high-end chophouse that a) opened in the heart of a bar- and club-infested strip, and b) had the audacity to shun the established practice of possessive nomenclature. In the world of Ruth’s and Linda’s, Morton’s and Charley’s, Christner’s, Shula’s and Vito’s, Kres is the odd man out, and that suits this downtown boîte just fine.

From the onset, Kres looked to draw a more urbane and sophisticated clientele, and, save for the smattering of pre-clubbing 1-percenters, this tactic, even 10 years later, appears to have worked. The turn-of-the-21st-century decor feels slightly dated and perhaps a redesign is in order, but Kres is still worthy of being housed inside one of downtown’s most architecturally revered buildings – not just for its bill of fare, but also for its throwback focus on customer service. From our initial phone call to make reservations to the genial farewells on our exit, the staff here made us feel prized – as prized as, say, an expensive foie gras. No: foie gras crowning a tenderloin of elk! Yes. And that just so happened to be one of the dishes in which we indulged: an 8-ounce cut ($35), to be exact. Cooked to a perfect medium-rare, the lean elk loin was made instantly rich with that buttery tiara of foie ($13). Nary a hint of gaminess; no dental-displacing sinews; just a perfect cut married perfectly with that buttery epicurean delight. Our prime 18-ounce rib-eye steak ($39) may have been a tad undercooked, but that just made the leftovers all the better the following morning in their rebirth as steak and eggs. The rib-eye’s marbling was sublime, and its flavor more so. Steaks and chops are served a la carte; our choice of greens and starch sides were grilled asparagus ($8) and cheddar-rosemary mashed potatoes ($7). Though both served their respective purpose, we would’ve rather ordered another side of foie.

Prior to all that luxurious richness, we started with an old-guard staple – oysters Rockefeller ($15), baked with a properly herbaceous butter sauce. Our impeccably trained server also suggested a nontraditional starter to break up our Gatsbian feast, namely “Aegean style” lamb ribs ($14). The ribs are marinated in kalamata olive oil, spicy mustard and herbs, then braised to a soft succulence before being zested with caramelized lemon wheels. It’s a difficult dish to eat delicately, but then again, steakhouses don’t exactly play to the genteel side of dining.

Our server’s suggested wine pairings were admirable, though in-house sommelier Rob Christie patrols the red-velveted space offering recommendations for serious wine drinkers. Red velvet didn’t find its way to the dessert menu, but white chocolate bread pudding ($9) did. The meal-capper was sumptuous, ample enough for two, and hooched with enough panther sweat to bring back the Jazz Age.

As you exit the restaurant and take in the grand space, the original art, the triple-crown and dentil-crown molding, one thing becomes exceedingly clear: Kres naturally exudes a verve and panache that other steakhouses can’t match. If flair is as important as your filet, Kres is the place.

Take one look at the decor in LaSpada's cafeteria-style eatery, and you'd probably guess they sell cheese steak and hoagies even if you didn't read the full name. Posters of the Rocky films, Phillies memorabilia, New York Yankees hate speech ' the kitschy charm doesn't make a great sandwich, but it helps while you wait for one. 

The 6-inch steak supreme ($5.75) crams chopped steak, onions, green peppers, mushrooms and white American cheese into a tiny roll, making it a seasoned, cheesy mess that's worth grabbing a fork for. On the cold side, a 6-inch LaSpada's Famous ($5.95) stacks five different meats, including prosciutto and capicola, on provolone cheese and vegetables, creating a sandwich that's tasty but challenging thanks to the super-salty cold cuts. Sides include a couple of homemade salads for 95 cents each: The potato is sadly bland, but you may want to grab a large portion of the creamy macaroni.

We didn't expect to be greeted with a remote beeper and a 20-minute wait for a table when we arrived at Le Peep on a Saturday morning. But then, it was our first visit, and those who live in the Bay Hill/Dr. Phillips area were way ahead of us. In fact, Le Peep has been packing them in for 12 years at the intersection of Kirkman and Conroy/Windermere roads.

Le Peep was originally an upscale Aspen breakfast spot, founded by a ski buff who wanted to pay the bills and hit the slopes in the afternoon. As the restaurant has expanded into a national chain, some of the individual charm has given way to formulas and concepts. The menu reads like a series of cutesy one-liners, many of them trademarked, like the "pampered eggs," "berry patch waffles," "Sir Benedict omelettes" and "proud bird" chicken sandwiches.

Le Peep was originally an upscale Aspen breakfast spot, founded by a ski buff who wanted to pay the bills and hit the slopes in the afternoon. As the restaurant has expanded into a national chain, some of the individual charm has given way to formulas and concepts. The menu reads like a series of cutesy one-liners, many of them trademarked, like the "pampered eggs," "berry patch waffles," "Sir Benedict omelettes" and "proud bird" chicken sandwiches.

We were won over by the muffins. "Gooey buns" ($1.95) are nothing like they sound. They're actually English muffins transformed into toasted-brown-sugar-and-cinnamon rolls, and served with a dollop of cream cheese and a side of baked apples.

We were won over by the muffins. "Gooey buns" ($1.95) are nothing like they sound. They're actually English muffins transformed into toasted-brown-sugar-and-cinnamon rolls, and served with a dollop of cream cheese and a side of baked apples.

The dining area is a step up from a Denny's or a Perkins, with patio seating and umbrellas over some of the tables. Every table was filled, so the waiters were on their toes. But with an ever-present crowd of people waiting in line out front, there was understandably more emphasis on turning tables than encouraging customers to linger.

The dining area is a step up from a Denny's or a Perkins, with patio seating and umbrellas over some of the tables. Every table was filled, so the waiters were on their toes. But with an ever-present crowd of people waiting in line out front, there was understandably more emphasis on turning tables than encouraging customers to linger.

With dozens of combinations of omelets, skillet dishes, French toast, Belgian waffles and pancakes, there's something for everyone here. Some of it is original, like the "granola blues" pancakes that have crunch thanks to the blueberry granola ($4.55). But even better are the pancakes textured with sliced bananas and crumbled Southern pecans ($4.15).

With dozens of combinations of omelets, skillet dishes, French toast, Belgian waffles and pancakes, there's something for everyone here. Some of it is original, like the "granola blues" pancakes that have crunch thanks to the blueberry granola ($4.55). But even better are the pancakes textured with sliced bananas and crumbled Southern pecans ($4.15).

By comparison, "original French toast" ($4.50) isn't as exciting as the menu's detailed description. The thick slices of Vienna bread, soaked in custard batter and grilled until light and golden, taste like plain old French toast.

By comparison, "original French toast" ($4.50) isn't as exciting as the menu's detailed description. The thick slices of Vienna bread, soaked in custard batter and grilled until light and golden, taste like plain old French toast.

Many items are featured with hollandaise sauce, and a little bit of caution might be in order here. A heavy helping of the sauce weighed down an otherwise fine seafood skillet crepe ($6.15), which was filled with crabmeat, broccoli and veggies. On the side, "peasant potatoes" were a lame rendition of diced potatoes that tasted dry and flavorless.

Many items are featured with hollandaise sauce, and a little bit of caution might be in order here. A heavy helping of the sauce weighed down an otherwise fine seafood skillet crepe ($6.15), which was filled with crabmeat, broccoli and veggies. On the side, "peasant potatoes" were a lame rendition of diced potatoes that tasted dry and flavorless.

The "light" omelets are quite good, made with whipped egg-whites and light cheddar cheese. We liked "white lightning" ($6.15), a Southwestern version with chicken, green chiles and guacamole.

The "light" omelets are quite good, made with whipped egg-whites and light cheddar cheese. We liked "white lightning" ($6.15), a Southwestern version with chicken, green chiles and guacamole.

And if you're a fan of fresh-squeezed orange juice, Le Peep offers one of the best deals in town. A half-liter carafe ($2.95) easily serves two, and then some.

And if you're a fan of fresh-squeezed orange juice, Le Peep offers one of the best deals in town. A half-liter carafe ($2.95) easily serves two, and then some.

With its wide variety of breakfast and brunch meals, Le Peep fills a niche in the high-traffic area. But there isn't anything new going on here that would drive hungry brunchers to traveling extremes.

Never say what a restaurant is not. Writing that one restaurant would be better if it were more like another is unfair and pointless. So I won't say that the Market Street Café in Celebration is not Dexter's or Tu Tu Tango or even the College Park Diner because -- of course -- it is none of those things.

I can say that the Market Street Café is not Max's Café. That's because Max's is gone and Market Street has taken its place. The new cafe is being run by Restaurant Partners Inc., which operates four Pebbles restaurants around Orlando. They've done a good job of assimilating the old-days' Celebration atmosphere. If halogen lights and computers had been around in the '50s, Market Street would have fit right in with its retro-modern diner design. Big booths, wide windows and earth tones prevail, making the place something of an upscale, new-urban greasy spoon.

I can say that the Market Street Café is not Max's Café. That's because Max's is gone and Market Street has taken its place. The new cafe is being run by Restaurant Partners Inc., which operates four Pebbles restaurants around Orlando. They've done a good job of assimilating the old-days' Celebration atmosphere. If halogen lights and computers had been around in the '50s, Market Street would have fit right in with its retro-modern diner design. Big booths, wide windows and earth tones prevail, making the place something of an upscale, new-urban greasy spoon.

The eatery is the antithesis of existentialism. One doesn't wear black, drink bitter espresso and read Kierkegaard at Market Street. You order a shake and a burger -- and are happy if you get the special round booth by the front door so you can watch resident Celebrants buzz by on rented electric scooters. I heard one of the waitresses, who was about half my age, say "groovy." Another server must have done well in Celebration Diner school, as she made a point of calling me "hon."

The eatery is the antithesis of existentialism. One doesn't wear black, drink bitter espresso and read Kierkegaard at Market Street. You order a shake and a burger -- and are happy if you get the special round booth by the front door so you can watch resident Celebrants buzz by on rented electric scooters. I heard one of the waitresses, who was about half my age, say "groovy." Another server must have done well in Celebration Diner school, as she made a point of calling me "hon."

I'm not complaining, mind you. The Market Street Café is pleasant, just not very exciting. Regardless of whatever preconceptions you may have walking in, the food is prepared well and nothing seems processed. Market Street serves turkey with cornbread stuffing and meatloaf with mashed potatoes. They're so traditional that you'll be tempted to see if mom is in the kitchen.

I'm not complaining, mind you. The Market Street Café is pleasant, just not very exciting. Regardless of whatever preconceptions you may have walking in, the food is prepared well and nothing seems processed. Market Street serves turkey with cornbread stuffing and meatloaf with mashed potatoes. They're so traditional that you'll be tempted to see if mom is in the kitchen.

Salads and "starters" are enormous. "Portobello" salad ($5.95 small, $9.95 large) is a dinner plate piled high with romaine, diced tomato, slivers of Gouda, corn and big slices of mushroom with a sun-dried tomato vinaigrette. Order the small. A cheese quesadilla ($5.95) is as big as your head, and if you order fried-chicken tenders (simple white meat rolled in cornflake breading, $6.95) as an appetizer, don't bother with an entrée.

Salads and "starters" are enormous. "Portobello" salad ($5.95 small, $9.95 large) is a dinner plate piled high with romaine, diced tomato, slivers of Gouda, corn and big slices of mushroom with a sun-dried tomato vinaigrette. Order the small. A cheese quesadilla ($5.95) is as big as your head, and if you order fried-chicken tenders (simple white meat rolled in cornflake breading, $6.95) as an appetizer, don't bother with an entrée.

I had the smoked chicken pasta ($11.95). The definition of "pasta" is spaghetti, but it was firm to the tooth and dressed in a pleasant wine and garlic sauce -- lots of garlic. The meatloaf ($10.95) was covered in brown mushroom gravy almost as dark as cocoa, with excellent homemade potatoes.

I had the smoked chicken pasta ($11.95). The definition of "pasta" is spaghetti, but it was firm to the tooth and dressed in a pleasant wine and garlic sauce -- lots of garlic. The meatloaf ($10.95) was covered in brown mushroom gravy almost as dark as cocoa, with excellent homemade potatoes.

If you're looking for an undemanding meal in a "smallville," you might consider the drive.