Sandwiches/Subs in Winter Park Area

Tucked away in the Hidden Gardens area of Park Avenue is a shiny new place for noontime snacking, appropriately called The Lunch Box. The sandwich shop is an extension of Olive This, Relish That, the quirky tapenade, jam and foodstuff place owned by the Doggie Door folks. So call this the People Door, if you will.

Wind through the back courtyard of the Hidden Gardens or walk right in to the front door of Olive This, Relish That for yummy sandwiches made with prime rib and mushrooms sauteed in vermouth; tarragon chicken salad (get there early, this one sells out); or grilled Italian bread with fontina cheese and peppers.

Wind through the back courtyard of the Hidden Gardens or walk right in to the front door of Olive This, Relish That for yummy sandwiches made with prime rib and mushrooms sauteed in vermouth; tarragon chicken salad (get there early, this one sells out); or grilled Italian bread with fontina cheese and peppers.

Build your own from specialty breads such as black olive or ciabatta rolls, and add a vegetable, ham and pasta salad and a fresh-baked cookie, and you've got something great to pack into your own tin pail.

A garden of leafy delights awaits at Eden’s, a clean, spacious green house on North Orange sandwiched between Winnie’s Oriental Garden and the Ravenous Pig. The focus here is on the body (healthy food), spirit (a place for quiet reflection and artistic expression) and mind (free Wi-Fi), though their wraps and salads really take center stage. The blues and greens of the interior reflect the colors of the sky, plants and water, but are also reminiscent of an Aegean café, which may have induced me to order the Athena ($4.80). The mélange of greens, kalamata olives, tomatoes, cukes, peppers, snow peas and feta can be stuffed in a wrap or enjoyed as a traditional bowl of salad. I opted for the former (in a tomato-basil wrap) and had some lemon-pepper chicken thrown in for an additional $2. The flavors were rightfully tangy, if a tad salty. I really liked the Daisy ($4.80), a refreshingly sweet and delightfully nutty salad that I enjoyed sans wrap. Mandarin oranges and strawberries provided the pop, almonds and sunflower seeds the crunch and raspberry vinaigrette the invigorating splash.

There are 11 different salads from which to choose, and if none tickles your fancy, create your own from Eden’s 37 available “tossings” and 12 dressings. Counter service can slow considerably during the lunch rush, but that’ll give you a chance to peruse the original artwork and sayings on the walls. Oh, and if you’re looking for a little quiet reflection, the consistent chatter and piped-in music could foil any meditative urges. It should be noted that the items above, though ordered “small,” were enormous portions, but really – eating too much salad is like taking too many naps; how bad for you could it possibly be?

They're heavy on the Philly at Famous Phil's: names of city landmarks on the wallpaper, photos of the city everywhere, recent issues of Philadelphia magazine on the tables. The connection's even in the slogan, just in case you missed it: "Real Philly people making real Philly cheese steaks." (The editor in me wonders: Are they real people from Philly, or are they people who are really from Philly?)

So these had better be some fine cheese steaks, right? After all, one does not invoke the hometown of the cheese steak lightly.

On that score, Phil's is hit and miss. The cheese steaks themselves ($2.99 to $5.25) are good; not great, but a notch above the cheese steaks you'll get at, say, a sub shop. They crank 'em out right out in the open on a big flat grill, and the smell of searing beef and frying onions brings back fond memories of carnivals past. I found the meat flavorful but dry, not sopping and juicy the way a memorable sandwich should be.

Then there's everything else at Phil's. I had an all-American hoagie ($3.99) that was the most uninspired sub I've encountered outside of a Subway. The Italian wedding soup ($1.99) was indistinguishable from canned, and the onion rings ($1.89) were mushy on the inside and left a puddle of grease in the bottom of the container.

The place was packed with Full Sail students, and most of them were eating cheese steaks; the wise move is to do the same and not stray too far down the menu.

If you were turned off by the Geek Easy when it first opened, with its fluorescent lighting and weird membership fee, it’s definitely time to revisit the place. Recent renovations have doubled the space, the lighting is now at an appropriate level, and the selection of beer and “cocktails” is both varied and cheap. Various events occur weekly, from comedy to trivia to the aforementioned karaoke, making good use of the new stage and PA.

Creperies appear to be blossoming all over the city, be they comfortable restaurants like Pointe Orlando's La Creperia Café or humble food carts like downtown's Crepe Company. Winter Park's Green Lemon Café likely falls into the fast-casual category, but husband-and-wife owners Amanda and Rob Volence certainly don't foster a dine-and-dash mentality. Like the cooks, they're always up for a chat; during quieter moments, the original paintings hanging on the café's colorful walls beg for a closer examination and, if one's wallet allows, purchase. But unlike the art, the food served here won't break the bank ' most items hover around the $7 mark, offering affordability without sacrificing taste. A plus: Only Boar's Head meats are used in their savory crepes, salads, sandwiches and paninis ' a definite notch above the grade of meat offered a couple of doors down at Subway. And with the Whole Foods Market in the same shopping plaza, Green Lemon should, theoretically, have a steady base of customers filtering out of the grocery store's doors and into theirs.

In fact, a few happened to walk in the evening of my visit proclaiming ignorance of the café's existence, grabbing a few takeout menus, then enviously peering at the pesto-heavy chicken Florentine crepe ($7.50) I was so gleefully devouring. The thin-fried envelope packed a flavorful wallop with a proper proportion of chicken, spinach, onions, mushrooms and cheddar-jack. The turkey brie ($7) posed a lighter, more subtly flavored option, with green apple slices adding a mild sweetness. (They didn't skimp on the brie, either.) If you opt for the sizable 'black & bleuâ?� roast beef'and'blue cheese crepe ($7.50), the irony of the café being sandwiched between Marie-France and Omaha Steaks won't be lost. OK, it probably will, but that won't take away from the sandwich. I happened to glance at the turkey bacon panini ($7.25) one of the cooks was chomping down on during a break and it, too, looked worthy of ordering.

But when it comes to crepes, the pièces de rèsistance lie on the sweeter side of fried, so I was a little disappointed in the absence of my favorite ' crepes suzette ' from the selections listed on the menu. The fact they're not licensed to sell alcohol may have something to do with it, though that may change in the coming weeks. Until then, the Green Lemon crepe ($4), with lemon and sugar, is the closest thing, but you're better off going with a more filling option, and there are plenty. The Southern Comfort crepe ($5.50) is a viscous mélange of peanut butter, bananas and chocolate sauce, while the 'caramel delightâ?� ($4.50) can be made a seasonal delight with the addition of cinnamon apples for a buck extra. A separate 'dessert crepesâ?� category listed items that were entirely too rich and decadent for my tastes, but if you're the type that gets a kick out of Oreo crumbs or s'mores in your crepes, have at it.

There's a scene in Talladega Nights where Ricky Bobby gets his arm broken for refusing to utter the words, 'I love crepes.â?� After enjoying one here, you likely won't need your arm twisted. And if you don't, there's likely another one on Green Lemon's menu that'll squeeze the sentiment out of you.

There's a scene in Talladega Nights where Ricky Bobby gets his arm broken for refusing to utter the words, 'I love crepes.â?� After enjoying one here, you likely won't need your arm twisted. And if you don't, there's likely another one on Green Lemon's menu that'll squeeze the sentiment out of you.

KitchenAF is your new go-to solution for feeding your family. We have no servers on staff, so we get your order instructions directly from you! We believe in bigger portion sizes and more value for your dollar for the ultimate food experience. Happy cooks making over 80 meals with love <3 Pick-up or delivery available on UberEats, DoorDash, GrubHub or directly from www.kitchenaf.com

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.

When I lived in Atlanta in the early 1990s, I was one broke-ass sucker. Before I began my illustrious career in alternative journalism, I was sleeping on a friend's floor, working various jobs, avoiding responsibility and managing to drink most of my paycheck. Therefore, despite all the wonderful dining options around town, my stomach had to endure the standard bohemian rations of cheap ramen and 99-cent fast-food menus.

Occasionally, though, minor financial windfalls would come my way, and whatever wasn't spent in pursuit of entertainment was splurged on one of two meals: fried chicken at the Silver Grill (the best fried chicken on the planet) or pizza at Mellow Mushroom. And Mellow Mushroom was the first place I ever encountered a tofu anything that tasted good. Yeah, tofu on your pizza. Weird, right? But the, um, mellow vibe at the Mushroom helped keep the hippie leanings of its pizza menu from turning the joint into some sort of granola factory. The mood was communal, the beer was cheap and the pizza – with meat or without – was always excellent.

Not surprisingly, the restaurant was successful to the point of being an institution. The first Mellow Mushroom opened in the '70s near Georgia Tech; there are now more than 50 locations throughout the Southeast. So when construction began on a Mellow Mushroom outpost – near my house even! – I was eager for a chance to see what happens when a restaurant whose identity is intertwined with its city of origin branches out into foreign territory. Would the atmosphere be as convivial? Would they have good beer? Would this charming and wonderful part of my own personal history have been turned into an Olive Garden-style commodity? Most importantly, would they have good pizza?

Answers: Yes, but with effort. Hell, yes. Yes, but not in a bad way. Absolutely.

As with any new restaurant in Winter Park, interest in Mellow Mushroom's opening was high. We went just a few days after it opened and were greeted by a polite hostess who informed us there was a 15-minute wait, which was surprising, but would have been fine if there had actually been a place to wait. The restaurant is squeezed into a tiny plot of land in the Publix shopping plaza on Aloma Avenue, and there's precious little room for parking near the restaurant (unless you count the plaza's huge parking lot nearby). With no real waiting area, this means the parking lot also functions as an ersatz holding pen for those on the list.

That's the only thing I found wrong with the new Mellow Mushroom.

Though it shone with a sparkly freshness that was a little off-putting, the classic-rock soundtrack and quasi-psychedelic artwork (right down to the "plasticine porter" bathroom-door markers) were all hallmarks of the relaxed, counter-culture Mushroom environment. A reassuringly long line of beer taps at the bar was a great sight; the fact that they all poured excellent Shipyard products made me giddy.

Our waitress was one of those sit-at-the-table types, which is usually annoying, but when she served our food, it could have been brought to us by Dick Cheney and we would have left a good tip. Huge chunks of fresh, moist mozzarella and tomato slices topped a massive bed of fresh field greens in the Capri salad ($7). The teriyaki-marinated tofu in our half-hoagie ($3.75) was accented by grilled onions, peppers and sprouts and slathered with mayonnaise. The pretzels ($3.70) were made with superfresh dough and baked on a pizza stone.

Oh yeah, the pizza. The 10-inch "Magical Mystery Tour" ($10.75) pie – spinach, feta, mozzarella, portobello mushrooms on a pesto (rather than marinara) base – was simply astounding, with copious toppings and a buttery, Parmesan-topped crust. Despite the other excellent offerings on the menu, the pizza's what it's all about here, and I'm pleased to report that expansion has done nothing to diminish the quality.

Sure, the slick new surroundings don't have the same scrappy appeal as the original shops, but the pizza's still great and, hey, I don't have the same scrappy appeal I had a decade ago either. I guess that's a fair trade.

As one might expect, the N. Park Ave. Deli & Food Mart is on the famous Park Avenue in Winter Park. But it's on NORTH Park Avenue, the more unsightly other end of the spectrum than the chichi shops. For years, the previous owners – Anna Federer, a native Hungarian, and her husband – made their mark by offering hot goulash, among the other ethnic recipes, in the deli behind the counter of what's really a convenience store. Now retired, the Federers still own the building but a new couple is carrying on the tradition, sans goulash.

Still, the deli carries an interesting menu of cheap sandwiches and subs. A healthy egg salad on wheat with lettuce and tomatoes costs $3.19. Or take home a pound of the egg salad for $4.19. The hefty hummus and tabouli on a wrap was $4.99. The tabouli tasted a bit different than the typical varieties sold about town; this version was thick with moist bulgur wheat and thoroughly infused with the lemon juice and olive oil. It was full of flavor.

The deli also prepares the usual varieties of cold or hot sandwiches ($4.79-$5.19), from a fried chicken sandwich with fries to a tuna melt on pita. The Reuben sampled was prepared and heated in style, but there was a non-discussed substitution of cheddar cheese for Swiss. The fries were a wonder, though, thick and crispy, cooked in an auto-fry machine just for me.

The deli sits a block before North Park merges into U.S. Hwy. 17-92, near Maitland, so it's tucked off the main road and looks a bit junky, unless you're a local who knows better. And after hours, don't be shocked by the sight of the metal security gates that all but obscure the front of the store.

Downtown hardly needs another sandwich shop, but there is a captive-audience prosperity that is fueling outlets like Pickles Original N.Y. Deli, strategically located inside the Orange County Administration Building.

Pass clients waiting for marriage licenses and building permits on the first floor to enter the tiny cafe with ample indoor and outdoor seating. Two pickle barrels center the bustling ordering/waiting triangle, stocked with upscale Boar's Head meats, hand-dipped ice cream and gourmet desserts.

Pass clients waiting for marriage licenses and building permits on the first floor to enter the tiny cafe with ample indoor and outdoor seating. Two pickle barrels center the bustling ordering/waiting triangle, stocked with upscale Boar's Head meats, hand-dipped ice cream and gourmet desserts.

But an office takeout yielded more yawns than yums for the "turkey Reuben" and the "Italiano" sandwich with salami, ham and provolone on a hero roll (both $4.50). Only the "New Yorker" got a thumbs up for the turkey, roast beef and Swiss with cole slaw and Thousand Island dressing on marble rye. It's convenient, but why can't the fare be tasty, too?

The first Pita Pit to open in town, out by UCF, has already been distinguished by our Best of Orlando 2004 award for Best Late-Night Restaurant. We know it's a fast-growing chain restaurant (www.pitapit.com) that's penetrated the country at an alarming rate, but there just aren't that many places in Orlando to find fast food with fresh vegetables and sizzling meats after the clock strikes 12, much less into the wee hours.

Now the company has staked out its second claim in town, right in the heart of downtown on Orange Avenue, near the corner of Central Boulevard. The tried-and-true menu is simple and easy on addled brains when it comes to decision-making. There are pitas (don't bother asking for another kind of bread, this is what makes it a low-calorie bonanza), salads, toppings, sauces, snacks and drinks. Start with one of the suggested pitas ranging from $5.50 at the high end (the sauced-up "chicken Caesar," which can be filled out by asking for more veggies) to the $3.50 cheapo (the "garden" pita; it'll take two hands to handle all the greenery). From there, follow along Subway-style, overseeing the addition of toppings (the usuals plus mushrooms, cucumbers, sprouts, pineapple, Swiss and feta). Then comes the pièce de résistance, the tantalizing sauces, such as tzatziki, teriyaki, honey mustard, ranch, Dijon, Caesar and a "secret sauce."

Once you get the hang of ordering and find those favorite tastes, the customizable options are unlimited. And genuine veggie options go beyond the "garden" to Middle Eastern standbys like falafel, baba ghanoush, hummus and feta. Extra meat ($2) or extra cheese (75 cents) can bump up the protein. Best of all, the downtown Pita Pit takes care of the lunch crew and then remains open until 3 a.m. Monday-Thursday, and until 4 a.m. Friday and Saturday. The staff reports that there's always someone walking through the door.

Boho coffeehouse perks up the Aloma/Semoran corridor with bold brews, live music and a colorful aesthetic. Soups, salads and sandwiches comprise the menu offerings; butternut squash and tomato-lentil soups are spot-on, while sandwiches can be hit ("roast beef yum") or miss ("Tofurkey Day"). To end, the chocolate trilogy provides another caffeine fix. Closed Sundays.

It appears that queuing up outside Winter Park restaurants has become de rigueur, what with lines snaking out the door at Four Rivers Smokehouse (a brisket paradise), Black Bean Deli (oh, those medianoches!) and, now, the Winter Park Fish Company. Okay, they all qualify as shacks more than restaurants, but if folks are willing to brave the elements and wait upward of 30 minutes just to make it to the order counter, then clearly they're all doing something right. This joint prides itself on its fish-friendly practices and commitment to sustainability ' I just wish their commitment to inventory were as superior, at least on the one Friday I visited. They seemed to be out of quite a few dishes by early evening: conch fritters, lobster bisque, salmon burgers, wild coho, Caribbean mahi and, the one dish I was really looking forward to eating, grouper cheeks wrapped in parchment.

Still, there were plenty of dishes from which to choose, and on this particularly cool night, the fish chowder ($4) sounded perfect, but what we were expecting ' a hearty soup thickened with flour and cream ' wound up having a consistency akin to a traditional bouillabaisse. That didn't negate the soup's heartiness, however, thanks to a just-right ratio of veggies (carrots, celery and potatoes) to fish (cod and mahi). Items labeled 'conesâ?� were intriguing, but that was before we learned they were wraps or, rather, hand rolls. The tuna salad cone ($9.50) had plenty of yellowfin tuna lathered in a creamy mango cole slaw, but it didn't exactly wow us, even if the accompanying thick-cut fries were worthy. What did wow were the addictive hush puppies ($1.50 for four), fresh-out-of-the-fryer'crisp and dusted with powdered sugar. While the price was a bit steep, the lightly fried grouper in the Key West style sandwich ($15) was a sizable cut and undoubtedly fresh. Mild Alaskan ling cod ($14), another fried wonder, was made all the better by sides of crisp green beans and pearl couscous.

I did manage to sample the grouper cheeks ($12) a few days later. While they're widely considered to be the best part of the fish, I found the chunky morsels cooked with onions and peppers to be properly meaty, but also a tad chewy. The 'Bruce Goreâ?� wild coho ($22), named after the noted fisherman known for providing the finest Alaskan salmon, was the menu's highlight. Caught by hook and line, then stunned, bled and cleaned immediately, Gore's coho embody unparalleled flavor, and that certainly parlayed to the plate. The fish was juicy, fork-tender and simply outstanding, whether grilled or Cajun-seasoned.

Decor at the Winter Park Fish Company has just the right amount of kitsch (love the canopy of inverted dinghies) and the few picnic-style tables inside lend to communal dining, though there's plenty of seating in the partly covered patio outside. The wait staff, including owner George Vogelbacher (previous owner of Le Cordon Bleu and Nicole St. Pierre), is pleasant, friendly and always willing to stop and chat, which can help pass time when you're standing in line waiting to order. And while parking can be a real pain here, the food is good enough to get you hooked. Consider this one a keeper.

It's obvious why Wrap Planet appeals to Rollins students who want to skip the swank of Park Avenue and grab a casual bite next to a 7-Eleven. Wrap Planet offers a United Nations of unusual, vegetarian-friendly wraps for breakfast and lunch, smoothies, tacos and salads without the grease and guilt of fast food. 

That said, the ingredient combos seem odd at first. How about chicken, mashed potatoes and curry? If that's your cup of chai, you'll love the Big Bali. Tofu (or chicken), tomato sauce, brown rice and pinto beans? That's the Mayan Delight. Why is the Mr. Gourdini wrap so named? Not sure: There was no winter squash to be found in the whole-wheat wrap full of mashed potatoes, rice, beans, pico de gallo and Greek dressing. I did, however, enjoy the Bangkok Delight ($5.95), a flour wrap with shredded chicken, cabbage slaw, rice, cucumbers and peanut sauce. 

Don't expect to lounge around inside; there's no seating, so be ready to claim a bench on Park Ave., walk it off or take it home. Wrap Planet isn't a novel concept ' we've heard the healthy wrap/smoothie song before ' but the innards of their roll-ups are certainly inventive.