Locations in West

What do you get when you cross Starbucks with Ron Jon's Surf Shop? A coffeehouse with a faux molten volcano, 3-D surf wave, saltwater aquarium and brews with an attitude, aka Bad Ass Coffee Company.

The fantastical decor of this Hawaiian-rooted chain fits right into its I-Drive location, south of Sand Lake Boulevard – so much so that owners Tom and Linda Clark haven't heard so much as a boo about the Bad Ass name (even though there was a bit of a "brewhaha" over the Tampa store), since they opened their family business in February. The Ass reference pays homage to the donkeys used to transport the harvested beans out of the mountains. They're not just talking dirty.

Being good parents, the friendly Clark couple invested in the store so that daughter Jennifer, a fresh Florida State University graduate with a master's degree in tax accounting, could follow her dream to open a coffeehouse, because she didn't really like numbers, after all. And it's the only Bad Ass in town.

This is the place to purchase genuine Kona beans – the only coffee grown in the United States. If you're late to the Kona controversy, there's been much to-do about the sale of fake or blended varieties, even by heavyweights such as Starbucks. The hoopla comes from the fact that Kona beans only grow on a 20-square-mile area on the island of Hawaii. The constant cloud cover and rich soil generate the distinctive low-acid, full-bodied beans that claim top dollar around the world.

Bad Ass carries a variety of 100 percent Kona roasts, from lightweight American to robust French. The ultimate delicacy in the store is the "Peaberry medium-dark roast" – $22.95 for a half-pound bag, which is a totally reasonable price. Most coffee beans have two halves, but the pea berry has a single core – a natural anomaly – and they are handpicked out of the processing line. A fresh crop won't be in until February, so there's little Kona (much less pea berry) to be found anywhere, except at Bad Ass, which stocked up for the holidays.

The store carries a lighthearted line of Bad Ass-branded mugs, T-shirts, calendars, even thong underwear. There's a limited menu of "Donkey Feeds" that includes pastries, sandwiches and ice cream served seven days a week.

The website (www.badasscoffeeorlando.com) is ready for mail orders and shipping is free until Dec. 15.

We didn't review this location but you can check out the review of the Ben & Jerry's in Oviedo.

Walking up the stairs to the Portofino Bay Hotel's newest restaurant, Bice (pronounced "BEE-chay"), you feel like you've wandered onto a movie set. It's a familiar feeling to most Orlandoans, who often have no choice but to enter a theme park in order to enjoy an upscale restaurant. The hotel purports to be a re-creation of the Italian beach town of Portofino; the sprawling wings enclose a man-made lake upon which gondolas and water taxis float aimlessly. The cobblestone piazza seems genuine enough, but the vintage Vespas with engines removed, chained to lampposts, and the monotonous stucco walls betray the fact that it's a fake. The cruising golf carts don't help the illusion, either.

Once you're inside, though, the illusion's over. Bice, offering very expensive, very refined comfort food, is just another generic upscale hotel restaurant. It's very nice – muted ivory-toned lighting, frescoed ceiling, enormous flower arrangement – but bland. The one note of personality is the sharp black-and-white lacquered armchairs in the bar; too bad, the bar was populated by cheering football watchers on this night.

Once we attracted the attention of the waitress, we ordered a glass of 2000 Luigi Righetti ($16) while we waited for our table. The only amarone available by the glass, it was delicious but took no risks. Then the dance of the servicepeople commenced: A host told us our table was ready, a waiter led us there, a different waiter arrived to hand us menus and somewhere, the cocktail waitress was still holding our bar tab and credit card. Once that was sorted out, we made our selections from the huge menu – some of the choices oddly betraying a nouvelle cuisine twist – and settled back on the comfy banquette.

Before our starters arrived, a busboy brought a basket of bread and bottles of olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and dinner was off to an inauspicious beginning. The salty rosemary focaccia and rustic wheat bread were obviously mass-produced, possessed of a uniform crumb instead of the chewy density characteristic of bread baked in small batches. The olive oil was pale and weak, and the vinegar was sour. A glum anticipation settled over the table.

Beef carpaccio with black truffle dressing and an arugula and mushroom salad ($18) arrived looking like a rosy-petaled sunflower. Sadly, the beautiful pink beef, instead of being silky and earthy, was mushy and tasteless. The salad (arugula, raw cremini mushrooms, shaved Parmesan) was bright, clean, simple, but the taste of black truffle could scarcely be detected in the dressing. Across the table, the lentil soup "with black truffle fondue" was also simple yet expertly prepared, a delicate, peppery puree with, alas, nary a trace of the pungent black truffle in the swirl of olive oil on top.

Then chef Massimo Esposito knocked one out of the park. Resembling something a very chic caveman would eat, a huge 16-ounce veal chop ($42) arrived, lapped in porcini sauce and snuggled atop a drift of soft polenta. Surrounded by lovely charred fat (hey, don't knock it until you've tried it), the chop was grilled to a perfect medium-rare, as ordered. The polenta, rich with Parmesan, was the kind of dish that inspires compulsive eating – creamy and utterly comforting. The rigatoni alla Siciliana ($17) was less spectacular, though enjoyable. The traditional Sicilian marriage of eggplant, pine nuts, capers and raisins somehow didn't quite work this time around.

Though not a dessert fan, I splurged on the pistachio and caramel semifreddo ($8) and urged my companion to try the vanilla panna cotta (also $8). This was the best move we made all night. The semifreddo was a bustling playground of tastes and textures: soft, half-frozen cream crunchy with glassy shards of caramel and slivers of roasted almonds, in a pool of almond crème anglaise sprinkled with jade-green chopped pistachios. By contrast, the panna cotta was an elegant, austere dish: a vanilla custard gelatin dusted with black vanilla seeds and ringed with a compote of sweet dried apricots. It was pared down to the essentials, yet clearly created by a virtuoso. With two plates my resistance to dessert was ended.

Like the staircase we had to climb, our experience at Bice may have started on a low note, but it ended with a fabulous high. My suggestion: Grab a table on the patio, have a glass (or bottle) of wine, sample the desserts and watch the faux gondolas navigate the faux lake. At least the food will be the real thing.

Inviting neighborhood pub with a refreshing lack of pretense takes bar-fare standbys to higher gustatory levels. Delectable mac & cheese-rubbed chicken wings and the 10-ounce Bloodhoung burger will stick to one's ribs, no doubt, while excellent street tacos and friend chicken and biscuits on a stick also stand out. A decent beer selection is offset by indifferently executed dessert options. Live music every day.

Teaser: Inviting neighborhood pub with a refreshing lack of pretense takes bar-fare standbys to higher gustatory levels. Delectable mac & cheese-rubbed chicken wings and the 10-ounce Bloodhoung burger will stick to one's ribs, no doubt, while excellent street tacos and friend chicken and biscuits on a stick also stand out. A decent beer selection is offset by indifferently executed dessert options. Live music every day.

The King of Reggae's open-air Kingston home has been resurrected. Live bands wail in the courtyard, while the laid-back bar staff serves up Red Stripe, rum concoctions and jerk sandwiches. It's one of the smaller CityWalk venues and weekends are frequently jammed and jammin'.

Teaser: The king of reggae's open-air Kingston home has been resurrected for the real Rasta experience (sans ganja, natch). Live bands wail in the courtyard, while the laid-back bar staff serves up Red Stripe, rum concoctions and jerk sandwiches. It's one of the smaller CityWalk venues and weekends are frequently jammed and jammin'.

Bubbalou's Bodacious Bar-B-Que seduces you before you even lay eyes on it, which is just what good barbecue ought to do. The siren smell of smoky, sweet meats is in the air outside this new location, just north of Universal Studios Florida. Even from the parking lot, Bubbalou's is alluring, with that bold, unblushing name lit up in neon, flanked by three hot-pink piglets tip-toeing over flames.

Inside, the atmosphere is cheerful and bright. It's roomier than the original Winter Park eatery, but both dish up Big Barbecue. You name it and they smoke it: pork, chicken, beef, turkey, ham, sausage, lamb; and for the barbecue rebel, gizzards and livers. Country music hits are on the sound system, and a stuffed bear rises over the wood-paneled dining room.

My guest and I placed orders at the counter, choosing from an array of sandwiches, baskets and dinners, priced from $2.69 to $8.99. We found seats at a picnic table in back, the only spot that hadn't been claimed by a hungry, lunchtime crowd.

The food soon arrived, and we dived in with abandon. I tried "Bubbalou's Special" ($8.99), a sampler platter with four side-orders, and quickly honed in on the spare ribs. They were divine in the most primal way: succulent on the inside and slightly charred outside. Of the shredded meats, the pork was moist and tender, but the beef was a bit dry by comparison.

My guest ordered the quarter chicken basket with two sides ($3.99). Her chicken, like mine, was glazed to a rich, brown hue. On the inside, it was well-done, yet juicy. While most of the smoked meats stood on their own, we laced them with the barbecue sauces anyway: "Mild" had a hint of sweetness with a gentle bite; "Hot" was warm with a tangy edge; "Killer" was fiery enough to make your mouth glow.

On the side, baked beans were sweetly simmered with pork. The cole slaw was creamy yet light. Corn bread was moist and savory, which was nice given that the grilled bread was a bit limp and unexciting. Ripple-cut french fries were delicious. My only quibble is the size of some side-orders. At $8.99 for a dinner plate combo, I expected more than a cuplet of beans and a dollop of slaw.

Although Bubbalou's was approaching capacity when we arrived, we were on our way with boxed leftovers within 50 minutes. And we swore to do some bodacious workouts so we can go back soon.

If you're not a beef lover or if you like a variety of menu options, you should probably skip this place. But "real beef" connoisseurs searching for a basic meat-and-potatoes dining experience need look no further than Butcher Shop Steakhouse on International Drive.

The chain restaurant not only promises an array of "the biggest and best grain-fed beef direct from the Midwest," but invites patrons to grill their own steaks over a brick hickory pit. The handsomely appointed restaurant must have hosted a tired bunch of buckaroos during our midweek visit, as none of the diners took advantage of the opportunity to cook themselves a meal.

The chain restaurant not only promises an array of "the biggest and best grain-fed beef direct from the Midwest," but invites patrons to grill their own steaks over a brick hickory pit. The handsomely appointed restaurant must have hosted a tired bunch of buckaroos during our midweek visit, as none of the diners took advantage of the opportunity to cook themselves a meal.

Or perhaps, like us, none of them wanted to expend the effort and end up smelling like a backyard barbecue, a distinct possibility given the pungent charcoal smoke generated by the display grill, which made a mockery of the designated non-smoking room.

Or perhaps, like us, none of them wanted to expend the effort and end up smelling like a backyard barbecue, a distinct possibility given the pungent charcoal smoke generated by the display grill, which made a mockery of the designated non-smoking room.

Our reservation was honored within minutes of our arrival, our enthusiastic server greeted us promptly, and we began our menu perusal. No surprises: Though two fresh seafood catches and grilled marinated chicken breast are available, the specialty here is red meat. No appetizers, no gourmet soups or salads, just the basics. And it ain't cheap.

Our reservation was honored within minutes of our arrival, our enthusiastic server greeted us promptly, and we began our menu perusal. No surprises: Though two fresh seafood catches and grilled marinated chicken breast are available, the specialty here is red meat. No appetizers, no gourmet soups or salads, just the basics. And it ain't cheap.

Steaks range from an 8-ounce filet mignon ($17.95) to a 28-ounce T-bone ($23.95). There are also rib-eyes, top sirloins and Kansas City strips. Prime rib lovers may order a 16-ounce boneless cut ($17.95) or a 32-ounce king cut with bone ($23.95). Chicken and seafood entrees begin at $13.95. All dinners come with salad and bread. The only accompaniment offered is a half- or full-skillet order of sautéed mushrooms in light garlic and butter sauce ($3.95 and $5.95). Our dinner rolls were nondescript; our salads were fresh, with a nice assortment of trimmings but an overabundance of dressing.

Steaks range from an 8-ounce filet mignon ($17.95) to a 28-ounce T-bone ($23.95). There are also rib-eyes, top sirloins and Kansas City strips. Prime rib lovers may order a 16-ounce boneless cut ($17.95) or a 32-ounce king cut with bone ($23.95). Chicken and seafood entrees begin at $13.95. All dinners come with salad and bread. The only accompaniment offered is a half- or full-skillet order of sautéed mushrooms in light garlic and butter sauce ($3.95 and $5.95). Our dinner rolls were nondescript; our salads were fresh, with a nice assortment of trimmings but an overabundance of dressing.

My husband's weekly steak craving was satisfied by his 14-ounce rib-eye ($16.95), which was nicely marbled and cooked to order. The tableside gourmet steak sauce – featuring such bizarre ingredients as pineapple, raisins, anchovies and bourbon – didn't suit us. His half-order of sautéed mushrooms, presented in an iron skillet, was enough to share. While they were nicely cooked, the garlic seasoning was not discernable.

My husband's weekly steak craving was satisfied by his 14-ounce rib-eye ($16.95), which was nicely marbled and cooked to order. The tableside gourmet steak sauce – featuring such bizarre ingredients as pineapple, raisins, anchovies and bourbon – didn't suit us. His half-order of sautéed mushrooms, presented in an iron skillet, was enough to share. While they were nicely cooked, the garlic seasoning was not discernable.

I sent my first plate of 12-ounce yellowfin tuna back, as it was overcooked. Our server accommodated the request with a smile and an apology, returning five minutes later with a tender and juicy fillet. Our foil-wrapped baked potatoes were plump and enjoyable.

I sent my first plate of 12-ounce yellowfin tuna back, as it was overcooked. Our server accommodated the request with a smile and an apology, returning five minutes later with a tender and juicy fillet. Our foil-wrapped baked potatoes were plump and enjoyable.

Our "Katie's delight" house dessert ($3.50) was a deliciously chewy and crunchy creation that featured cream cheese, whipped cream and chocolate pudding on a bed of crushed pecans, topped with chocolate chips and more pecans.

I somehow managed to talk my husband, the Impatient Gourmet, into heading to Mount Dora for lunch on a lazy Sunday afternoon. We slowly made our way north on Orange Blossom Trail until we reached the quaint roads that drag one into the heart of this historical town in Lake County.

Our destination was Café Attuare, an Italian café off Donnelly Street in the heart of downtown Mount Dora. The restaurant is located on the second story of a small tower of stores that looked to have been developed in the mid-'80s. It sits back off the road and stands out against a backdrop of early 20th-century storefronts. We climbed the short flight of stairs and walked in. The view out the windows in the airy room was of treetops, making a lovely hideaway. The décor, while fitting, was a cheap version of tasteful, and the smiley Italian hostess running around in leopard-print leggings and a halter top only added to the charm. We were seated next to a burgundy-draped window, beneath the requisite photograph of some destination in Italy.

I opened the menu and immediately made the assessment that this would not be what I call Italian-Italian fare. It seemed more like upstate New York Italian or something from Jersey that you might find on an episode of The Sopranos. In other words, it's the food I used to eat at my maternal grandparents' house back in the '70s. This was the generation when immigrant Italian food had been perfected as its own cuisine, no longer resembling true Italian cooking but possessing a hint of Sicilian sensibility mixed with a lot of modern American appeal.

We started with a sampler of garlic rolls ($2.50), since the menu proclaimed them "a must." They were, in fact, delicious: garlic-laced oil smothering yeasty knots of freshly cooked dough. The bread here is nothing like true Italian bread, which tends to be rustic, with lots of holes, and chewy. Café Attuare's version is nonetheless unique and tasty – slightly sweet, dense and yeasty. The crust had hardened and darkened with cooking, and it tasted more like Amish friendship bread than something from Little Italy.

I also started with a cup of house-made minestrone ($2.50) that had an abundance of fresh vegetables, including huge chunks of fresh garlic that had been stewed to a caramel-like texture.

Both entrees came with salads and an impressive array of homemade dressings. The Impatient Gourmet ordered a Caesar, and the real anchovy mixed into the creamy dressing impressed him greatly. I chose a fresh-looking house salad with a better-than-average Italian dressing spiked with fresh herbs.

The Impatient Gourmet couldn't resist a stromboli ($7.95) from the pizza portion of the menu. Pepperoni, sausage and fresh veggies were rolled up with provolone and baked in the same bread as the garlic knots.

For my entree, I tried shrimp scampi ($14.95) and this dish of linguine topped with sautéed shrimp was a mixed bag. The shrimp were lightly tender, walking a fine line between raw and tough. The wine, however, must have been poured in a downfall, because the shrimp were overly pungent, accenting the fishy smell. The whole thing was poured over the pasta in a watery mess and the flavor didn't cling well to the starch. I added some cheese and took a few bites before returning to nibbling at the stromboli bread. Impressively, Paulette, the owner in the leopard pants who I had noticed running around with a coral-lipstick-outlined smile, promptly noticed my reaction to the scampi and offered another dish.

I decided to save room for dessert instead. I'm glad, because the homemade selections looked outstanding. Tiramisu ($4.50) with white Russian espresso was tempting, but we chose chocolate decadence cake ($4.50), which was a creamy layer of chocolate enhanced with a little amaretto and Bailey's and poured into a buttery crumb crust.

We were so pleased with our meal that we ordered a piece of homemade lasagna ($9.25) to eat later that night while watching the season premiere of Rome, and it was fabulous.

Until recently, Apopka was a town with an erratic dining scene, not exactly a place where you would go in search of an epicurean adventure, Italian or otherwise. Now two years old, Caffe Positano reflects the changing face of Apopka, with its fine food prepared with passion, appreciation and flair.

Situated in an ordinary shopping plaza on Semoran Boulevard, Caffe Positano hums at lunchtime with sounds from the clamorous kitchen and echoes from customers filling up tables. Businessmen whip out cell phones while waiting for their orders, co-workers split pizzas, and suspended over it all is the aroma of spices, marinaras and thick, fresh-baked Italian loaves.

Situated in an ordinary shopping plaza on Semoran Boulevard, Caffe Positano hums at lunchtime with sounds from the clamorous kitchen and echoes from customers filling up tables. Businessmen whip out cell phones while waiting for their orders, co-workers split pizzas, and suspended over it all is the aroma of spices, marinaras and thick, fresh-baked Italian loaves.

The menu items were consistently excellent on our visit. The pasta e fagioli soup ($4) had a silky quality, spiked with cannellini beans and bits of pasta. We loved the aggressive, meaty flavor in the thick broth.

The menu items were consistently excellent on our visit. The pasta e fagioli soup ($4) had a silky quality, spiked with cannellini beans and bits of pasta. We loved the aggressive, meaty flavor in the thick broth.

An array of "pizzettes" may be one of Apopka's best-kept secrets. The "white pizzetta" ($6.25) was a standout with a touch of fresh garlic, and a fluffy bed of melted mozzarella and ricotta cheeses. We asked for spinach and broccoli as extras, and they added earthy textures and tastes without weighing it down. The crust was perfection, glazed with the sheen of olive oil and fired in the oven for a delicious crunch.

An array of "pizzettes" may be one of Apopka's best-kept secrets. The "white pizzetta" ($6.25) was a standout with a touch of fresh garlic, and a fluffy bed of melted mozzarella and ricotta cheeses. We asked for spinach and broccoli as extras, and they added earthy textures and tastes without weighing it down. The crust was perfection, glazed with the sheen of olive oil and fired in the oven for a delicious crunch.

All of the entrees come with a choice of soup or salad, and I recommend one of the light, buoyant salads, topped with shaved petals of carrots and tossed with a delicate, almost floral, Italian dressing. Among the entrees, "veal zingarella" ($12) wins applause for its lemony undertones. It's sautéed in butter and white wine, so naturally it's rich and juicy. The tangy quality is carried a step further with capers and plump, tender artichokes. We couldn't get enough.

All of the entrees come with a choice of soup or salad, and I recommend one of the light, buoyant salads, topped with shaved petals of carrots and tossed with a delicate, almost floral, Italian dressing. Among the entrees, "veal zingarella" ($12) wins applause for its lemony undertones. It's sautéed in butter and white wine, so naturally it's rich and juicy. The tangy quality is carried a step further with capers and plump, tender artichokes. We couldn't get enough.

"Chicken mama mia" ($8.50) holds its own against a sautéed sauce of balsamic vinegar and a bare hint of cream. Shiitake mushrooms are sliced evenly and tossed on top for a rich finish.

"Chicken mama mia" ($8.50) holds its own against a sautéed sauce of balsamic vinegar and a bare hint of cream. Shiitake mushrooms are sliced evenly and tossed on top for a rich finish.

For dessert, you can have the usual tiramisu or cannoli, but better yet try a tartuffo ($4.75), a baseball-sized scoop of chocolate and mocha ice cream, rolled in a crumbly blanket of chocolate cookies. It's served on its own dinner platter, surrounded by a zigzag necklace of chocolate syrup.

For dessert, you can have the usual tiramisu or cannoli, but better yet try a tartuffo ($4.75), a baseball-sized scoop of chocolate and mocha ice cream, rolled in a crumbly blanket of chocolate cookies. It's served on its own dinner platter, surrounded by a zigzag necklace of chocolate syrup.

Apopka isn't exactly the crossroads of Orlando, but Caffe Positano's menu is so appealing that it rates a special trip, if necessary.

Foodwise, our corner of the state is a lot more diverse than meets the eye. You could dine at Applebee's every night for a fortnight and never eat at the same restaurant twice, true, but if you venture off the beaten track even a little in Central Florida you are bound to come across some surprises.

Caribbean Queen Cuisine, a no-frills, family-run restaurant on the west side, is such a place. If you are hungry for a taste of the islands, but one of those all-inclusive package pig-outs to Jamaica isn't in the budget right now, stop by. It will be the cheapest culinary tour you've ever taken.

Caribbean Queen Cuisine, a no-frills, family-run restaurant on the west side, is such a place. If you are hungry for a taste of the islands, but one of those all-inclusive package pig-outs to Jamaica isn't in the budget right now, stop by. It will be the cheapest culinary tour you've ever taken.

Tucked way in the corner of the Park Promenade mall, the place is easy to miss. (The location gets bonus points with this writer for being next door to a Goodwill store, where I nabbed two bitchin' dress shirts for $7. Score!) In fact, my wife predicts the location will doom the place.

Tucked way in the corner of the Park Promenade mall, the place is easy to miss. (The location gets bonus points with this writer for being next door to a Goodwill store, where I nabbed two bitchin' dress shirts for $7. Score!) In fact, my wife predicts the location will doom the place. Which would be too bad, really, because for the price ($5) I can't remember a better plate of curried goat. I'm a big fan of goat. For the uninitiated, goat meat tastes just like a goat smells. You'll love it or you'll hate it, but if you're going to eat Jamaican (or Indian) food, you'd better at least be prepared to try it. Which would be too bad, really, because for the price ($5) I can't remember a better plate of curried goat. I'm a big fan of goat. For the uninitiated, goat meat tastes just like a goat smells. You'll love it or you'll hate it, but if you're going to eat Jamaican (or Indian) food, you'd better at least be prepared to try it.

Goat can be tough, but this serving was tender, and smothered in a rich sauce that could have used more curry. Goat can also be bony, and this serving was indeed bony. You've got to be patient to eat a goat.

Goat can be tough, but this serving was tender, and smothered in a rich sauce that could have used more curry. Goat can also be bony, and this serving was indeed bony. You've got to be patient to eat a goat.

We also tried the oxtail ($5), which is exactly what you think it is: the tail of an ox. No, they don't just plop the whole thing, sausage-like, on your plate. They cut it into sections at the joints, so what you're left with are bone discs containing small cavities of dark, succulent meat. (You also have to be patient to eat an ox's tail.) It came in a rich, red sauce that only hinted of the fiery peppers found in jerk dishes.

We also tried the oxtail ($5), which is exactly what you think it is: the tail of an ox. No, they don't just plop the whole thing, sausage-like, on your plate. They cut it into sections at the joints, so what you're left with are bone discs containing small cavities of dark, succulent meat. (You also have to be patient to eat an ox's tail.) It came in a rich, red sauce that only hinted of the fiery peppers found in jerk dishes.

Both dinners came with sides of rice and peas, a cabbage salad and a fried knot of sweet dough they called a dumpling. It was a huge amount of food for the price.

Both dinners came with sides of rice and peas, a cabbage salad and a fried knot of sweet dough they called a dumpling. It was a huge amount of food for the price.

We also tried the Jamaican beef and jerk chicken patties, which are kept in a warming oven on the counter. If you like meat pies, you'll like these soft pillows of dough stuffed with beef, jerk chicken or vegetables. They're incredibly filling, and incredibly cheap at only $1 each.

We also tried the Jamaican beef and jerk chicken patties, which are kept in a warming oven on the counter. If you like meat pies, you'll like these soft pillows of dough stuffed with beef, jerk chicken or vegetables. They're incredibly filling, and incredibly cheap at only $1 each.

As for décor, well, there just isn't much to write about. There's green carpet on the floors, wood paneling on the walls and lots of tables, most of which were empty the night we visited. The place is clean and unassuming. And did I mention cheap?

As for décor, well, there just isn't much to write about. There's green carpet on the floors, wood paneling on the walls and lots of tables, most of which were empty the night we visited. The place is clean and unassuming. And did I mention cheap?

So here's the drill: Stop in, grab a Ting (Jamaican grapefruit soda) from the cooler and a beef patty from the counter, then order a plate of something you've never tried before. Dinner will be ready about the time you've polished off that patty. You'll get a lot of food, change for a ten and a trip to the islands, for your stomach anyway.

Carrino's has a reputation as a go-to spot for Bay Hill -- and Windermere-based celebrities, sports figures and the odd boy band. (It's the answer to a trivia question on a Backstreet Boys fan site: "What is the name of the restaurant where the Boys had to sing for their dinner?") Hopefully the Boys didn't give over more than a note or two, because the food at Carrino's doesn't warrant much beyond a chorus.

There isn't any corollary between food and value here, and not much that stands out on the menu. A standard item such as chicken parmigiana ($14.95) is overbreaded, cooked to a soft, unexciting consistency and drowned in bland marinara. The eggplant rollatini, one of my favorites ($13.95), was even softer, the combination of ricotta and mozzarella cheeses overpowering what little flavor the eggplant once had. I tried the "irresistible" pasta trio of ziti and stuffed shells (another lesson in marinara swimming) and a bowl of fettuccini Alfredo without much taste ($13.95).

There isn't any corollary between food and value here, and not much that stands out on the menu. A standard item such as chicken parmigiana ($14.95) is overbreaded, cooked to a soft, unexciting consistency and drowned in bland marinara. The eggplant rollatini, one of my favorites ($13.95), was even softer, the combination of ricotta and mozzarella cheeses overpowering what little flavor the eggplant once had. I tried the "irresistible" pasta trio of ziti and stuffed shells (another lesson in marinara swimming) and a bowl of fettuccini Alfredo without much taste ($13.95).

On a plus side, the grilled "Milano panini" sandwich ($6.95), of eggplant, spinach, mushrooms and provolone, had a pleasant combination of flavors and textures. And their pizza falls somewhere between superb and terrible; good crust, mediocre sauce. Meat sauce on the lasagna ($13.50) was richer tasting -- but 13 bucks for lasagna?

On a plus side, the grilled "Milano panini" sandwich ($6.95), of eggplant, spinach, mushrooms and provolone, had a pleasant combination of flavors and textures. And their pizza falls somewhere between superb and terrible; good crust, mediocre sauce. Meat sauce on the lasagna ($13.50) was richer tasting -- but 13 bucks for lasagna?

They could call this restaurant "Café Scusa," because apologies were flying the relatively quiet night we were there. A 15-minute wait at the table without server or menu was explained with, "Sorry, I wasn't told you were here." A delay with the wine was met by "Sorry, the bartender is backed up." (Insert your own joke here.)

They could call this restaurant "Café Scusa," because apologies were flying the relatively quiet night we were there. A 15-minute wait at the table without server or menu was explained with, "Sorry, I wasn't told you were here." A delay with the wine was met by "Sorry, the bartender is backed up." (Insert your own joke here.)

Considering that restaurant staffs are practically falling over themselves to accommodate guests these days, I was surprised by the answer to my request to substitute gnocchi for ziti: "Sorry, they won't do it."

Considering that restaurant staffs are practically falling over themselves to accommodate guests these days, I was surprised by the answer to my request to substitute gnocchi for ziti: "Sorry, they won't do it."

When the person who served my fettuccini accidentally poured a plateful of oil into it while clearing the table, we both stared at the ruined dish -- I guess he was hoping I hadn't noticed -- and then he took the plate away. "Sorry," came after.

When the person who served my fettuccini accidentally poured a plateful of oil into it while clearing the table, we both stared at the ruined dish -- I guess he was hoping I hadn't noticed -- and then he took the plate away. "Sorry," came after.

It's a shame. Carrino's is pleasant inside, overlooking Little Sand Lake, and with owner Anthony Carrino's long family history in restaurants (Carrino's was at its former Bay Hill location for 16 years), the food and service should have been casually impeccable. Instead it was no better than what any neighborhood pizzeria could cobble together, and at a higher price.

It's a shame. Carrino's is pleasant inside, overlooking Little Sand Lake, and with owner Anthony Carrino's long family history in restaurants (Carrino's was at its former Bay Hill location for 16 years), the food and service should have been casually impeccable. Instead it was no better than what any neighborhood pizzeria could cobble together, and at a higher price.

If you're looking for great Italian food, I never wanna hear you say, "I want it that way."

I'm an appetizer fanatic. Gimme a big assortment of little dishes and I am happy. That's why Korean, Indian and Chinese food pleases me so much. Now, with the opening of Cedar's Restaurant, I can add Lebanese to that list.

In a break from the Corporate Fooding of the Sand Lake Road corridor through the Dr. Phillips area, Cedar's is privately owned, and it's hard to beat the hands-on care. With a background in restaurants in New York, the owners say they wanted to "present healthy, well-made food" to Central Florida, and they've succeeded.

In a break from the Corporate Fooding of the Sand Lake Road corridor through the Dr. Phillips area, Cedar's is privately owned, and it's hard to beat the hands-on care. With a background in restaurants in New York, the owners say they wanted to "present healthy, well-made food" to Central Florida, and they've succeeded.

My other obsession is food that is authentically traditional, and Cedar's, in a pistachio nutshell, does it right. Their spin on traditional Lebanese seems to be a lightness of texture and flavor that is both refreshing and inviting. If you're familiar, with Middle Eastern food you won't be disappointed. But if your only experience has been leaden falafel and overwhelming spices, you are in for a treat.

My other obsession is food that is authentically traditional, and Cedar's, in a pistachio nutshell, does it right. Their spin on traditional Lebanese seems to be a lightness of texture and flavor that is both refreshing and inviting. If you're familiar, with Middle Eastern food you won't be disappointed. But if your only experience has been leaden falafel and overwhelming spices, you are in for a treat.

There are far too many appetizers to describe. Even the small pitas are splendid, puffy and hot from the clay oven. Use them to scoop up baba ghannouj, a smooth roasted eggplant and garlic puree with a wonderfully smokey taste ($3.75), as well as shanklish, crumbled cheese blended with thyme, onions and tomato that's so creamy it literally does melt in your mouth ($4.75). Falafel (fried chick peas and bean patties; $3.75) is far lighter than I've ever come across, and a tasty pleasure. The very traditional kebbeh ($4.25) is a flavorful cracked wheat ball stuffed with ground meat and onions.

There are far too many appetizers to describe. Even the small pitas are splendid, puffy and hot from the clay oven. Use them to scoop up baba ghannouj, a smooth roasted eggplant and garlic puree with a wonderfully smokey taste ($3.75), as well as shanklish, crumbled cheese blended with thyme, onions and tomato that's so creamy it literally does melt in your mouth ($4.75). Falafel (fried chick peas and bean patties; $3.75) is far lighter than I've ever come across, and a tasty pleasure. The very traditional kebbeh ($4.25) is a flavorful cracked wheat ball stuffed with ground meat and onions.

If you want to start with something familiar, here's a restaurant that knows its shish kabobs ($14.75) – cubes of marinated lamb, slow roasted and tender. When you feel adventurous, move on to mouloukhieh ($10.75), chicken with malow leaves, cilantro and garlic.

If you want to start with something familiar, here's a restaurant that knows its shish kabobs ($14.75) – cubes of marinated lamb, slow roasted and tender. When you feel adventurous, move on to mouloukhieh ($10.75), chicken with malow leaves, cilantro and garlic.

"Sultan Ibrahim" ($16) is a plateful of small red mullet (I had five), an ancient coastal fish that has a deep, freshwater flavor and is seldom served in the U.S. The fish are served whole and it takes work to get around the bones. But it's delicious, accompanied by tender fried-eggplant rounds and sesame tahini sauce, and worth the effort.

"Sultan Ibrahim" ($16) is a plateful of small red mullet (I had five), an ancient coastal fish that has a deep, freshwater flavor and is seldom served in the U.S. The fish are served whole and it takes work to get around the bones. But it's delicious, accompanied by tender fried-eggplant rounds and sesame tahini sauce, and worth the effort.

The place itself is light and window-filled, with Ottoman arches, columns and a pleasant dining terrace. Be sure to eat just the right amount so you're sleepy enough to offset the jolt of pure caffeine disguised as Turkish coffee. It's a delicate balance that may take two or three visits to get right. Fortunately, you'll enjoy every attempt.