Restaurants in West: Smoking Prohibited

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.

I'm sure Emeril Lagasse is a nice guy, a boy from small-town Fall River, Mass., who made it good in the food trade. People certainly seem to like him. But from the looks of his second restaurant at Universal Orlando, I get the feeling he has marble fountains and paintings on black velvet in his house.

The gourmet production is called Tchoup Chop (pronounced "chop chop" and named after Tchoupitoulas Street in New Orleans, home to Emeril's flagship), serving an oddly Polynesian/Thai/Hawaiian fare in the Royal Pacific Resort, which has an Indonesian theme. Giant glass-flower-blossom chandeliers and a central lily pond dominate the wicker and stone room, and each element is impressive by itself but jarring all together.

The gourmet production is called Tchoup Chop (pronounced "chop chop" and named after Tchoupitoulas Street in New Orleans, home to Emeril's flagship), serving an oddly Polynesian/Thai/Hawaiian fare in the Royal Pacific Resort, which has an Indonesian theme. Giant glass-flower-blossom chandeliers and a central lily pond dominate the wicker and stone room, and each element is impressive by itself but jarring all together.

Much is made of the cocktail menu, which takes up more room than the entrees, but a Bloody Mary with wasabi, soy sauce and sake somehow didn't appeal to me. The dumpling box ($7) was a better choice, steamed dim sum filled with a heavy pork-and-ginger mixture. They were similar to the "pot stickers" ($8), pan-fried shrimp dumplings with dipping sauce. Both were good, but not much different from the acres of dumplings elsewhere.

Much is made of the cocktail menu, which takes up more room than the entrees, but a Bloody Mary with wasabi, soy sauce and sake somehow didn't appeal to me. The dumpling box ($7) was a better choice, steamed dim sum filled with a heavy pork-and-ginger mixture. They were similar to the "pot stickers" ($8), pan-fried shrimp dumplings with dipping sauce. Both were good, but not much different from the acres of dumplings elsewhere.

The "creative clay pot of the day" ($18), offering firm fish (salmon on this night) with vegetables in a deep fish broth and overcooked rice, was an interesting dish but not particularly creative. A shame, since the kitchen is capable of glory. It's wonderful to discover new flavors, and the Kona-glazed duck ($22) was an outrageous combination of rich duck breast coated in caramelized coffee.

The "creative clay pot of the day" ($18), offering firm fish (salmon on this night) with vegetables in a deep fish broth and overcooked rice, was an interesting dish but not particularly creative. A shame, since the kitchen is capable of glory. It's wonderful to discover new flavors, and the Kona-glazed duck ($22) was an outrageous combination of rich duck breast coated in caramelized coffee.

The tuna salad ($9) consisted of ribbons of seared tuna served with sprouts and crisp cucumber in a vinegar/mustard sauce (good with the vegetables but overpowering the excellent fish) and garnished with a pansy blossom Ð and an aphid. I mention this bug incident not to demean the staff (it was a fresh flower and a tiny bug, these things happen), but to emphasize that the service, from manager down, has a long way to go. No apology was tendered, no visit by the wandering "suit"; the price of the salad was deducted from the bill almost as an afterthought.

The tuna salad ($9) consisted of ribbons of seared tuna served with sprouts and crisp cucumber in a vinegar/mustard sauce (good with the vegetables but overpowering the excellent fish) and garnished with a pansy blossom Ð and an aphid. I mention this bug incident not to demean the staff (it was a fresh flower and a tiny bug, these things happen), but to emphasize that the service, from manager down, has a long way to go. No apology was tendered, no visit by the wandering "suit"; the price of the salad was deducted from the bill almost as an afterthought.

There's an air of forced urgency in the constant swarming of waiters, water pourers and plate clearers, so conversation has to be done in bursts, as someone unnervingly appears at your elbow every few minutes to ask, "How is your entree? More water? Anything else?," even to the point of reading the menu to you. There are all the trappings of good service without the finesse. The Emeril folks aren't new to the restaurant trade, they should have learned something about service by now.

There's an air of forced urgency in the constant swarming of waiters, water pourers and plate clearers, so conversation has to be done in bursts, as someone unnervingly appears at your elbow every few minutes to ask, "How is your entree? More water? Anything else?," even to the point of reading the menu to you. There are all the trappings of good service without the finesse. The Emeril folks aren't new to the restaurant trade, they should have learned something about service by now.

Tchoup Chop puts on a good show, but it'll be a long journey until they're impressive.

How many guys does it take to flip the perfect burger? The answer's five, in case you haven't already guessed, and Orlando-area beefeaters are just beginning to learn what their D.C.-area counterparts have known for a long time: Five Guys makes the best burgers around, greasy hands down. And the profusion of accolades and superlatives ensconced on the walls underscore the sentiment ' 'Willy Wonkas of burgercraft!â?� raves the Washington Post; 'Five Guys is in a class by itself!â?� shrieks the Old Town Crier.

Sure, the sterile interior of red-and-white-checkered tile may fall about 10 urinals short of the men's room at Union Station, but if you can manage to get your peanut shell'wedged flip-flops past the 50-pound bags of potatoes and to the counter, you'll find a quintet of red-capped burger-flipping artistes grilling patties to perfection. (Be sure to grab a Styrofoam cup and dig into the giant sack of salted peanuts before picking up your grease-speckled paper bag of food.)

'Five Guys� is a reference to founder Jerry Murrell's five sons, all of whom play a part in the family business, and what a simple business it is: burgers. The never-frozen, 100-percent-fresh, lean ground-beef patties come in four burger varieties ' regular, cheese, bacon and bacon-cheese ' and come standard with two juicy, well-done patties, though you can downsize to the 'little� version with just one which, frankly, is filling enough. Best of all, you can crown those beef-filled, sesame-seed buns with 15 available toppings, such as fried onions, sautéed mushrooms and A-1 sauce, at no extra charge. But if you tend to get topping-happy, you'll have a goopy mess on your hands after your burger disintegrates.

I ordered my 'littleâ?� cheeseburger ($3.29) with fried onions, lettuce, tomatoes, jalapenos and hot sauce, and it held its form nicely. A look under the bun revealed that they forgot the hot sauce, but the miscue failed to spoil my utter enjoyment of this near-perfect, three-quarter-pound burger. It's the kind of sandwich that gets you salivating at the very thought of it. In fact, a couple of nights later, as I sat to write the very words you're reading, a craving for a Five Guys burger overcame me and I just had to have it. You WILL crave a Five Guys burger days, weeks or even months later, and when that hunger hits, you'll drive like a maniac to get to one of their locations (besides the Dr. Phillips store, there's one in Altamonte Springs and another on the corner of Sand Lake Road and John Young Parkway) before the posted closing time of 10 p.m.

The skin-on hand-cut fries ($1.99 regular; $3.79 large), soaked in cold water, blanched in cholesterol-free peanut oil, then crisped when ordered, cry for a splash of vinegar, though you can also get 'em Cajun-style. Word of advice: Unless you're a family of four, the regular order of fries is plenty. A whiteboard advertises the origin of 'Today's Potatoes,â?� and the half-dozen or so times I've eaten there, it's always read 'Rigby, Idaho.â?� Fries are cut French-style, and a pinchful with every burger bite is the best way to enjoy your meal.

Damn, I think I'm getting another craving.

Jamacian bakery and rill serves island fare to the masses, most notably patties, those staple semicircles of flaky goodness. The spicy beef, fish, and veggie varieties are decent, though not great. What is great is the curried goat, an exotic dish with fatty pieces of meat lolling in rich, luxuriant gravy. Also worth a try is the braised oxtail and jerk chicken.

Teaser: Jamaican bakery and grill serves island fare to the masses, most notably patties, those staple semicircles of flaky goodness. The spicy beef, fish and veggie varieties are decent, though not great. What is great is the curried goat, an exotic dish with fatty pieces of meat lolling in rich, luxuriant gravy. Also worth a try is the braised oxtail and jerk chicken.

In an area replete with mom-and-pop eateries specializing in Jamaican, Guyanese and Trinidadian fare, it may seem a bit out of place to focus attention on a fast-food chain. Then again, Caribbean fast-food chains are somewhat singular entities themselves, and foodies unfamiliar with the cuisine will find this spacious bakery and grill a proper initiation to island fare.

Of particular note are the Jamaican beef patties ' those staple semicircles of flaky goodness sold on streets from Kingston to Spanish Town. Golden Krust takes great pride in their signature patties, offering nine different varieties from traditional spicy beef to soy. The parents of company founder Lowell Hawthorne ran a bakery in Jamaica for more than 50 years before Hawthorne himself opened his first bakery in the Bronx back in 1989. Today, there are more than 100 franchises across the country, with one in Orlando, one in Kissimmee and three more slated to open on John Young Parkway, in Ocala and in Clermont.

Having devoured Jamaican beef patties since childhood, I can't say I was all that impressed with the ones served here. Sure, the turmeric-yellow crust of the beef patty ($1.20) is as advertised, but the somewhat overprocessed seasoned meat lacks the essential spice to give it that gusto ' no slivers of Scotch bonnet peppers; no stinging vinegary-ness. It's as if GK is purposely toning it down for mass appeal. The end result is a decent, though not great, patty. Same goes for the vegetable version ($1.40) with steamed carrots, cabbage and broccoli pulp filling inside a whole wheat pastry, and the fish patty ($1.80) with seasoned cod. Both fell a little flat. One good thing is that for 75 cents, you can order your patty with no filling at all.

(Aside: If you're a true patty-head like myself, head down the road to the Caribbean Sunshine Bakery, located on the corner of Colonial and John Young Parkway, where the patties are more corpulent, crumbly and fiery.)

The jerk chicken ($6.50) fared a whole lot better. Five chunks of bone-in chicken rubbed with jerk seasoning and doused with jerk sauce gave it a righteous flavor. Curried goat ($6.99) is an exotic dish often enjoyed by hungry island expats looking for a taste of home, and the fatty pieces of meat lolling in rich, luxuriant gravy easily made this my favorite dish. Also worth a try is the oxtail ($8.25), the slowly braised, slightly gelatinous and subtly sweet meat that's similar in texture and taste to beef brisket. All the above dishes were ordered 'small,â?� but were generously heaped with meat, rice and peas (the 'peasâ?� here being red beans) and steamed veggies.

Post-meal pastries and baked goods are plentiful and made on-site. I liked the moist, buttery carrot cake ($2) with its semisweet icing layered with walnuts. Rock cake ($1.15), a crunchy-on-the-outside, soft-on-the-inside mound of coconut cake with raisins, is best enjoyed with a spot of tea or, better yet, Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee (neither of which are available here, unfortunately). Bun and cheese ($2) features a thick wedge of mild cheddar between two thicker slabs of sugary, raisin-specked spice buns. A dense treat, to say the least.

The space itself is anything but. It's airy and brightly lit with a pounding R&B beat and Carib vibe. Just call ahead, as they're prone to shutting down before the posted closing time of 9 p.m. After all, island fare and island time are a matched set.

There's no love lost between the Greeks and the Turks ' invasions, wars, cultural boasts and religious differences have all helped to fan the flames of animosity between the two proud nations. So when Greek Flame Taverna left its Winter Park digs and settled on Anatolia's fan the flames of animosity between the two proud nations. So when Greek Flame Taverna left its Winter Park digs and settled on Anatolia's turf in the Dr. Phillips Marketplace, you knew the competitive, and culinary, juices of these two Mediterranean rivals would be flowing. turf in the Dr. Phillips Marketplace, you knew the competitive, and culinary, juices of these two Mediterranean rivals would be flowing. (The same, sadly, can't be said about GFT's chicken souvlaki, but more on that in a bit.) We've dined at both Anatolia and Greek Flame (The same, sadly, can't be said about GFT's chicken souvlaki, but more on that in a bit.) We've dined at both Anatolia and Greek Flame multiple times and we can state, without equivocation, that when it comes to straight-up Mediterranean classics ' kebabs, döner/gyros, without equivocation, that when it comes to straight-up Mediterranean classics ' kebabs, döner/gyros, grape leaves, honeyed pastries, sludgy coffee and the like ' Anatolia's dishes are unquestionably superior.

Now them ain't fightin' words, just our humble opinion. Where GFT does shine is in the more uncommon offerings. Take the taramosalata, for instance. We fightin' words, just our humble opinion. Where GFT does shine is in the more uncommon offerings. Take the taramosalata, for instance. We couldn't quite gauge the flavor in the fluffy cream-colored spread, one of a quartet of dips comprising the 'silogi� ($12), but when the couldn't quite gauge the flavor in the fluffy cream-colored spread, one of a quartet of dips comprising the 'silogi� ($12), but when the mystery ingredient was revealed to be caviar, we liked it all the more. We also didn't mind dipping our fried pita triangles into mystery ingredient was revealed to be caviar, we liked it all the more. We also didn't mind dipping our fried pita triangles into refreshing melitzanosalata, an eggplant salsa of sorts; garlicky skordalia, a potato-garlic puree; and the ubiquitous creamy tzatziki. refreshing melitzanosalata, an eggplant salsa of sorts; garlicky skordalia, a potato-garlic puree; and the ubiquitous creamy tzatziki. Kreatopita, a flaky beef-and-pine-nut-filled pie, highlighted an otherwise ho-hum platter of pre-entrée pastries ($15) that included Kreatopita, a flaky beef-and-pine-nut-filled pie, highlighted an otherwise ho-hum platter of pre-entrée pastries ($15) that included tiropita (cheese pie) with too much parsley and an uninspired spanakopita (spinach pie). The latter two were a bit of a letdown and had me tiropita (cheese pie) with too much parsley and an uninspired spanakopita (spinach pie). The latter two were a bit of a letdown and had me longing for the flaky wonders found in the Greek bakeries off Dodecanese Boulevard in Tarpon Springs.

From the healthy selection of mains, the kleftico ($18) intrigued with slices of slow-roasted leg of lamb mixed with veggies and feta baked in a parchment bag. The mains, the kleftico ($18) intrigued with slices of slow-roasted leg of lamb mixed with veggies and feta baked in a parchment bag. The result was nothing short of outstanding: tender lamb infused with saltiness from the cheese mixed with still-crisp peppers of all colors result was nothing short of outstanding: tender lamb infused with saltiness from the cheese mixed with still-crisp peppers of all colors and perfectly cooked mushrooms and potatoes. The other items we sampled just didn't pass muster ' lackluster fried calamari ($8) required and perfectly cooked mushrooms and potatoes. The other items we sampled just didn't pass muster ' lackluster fried calamari ($8) required deep dunks into the roasted garlic aioli to extract any semblance of flavor; and chicken souvlaki ($18), a dish that every Greek kouzina deep dunks into the roasted garlic aioli to extract any semblance of flavor; and chicken souvlaki ($18), a dish that every Greek kouzina should master, was thoroughly zapped of any moisture. The fact that the dish came with just one skewer and a miserly portion of rice made should master, was thoroughly zapped of any moisture. The fact that the dish came with just one skewer and a miserly portion of rice made it an unqualified failure.

Desserts offer some sweet redemption in the form of chocolate baklava ($5) ' here it takes the shape of a circular pie instead of a triangular wedge. We would've preferred a little more phyllo, but the honeyed treat was chock full of nuts. a circular pie instead of a triangular wedge. We would've preferred a little more phyllo, but the honeyed treat was chock full of nuts. Homemade dark chocolate, vanilla wafers and pistachios go into making the chocolate pyramid ($8), a dense capper served with two scoops of Homemade dark chocolate, vanilla wafers and pistachios go into making the chocolate pyramid ($8), a dense capper served with two scoops of black cherry ice cream (not made in-house).

While our servers were thorough, knowledgeable and attentive, the hostess, after seating us and announcing the Grecian-named specials of the evening, couldn't tell us what anything about said specials besides their seating us and announcing the Grecian-named specials of the evening, couldn't tell us what anything about said specials besides their names. That didn't make a good first impression, and it's precisely those intangible elements, along with a skilled kitchen, that separate names. That didn't make a good first impression, and it's precisely those intangible elements, along with a skilled kitchen, that separate restaurants that rise to the top from those relegated to Sisyphean frustration.

Amid a bustle of pre- and post-pubescent mallrats, a Greek man is boldly bringing a French delicacy to the masses. Some say they're wussy pancakes; some say ça c'est bon, but either way you flip it, crepes are a street-food staple and Konstantinos Chilias, aka chef Dino, is griddling at the chance to find converts in the Sunshine State. Sure, a food court isn't the most likely place to find a creperie, but when you think about it, it makes sense. Indoor street fare is essentially what food courts serve up, and Dino's brand of delicate made-to-order flappe-jacques are worthy of a traipse into the Orlando Fashion Square Mall fray.

Leafing through the menu, I was struck at the number of sweet and savory crepes ' nearly 70 are offered. Even by Parisian standards, that's an impressive amount, but what really impresses is that quality doesn't suffer as a result. 'Mall foodâ?� and 'qualityâ?� are often thought of as being mutually exclusive, but the friendly Grecian is doing his part to alter that perception one gourmet crepe at a time.

Ushering in this new era in food-court dining has taken chef Dino halfway 'round the globe, from humble beginnings hawking crepes on the thoroughfares of Paris in the early 1980s to owning and operating cafés on the Greek isle of Rhodes, in Long Beach, Calif., and, most recently, in Ybor City. Odd he would choose a mall in Orlando as his next conquest, though he admits his ultimate plan is to open a storefront café downtown or in Winter Park.

Yearning for a light meal on my initial visit, I opted for 'La Creperie Special� ($8.25), a creamy mélange of mushrooms, spinach, tomatoes, green peppers and caramelized onions enveloped by a slightly crisp whole-wheat crepe. Every fromage-filled bite satisfied, accompanied with Dino's fresh-squeezed, though lip-pursingly sour, lemonade ($3.75), and I couldn't help but feel sorry for the folks lining up at Sbarro and JJ's Cajun.

Vegetarians can have a field day here, no doubt, but I have to say I enjoyed the chicken-filled 'La Parisâ?� ($8.25) even more; it balanced perfectly the flavors of feta, spinach and roasted red peppers. On another visit, I sampled the 'turkey a la brieâ?� ($7.50), which proved to be my favorite. Layered with square slivers of turkey, diced tomato and gooey brie, the dish is made magnifique by Dino's secret cream sauce.

It took me awhile to decide on a sweet crepe, but I eventually settled on the 'Marie Antoinetteâ?� ($7.25) with Nutella, banana, strawberries and Baileys liqueur. The batter, made with fine baker's flour, is properly brushed around a hotplate, resulting in a light, ultra-thin pancake. Watching the cook prepare my indulgence, I noticed the bananas he used were overripe, the peel nearly black. Then walnuts were sprinkled into my crepe, after which I realized they weren't making a Marie Antoinette at all. What I got instead was a decent enough sweet crepe, but the miscue brought to light some of the service deficiencies apparent when Dino isn't present (usually on weekends). The staff, sans Dino, can get a bit out of sorts when serving two or more customers at a time; on this occasion they mixed up my order, forgot the 'Berry Appealingâ?� smoothie ($4) I ordered and forgot to charge me for dessert.

On another visit, Dino himself prepared the classic crepes suzette (known here as 'Madame Suzette,� $7.75), and though a flambé failed to materialize, the crepe was everything I hoped it would be: a buttered and sugared crepe drizzled with Grand Marnier, splashed with fresh lemon and orange juice, folded into a triangle and drizzled with more Grand Marnier.

Since the demise of Maison des Crepes in Winter Park, crepeheads haven't had a venue in which to satisfy their cravings. But chef Dino is as determined as King Leonidas to change that, and I wouldn't be surprised to see one of his stand-alone creperies open in town sooner than later.

But for now, we dine in (mall) hell.

I can't say my initial visit to this German steakhouse on a Saturday night got off to a particularly good start. For one, I didn't eat anything because I wasn't seated; and I wasn't seated because I didn't have a reservation; and I didn't have a reservation because all my previous calls to the place went unanswered. Exiting in a mild huff, I resigned myself to the fact that I'd have to drive back another day, but not before calling them four additional times from my car, which served no purpose other than to provide a little microwaved warmth to my cerebellum. When I finally did get a human voice on the line many days later, it was none other than Matthew Winter himself. When asked why they didn't answer their phone between the hours of 5 p.m. and 9:30 p.m. the previous Saturday, he responded, 'We were probably too busy to pick up the phone.â?� Whatever, man.

So back to Ocoee it was and, this time, a dimly lit booth amidst Bavarian chalet bric-a-brac beckoned. I have to say it felt pretty homey. Not sure why a lava lamp bubbled near the coffee machine ' perhaps to add a personable element, because the Winters don't exactly foster an environment of convivial warmth. Rather, a cool Teutonic efficiency pervades, not unlike that of a Volkswagen assembly line, where diners submit to the culinary equivalent of Fahrvergnügen.

There's a German dish or two on the menu ' bratwurst ($9), for example, and a wonderful paprika-tinged beef goulash ($6) that was more a soup than a stew. The shallow bowl didn't hold $6 worth of goulash, in my opinion, but the sublime essence had me craving more. Wedges in the tomato- avocado salad ($9) were bathed in a tangy vinaigrette and sprinkled with crispy roasted soybeans ' an interesting addition.

As a steakhouse, Matthew's lies in the meaty murk between family and premium, with cuts being of the Supreme Angus Beef variety, a USDA Choice, not Prime, grade. Rump steak also makes the menu here in the form of 8-, 10- and 12-ounce New York strips. A New York strip is traditionally a cut from the tender short loin, not the rear, but the fatless rump steak medallions on the mixed steak skewer ($20) were as tender and flavorful as any cut demanding a beefier price. Interspersed on the miniature sword were chunks of filet and even a stray chicken morsel, it, too, deliciously seasoned and tender.

The ribeye steak ($26) had more than the usual amount of marbling, but was cooked to order over their cherry and oak-wood open grill. The baked potato, which I slathered with their homemade sour cream, was the perfect side.

An 18-ounce porterhouse ($37), dubbed 'The Melbourne,â?� is also offered, but it's a lightweight compared to those offered at other steakhouses around town, including Outback.

Black Forest cake was surprisingly absent from the menu, but I enjoyed the German cheesecake ($6) with its light and fluffy filling and cakey crust. I also liked the German chocolate cake ($6), a warm marble cake dusted with powdered sugar and served with a dollop each of chocolate ice cream and fresh whipped cream.

Ã?bermensch he's not, but Matthew and his folks run a surprisingly superior strip-mall steakhouse; if only they were as adept at running over to the phone when it rings.

We didn't review this location but you can check out the review of The Melting Pot in Longwood.

There's only so much you can do with beans, cheese, rice and a tortilla. It might be called by different names -- burrito, taco, fajita -- but unless the layers are put together well and the ingredients taste distinctly fresh, it's all pretty much beans, cheese and rice.

Seven years ago Atlanta businessman Martin Sprock opened the first location of what would become the 140-store Planet Smoothie chain. Moe's Southwest Grill, on the ever-expanding food corridor of Sand Lake Road, is Orlando's first taste of Sprock's latest endeavor, serving freshly made tortilla-wrapped ingredients with unusual names. The chain already has spread from Atlanta to Jacksonville, Mississippi and North Carolina. "No freezer, no microwave" is a boast the restaurant makes, and it claims to prepare everything from scratch.

Seven years ago Atlanta businessman Martin Sprock opened the first location of what would become the 140-store Planet Smoothie chain. Moe's Southwest Grill, on the ever-expanding food corridor of Sand Lake Road, is Orlando's first taste of Sprock's latest endeavor, serving freshly made tortilla-wrapped ingredients with unusual names. The chain already has spread from Atlanta to Jacksonville, Mississippi and North Carolina. "No freezer, no microwave" is a boast the restaurant makes, and it claims to prepare everything from scratch.

Paintings o f people such as Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and John Lennon look down on you while you eat, complete with sayings like "Give Beans a Chance." There's sort of a Subway sandwich-shop approach to the meals. Once ordered, food is built in front of customers, with choices of add-ons like hot salsa, olives and fresh cilantro. Sounds good -- better, actually, than the finished product. There's not much about the fillings, including the meats (chicken, steak) and tofu (a pleasant surprise), that make them stand out. A sprinkling of cold cheese on top of cold beans isn't terribly exciting, no matter how clever the names.

Paintings o f people such as Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and John Lennon look down on you while you eat, complete with sayings like "Give Beans a Chance." There's sort of a Subway sandwich-shop approach to the meals. Once ordered, food is built in front of customers, with choices of add-ons like hot salsa, olives and fresh cilantro. Sounds good -- better, actually, than the finished product. There's not much about the fillings, including the meats (chicken, steak) and tofu (a pleasant surprise), that make them stand out. A sprinkling of cold cheese on top of cold beans isn't terribly exciting, no matter how clever the names.

Most of Moe's items are named after TV or movie characters. "Art Vandalay" ($4.69), a vegetarian mix of rice, beans, cheese, salsa and guacamole, is from "Seinfeld." The "Pinky Tuscadero" salad ($4.99) is a throwback to "Happy Days," while the "Sherman Klump" ($2.99), a cheese and salsa quesadilla, reminded Sprock of "The Nutty Professor."

Most of Moe's items are named after TV or movie characters. "Art Vandalay" ($4.69), a vegetarian mix of rice, beans, cheese, salsa and guacamole, is from "Seinfeld." The "Pinky Tuscadero" salad ($4.99) is a throwback to "Happy Days," while the "Sherman Klump" ($2.99), a cheese and salsa quesadilla, reminded Sprock of "The Nutty Professor."

Quesadillas are actually the best thing on the menu; a quick toss on a hot grill makes the ingredients come together inside the now-crunchy shell.

Quesadillas are actually the best thing on the menu; a quick toss on a hot grill makes the ingredients come together inside the now-crunchy shell.

By definition, fajitas ($6.99 to $7.99) include grilled onions and peppers, but not at Moe's: If you don't order them (for an extra 80 cents), all you get is steamed tortillas and a dish of meat, lettuce, salsa and cheese. Moe's breaks away from the salsa-bar trend and offers only two; a green tomatillo and a hot sauce that looked so watery I was afraid to touch it.

By definition, fajitas ($6.99 to $7.99) include grilled onions and peppers, but not at Moe's: If you don't order them (for an extra 80 cents), all you get is steamed tortillas and a dish of meat, lettuce, salsa and cheese. Moe's breaks away from the salsa-bar trend and offers only two; a green tomatillo and a hot sauce that looked so watery I was afraid to touch it.

It's up to the frozen margaritas to make most of the menu items more exciting.

It isn't often that restaurants go to war over names. But in June, Ron Woodsby, whose company owns the Fishbones chain, took Bonefish Grill to court, claiming their similar name and logo of a fish skeleton was violating trademark and confusing customers.

Then he opens Moonfish, a mile down Sand Lake Road from Fishbones and across the street from his competitor. (A moonfish, by the way, is called "opah" in Hawaii.) And why use "bone" to name a fish spot anyway?

Then he opens Moonfish, a mile down Sand Lake Road from Fishbones and across the street from his competitor. (A moonfish, by the way, is called "opah" in Hawaii.) And why use "bone" to name a fish spot anyway?

But a lot of thought and effort has gone into the design of the nonbony Moonfish, from the cast-metal opah on the front door to the magnificent art glass in the dining rooms. Everything revolves around fish. Hanging lights over the hectic bar look like little octopuses, and a giant tropical fish tank is echoed in video screens in the rest rooms. Walk around behind the sushi bar to see the catch of the day displayed next to the open kitchen -- clear eyes and bright, firm fish abound.

But a lot of thought and effort has gone into the design of the nonbony Moonfish, from the cast-metal opah on the front door to the magnificent art glass in the dining rooms. Everything revolves around fish. Hanging lights over the hectic bar look like little octopuses, and a giant tropical fish tank is echoed in video screens in the rest rooms. Walk around behind the sushi bar to see the catch of the day displayed next to the open kitchen -- clear eyes and bright, firm fish abound.

Don't plan on rushing through a meal at Moonfish; whether it's busy or quiet, things take a very long time. Our server gave new meaning to "wait staff," and the space between courses went way beyond luxurious and into interminable.

Don't plan on rushing through a meal at Moonfish; whether it's busy or quiet, things take a very long time. Our server gave new meaning to "wait staff," and the space between courses went way beyond luxurious and into interminable.

But while waiting for a table you can order immaculately prepared sushi like "dancing eel," which combines broiled eel, king crab and avocado, or the "yum-yum" roll of tuna, salmon and fried yellowtail (both $11.95). The expertise of their fish-buyer is evident in these jewels.

But while waiting for a table you can order immaculately prepared sushi like "dancing eel," which combines broiled eel, king crab and avocado, or the "yum-yum" roll of tuna, salmon and fried yellowtail (both $11.95). The expertise of their fish-buyer is evident in these jewels.

Portions are enormous, and when a dish hits the mark, it couldn't be better. A giant steamer full of Prince Edward Island mussels in garlic and white wine ($10.95) is worth the trip by itself. The open, citrus and oak-fired grill does wonderful things to the Oscar mignon, a thick sirloin filet topped with crab and Hollandaise (yes, good steak in a fish house; $20.95).

Portions are enormous, and when a dish hits the mark, it couldn't be better. A giant steamer full of Prince Edward Island mussels in garlic and white wine ($10.95) is worth the trip by itself. The open, citrus and oak-fired grill does wonderful things to the Oscar mignon, a thick sirloin filet topped with crab and Hollandaise (yes, good steak in a fish house; $20.95).

The "catch" menu changes daily, and lists not only the fish, but who caught it and where -- giving map coordinates. I didn't write down who caught my tilefish ($23.95) but it was a mild and moist one. The "chef's mixed grill," ($21.95) however, gets demerits for whoever picked our oily mahi-mahi and salmon, which were unimaginative choices from such an extensive variety. And serving overcooked shrimp scampi in such environs is practically criminal.

The "catch" menu changes daily, and lists not only the fish, but who caught it and where -- giving map coordinates. I didn't write down who caught my tilefish ($23.95) but it was a mild and moist one. The "chef's mixed grill," ($21.95) however, gets demerits for whoever picked our oily mahi-mahi and salmon, which were unimaginative choices from such an extensive variety. And serving overcooked shrimp scampi in such environs is practically criminal.

So Moonfish does occasionally miss the mark; still, in terms of the food overall, it turns out to be a lucky entry in the growing number of "concept" restaurants. No bones about it.

Some images naturally evoke romance – not the Harlequin variety, but a more decadent version made up of long, luscious nights of freedom and beauty, love and passion. For me, this fantasy is colored in a tropical patina that conjures Havana in the 1950s, something the Samba Room also effects. OK, so you're not exactly sitting oceanfront at a deco hotel sipping mojitos: You know you're in a suburban strip mall that sidles up to a sinkhole. But you don't really care because you're having fun, eating good food, and the atmosphere is convivial and very romantic.

Samba Room's change of ownership back in 2003, from Carlson Restaurant Group (TGI Fridays) to E-Brands Restaurants, has done it justice. E-Brands has a careful hand in the kitchen and a wonderful way of creating ambience.

"Would you like to sit inside," the smiley hostess asked, "or out by the lake?"

Inside was festive and enticing with loud Latin music and brightly colored Diego Rivera-esque murals. Airy white curtains, so gossamer that every draft becomes a tropical breeze, bring life to the darkest corners. But it was a beautiful night, so we chose to dine outside by the lake. We sat, sipping cocktails beneath white rattan paddle fans, and peered inside at larger parties crowded around tables, talking loudly, laughing, engaged in each others' company under russet-orange lights. This is what you call casual elegance.

We started with an order of Samba ceviche ($8.95), which mixed market-fresh fish, shrimp, red onions and colorful peppers in a lime marinade. Pleasantly tangy, the dish swelled with flavor, balancing acidity and salinity. My mouth never puckered with displeasure. The roasted hominy on the side added satisfying texture to the delicious dish.

The empanada sampler ($7.95) consisted of both sweet corn and pork varieties. Surprisingly, we liked the nontraditional sweet corn because it had fuller flavor and more filling. Both of the delicious sauces served with the empanadas were delicate fusions. Listed as "sofrito" (annatto-infused lard with vegetable garniture) and "aji amarillo" (a lemony capsicum from Latin America), they were modern streaks of emulsified flavor, distant cousins to the traditional varieties, running down an edge of the plate.

For my main course, I tried Spanish paella ($25.50). Tiny red strands of saffron spattered the mound of rice laced with calamari, shrimp, white fish, chicken and some of the biggest mussels I've ever seen. The deep, earthy, subtle perfume of saffron followed the dish out of the open kitchen into the air. Half of a Maine lobster was the crown jewel of the dish.

My partner got the pork barbacoa ($18.95), marinated and roasted in banana leaves. Unwrapping the leaves, he found a tender piece of pork nestled under a blanket of sweet, citrusy barbecue sauce.

We were intrigued by the shiitake mushrooms al ajillo ($3.95) that spectacularly showcased traditional Asian mushrooms in Latin garlic sauce.

I was about to burst when the espresso tres leches ($6) and guava cheesecake ($6) were delivered. I ate half of the excellent Kahlua-spiked tres leches before switching plates for a bite or two of the zesty cheesecake. The server brought café con leche ($4.50) to end our meal, and we sat looking over the still Florida water, slowly sipping the creamy, sweet coffee.

"We should plan a trip to Cuba," I said, as we walked under industrial fluorescents across the vast suburban parking lot.

We all shed a wasabi-tinged tear when Oyaji shut its doors after more than a decade of serving some of the finest sushi in the city. Its hidden-gem status lent further cause among sushi cognoscenti, not to mention the contingent of Japanese patrons, to keep their fishy yaps shut when it came to spreading the word about the place.

But dry your weary eyes and prick up your ears, dear readers, because Ochiai Hidehiko, head blade at Sushi Tomi, is poised to step into the role relinquished by Takashi Hayakawa. So Sushi Tomi's digs are about as inviting as a badly lit basement apartment and its proximity to a Super Wal-Mart doesn't exactly entice ' such annoyances don't seem to bother diners here, a good number of whom, I'm happy to report, are of Japanese descent. You'll hear murmurs of 'Ita-dakimasu,â?� the pre-meal Japanese utterance akin to saying grace, followed by cries of 'Oishi!â?� (delicious!), thanks to the healthy sampling of sushi and authentic Japanese fare offered.

Having been denied the pleasure of nibbling on gyoza ($4), those delectable little potstickers they had just run out of, we opted for the gyu tataki ($8.50) instead ' buttery soft slices of rare beef dressed with scallions and sparked with lemony ponzu. Suffice it to say, the Lucky Cat atop the sushi bar shone a little culinary beneficence on us. I wish I could say the same for the overly pasty sweet purple potato tempura ($4.50) and the small bowl of soggy edamame ($3.50), but the sushi is what people come here for, and in that respect Hidehiko, former head chef at Ran-Getsu on I-Drive, doesn't disappoint.

His sunshine roll ($9.50) was described as 'a mouthful of awesomeâ?� by my dining partner, and I couldn't have agreed more. The colorfully impressive bundle of tuna, salmon, yellowtail and whitefish rolled in a wheel of crunchy cucumber made an emphatic impression ' it was certainly one of the finer rolls I've sampled in the city. Aesthetics played a part in the samurai roll ($9.75) as well, the soft shell of avocado molded atop spicy tuna being a must for those who like a little fire with their flair.

My favorite was the impeccably carved fatty tuna nigiri (market price) which felt like foie gras on the palate. I could've downed a dozen of these toro alone ' a prospect I'm seriously considering on my next visit. Sesame overwhelmed the well-formed cherry dragon roll ($10.95), but the mix of eel, tuna, cucumber and spicy mayo created a warm and delicate balance of flavors.

While the maraschino cherry and whipped cream were superfluous embellishments to the red bean ice cream ($3.50), the icy treat's essence is just what you want in your mouth when walking out the door. Partly frozen, partly creamy tempura cheesecake ($4.75) was marred by inconsistent texture and temperature, and left me with an undesirable heaviness antithetical to the typical sushi-going experience. Then again, from the kind and charming staff and the reasonable prices to the hideously colored walls and the exceptional rolls fashioned by chef Hidehiko, Sushi Tomi is anything but typical.

Since we're having to broaden our knowledge about exotic countries these days, it's probably a good time to note that Thailand (the former Siam, a culture shaped by Chinese, Indian, Cambodian and Malaysian influences -- yet apart from them) is a huge place. Narrowing "Thai food" down to pad thai and green curry is like saying that "American food" is New England clam chowder and grits. There are enough regional variations in Thai cuisine to fuel 100 more restaurants, and the variations at Sawadee Thai are welcome.

Sawadee Thai opened in February without much fanfare. Nestled between a Domino's Pizza and a chrome-wheel store, it doesn't have the dazzle of the nearby Hooters, and you may miss it. But it seems to be a popular place for area residents. This was previously 1st Wok, and there's an incongruous remnant of a sushi bar hidden in the corner. It's a small, strip mallish place, nicely lit with deep gold walls and a lovely terra cotta tile floor.

Sawadee Thai opened in February without much fanfare. Nestled between a Domino's Pizza and a chrome-wheel store, it doesn't have the dazzle of the nearby Hooters, and you may miss it. But it seems to be a popular place for area residents. This was previously 1st Wok, and there's an incongruous remnant of a sushi bar hidden in the corner. It's a small, strip mallish place, nicely lit with deep gold walls and a lovely terra cotta tile floor.

The menu is large enough to make choices difficult. Tod mun pla ($3.99), small fishcakes similar to the stuffing inside dumplings, comes mingled with cool sliced cucumber in a sweet vinegar and spicy red- pepper dressing. Papaya salad (som tam, $4.99), a very typical Northeast Thailand appetizer, starts out light and crispy, the spaghetti strands of green papaya hiding the fact that it is one hot dish. With anything on the menu, unless you're a pepper fanatic, even the "mild" setting may be too high in spiciness.

The menu is large enough to make choices difficult. Tod mun pla ($3.99), small fishcakes similar to the stuffing inside dumplings, comes mingled with cool sliced cucumber in a sweet vinegar and spicy red- pepper dressing. Papaya salad (som tam, $4.99), a very typical Northeast Thailand appetizer, starts out light and crispy, the spaghetti strands of green papaya hiding the fact that it is one hot dish. With anything on the menu, unless you're a pepper fanatic, even the "mild" setting may be too high in spiciness.

Crispy fish with lemongrass ($12.95) is a simple white fish (I believe it was pollack that night, but it changes with the market), flour-coated and fried, served atop peppers and onions, with a pleasantly spicy coconut milk and peanut-curry sauce. Ask for the sauce on the side to let the fish stay crispy longer, and order the fish filleted instead of whole.

Crispy fish with lemongrass ($12.95) is a simple white fish (I believe it was pollack that night, but it changes with the market), flour-coated and fried, served atop peppers and onions, with a pleasantly spicy coconut milk and peanut-curry sauce. Ask for the sauce on the side to let the fish stay crispy longer, and order the fish filleted instead of whole.

I'm getting rather fond of duck and, if you order the duck with basil ($14.95), you'll understand why. Thai rice is at its best when soaking up liquids, and it served its purpose well with this rich, lime and basil-flavored sauce and savory combination of dark duck meat and spinachlike basil leaves. They do have the standards -- pad thai ($8.95) and summer rolls -- and they are also good.

I'm getting rather fond of duck and, if you order the duck with basil ($14.95), you'll understand why. Thai rice is at its best when soaking up liquids, and it served its purpose well with this rich, lime and basil-flavored sauce and savory combination of dark duck meat and spinachlike basil leaves. They do have the standards -- pad thai ($8.95) and summer rolls -- and they are also good.

The young staff is casually attentive beyond expectations. I was asked about every permutation of my order -- how spicy, how much rice. I attempted to order an eggplant dish, but they were out of eggplant. They were also out of takeout menus, and were unable to take American Express when I was there. Hope-fully the "outs" won't get in the way of the good stuff.

Friendly family owned Japanese restaurant in MetroWest Orlando. Because we are a family business, we treat our customers like family.