Tampa has a lot of multitude of fantastic things to offer an out of town visitor, but only if you really, really like strip clubs.

If you don’t, that takes out about pretty much anything you’d want to do around the city except to go to a football game and drink.

No, wait, that’s not fair. Daddy didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.

There is Ybor City, which actually stands as a little neighborhood in Tampa that’s well known for its pedestrian only streets on the weekends, and of more historic notoriety, the Columbia Restaurant. This cigar shop/flamenco show/restaurant boasts seven locations throughout Florida, with the Ybor City location being the original, and it shows.  Columbia owns an entire block, split up into a souvenir shop, a flamenco show & dinner restaurant, and a separate restaurant for just meals, all in spacious, quirky rooms. Columbia also happens to be Florida’s oldest restaurant, established in 1905, so a good amount of history and stories goes along with the name.

Jen started with an appetizer of Black Bean Cakes, served with sour cream and guacamole. These hush puppy shaped cakes were tasty, but nothing too out of the ordinary.  A good dish to start your meal and whet your appetite.

I took a chance and went with the ’1905′ salad. The ingredients are almost typical for a Chef’s Salad, but with the tableside preparation and the unique Columbia dressing with elements of freshly squeezed lemon and Worcestershire sauce, I was hooked on this salad.  Worcestershire isn’t exactly 100% Paleo, but hey, neither am I.

Technically Paleo.

Jen’s entree, the Pasta con Trufas “Cristalino” was a plate of pasta pockets, stuffed with truffle and cheese, simmered in a creamy sauce made with Cristalino sparking Spanish wine. Odd, but a nice touch.

My entree, the Filet Mignon “Chacho”, named after the youngest son of the founder, Evelio “Chacho” Hernandez. A center cut filet mignon served with the most amazing roasted potatoes I’ve had in years, then left swimming in a bourbon, shallot, and mushroom sauce.  The server then comes with a shot of Booker Noe bourbon and sets the filet mignon on fire at your table.

It’s at this point I realize that the entire family is probably a string of alcoholics, as it seems like everything is cooked with alcohol.

It’s shortly after this realization does our server tell us the history of the “Chacho”.  It turns out Evelio would come in and open the restaurant in the morning, and immediately get set on making the coffee for the day. He’d go across the street to the bar for a few eye openers, followed by a few more eye openers for good measure. He’d be quite hhhhhhhammered at this point, and the coffee, left unattended and burning, would set the restaurant on fire.

This would happen on numerous occasions, with the same thing happening over and over again, with Chacho repeatedly setting the restaurant on fire.  It happened so many times that, eventually, the restaurant would be threatened to have their insurance revoked if somebody did not stop Chacho from making the coffee.

Chacho has since passed away, but his memory lives on every time a customers requests this dish and has their previous dish set ablaze.

The food is actually pretty good given that I had fairly low expectations of Ybor City.  The service is awesome and very friendly, despite Jen and I hearing at least three glasses being dropped in the span of our meal (none from our server, who never even flinched once). The atmosphere is a little odd, but given the history of the establishment, I’m willing to believe there are some great stories with every wall and tile.  I highly recommend taking a dinner here if you find yourself in Ybor City or Tampa.

See Columbia Restaurant on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Paleoheads
• Vegetarians
• Pyromaniacs
• Business Meetings

Not Recommended For:

• Nyctophobics
• Marriage Proposals
• AA Meetings
• Bears

Oh Mexico is one of nine restaurants owned by the V&E Group throughout South Beach and Miami.  This particular establishment was a referral by the concierge of our hotel as a decent place to get Mexican food for a light lunch, but still within walking distance of our hotel.

Now that I was well accustomed to the rules of dining at South Beach restaurants, Jen and I actually caught the Menu Girl off guard to seat us.  Usually it’s the other way around.  A pretty girl who I call, appropriately, the Menu Girl, is used as the bait for most restaurants to lure in passerbys (see also: men) in eating at a particular restaurant.

Having just missed the lunch rush, we got a great table along Espanola Way (where a heavy Latin influence can be seen, natch) for people watching and to enjoy the warm air.  The picnic style tables proudly show their patina in the Miami sun, as weathered as the sunscreen-free faces that skitter along the streets of the city.

Oh Mexico offers a vast array of specialty Margaritas that tend to be on the most expensive side at around $11 each, but definitely don’t skimp on the alcohol or quality.  Jen’s margarita gave me a buzz immediately followed by a wicked hangover just thinking about it.  A little bit light on the quantity, but these drinks manage to arrive as a veritable parade float nonetheless.

We split an order of the guacamole to accompany the fresh tortilla chips as our appetizer.  While it wasn’t really anything to write home about (which, I suppose, I’m doing right now.  Damnit.) it manages to be your standard array of fresh guacamole and a trio of salsas.  If you’re absolutely dying for some guacamole, this’ll do the trick, but given the opportunity, I doubt I’d order this one again.

Oh Mexico’s specialty are their Molcajetes – giant stone mortars filled with tomato sauce, vegetables, melted cheeses, chorizo, meats, and a side of soft corn tortillas.  The stone mortar helps keep this dish bubbling and hot well after being delivered to your table, with an impressive display of Mexicanery.

The meats were well prepared, and the spicy tomato sauce is literally making my mouth water just remembering how good this dish was.  I felt a little cheated in the cheese department, as the only cheese in this dish is about as much as you can see from the photo above, but everything else about this beef molcajete was a win for me.

While this restaurant isn’t going to win any awards, they do make an effort to create a unique dining experience with their own dishes and drinks.  As with most restaurants in South Beach, a 17% gratuity is included in your bill, and prices are a little bit more on the high range for lunch (the beef molcajete was $19).  The scenery is a little less exciting than what you find strolling along Ocean Drive, but the food is still satisfying to the last bite.  I’m certain there are better Mexican places that simply need to be discovered by Jen and I, but to satiate that craving, Oh Mexico fits the bill.

Oh Mexico can be seen on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Paleo heads
• Zone dieters
• Vegetarians
• Parade Junkies
• Margaritaville Mayhem

Not Recommended For:

• Frugalistas
• Mexi-snobos

Jen and I were out to meet some of her friends at the Bimini Boatyard & Grill in Fort Lauderdale, just a short drive from the busy streets of South Beach.  It has all the pre-requisites for an interesting evening.

• Yellow Lamborghini Gallardo parked out front, surrounded by orange safety cones?  Check.
• Boat dock waterfront location? Check.
• Blonde grabbing her tit at a police cruiser slowly creeping by in the parking lot? Check.

The restaurant inside is themed just as the name would imply.  Not so heavy on the pirates, scurvy, or people throwing up out the windows necessarily, but more of the whitewashed wood walls, nautical instruments, and a fantastic view of the moonlit piers that sit behind the property.  There’s a large bar immediately to the left of the entrance where we met up with Jen’s friends, and we quickly were escorted to our booth.  We were originally supposed to have a table near the windows to enjoy the view of the docks, but were seated in a totally different location.  Not wanting to create a big fuss, we took our seat, and started into exploring the menu.

Bimini offers a large expanse of selections, from seafood (natch), steaks, and pastas.  We were immediately informed that the restaurant had unfortunately run out of the prime rib, filet mignon, and grouper, but we otherwise we were still given a fairly sizeable menu to choose from.  The ‘World Famous Bimini Bread’ was an obvious start, as well was the Bimini Seafood Chowder.

The bread comess out as a pre-sliced honey glazed loaf that tears apart into perfectly bite sized shreds.  As the restaurant specialty, Bimini knocks this one out of the park.  Maybe not ‘the most amazing bread’ I’ve ever had, but still, very, very good.  I was almost a little upset there was so little, because this dish goes fast between four people.  I did, however, find some contentment in the soup that came soon thereafter.

Bimini’s Chowder pushes the envelope of chowderdom by presenting a rich tomato based one rather than one that comes out in the typical white variety you’d expect.  The soup is aromatic, flavorful, and loaded to the gills with seafood and vegetables.  The large island of potato you see on the eastern shore was a bit odd, as if the chef just dropped a giant chunk of potato in while ever other vegetable was cut to small pieces, but it was almost better for me, as I wasn’t really planning on eating it.

And the square bowl?  Well look who’s wearing fancy pants now.

As we sat there and chewed the fat, getting to know each other better and getting up to date with the ongoings of our lives, the waitress came back, and let us know that unfortunately one of the meat dishes and one of the fish dishes had also run out, as well as the baked potato side that was ordered.

For those of you not keeping a tally at home, let’s do a quick recap of what Bimini’s out of:

• Red Meats: 3
• Fish: 2
• Potatoes: 1

We put in a new order for fish, as well as some asparagus instead of the baked potato, and the waitress went to get our new orders in. So we waited.  And we waited.  And we waited.

And as our empty drink glasses began to pile up, we waited some more.

Meteorites the size of Mexico with the sole galactic purpose of obliterating the Earth of all life and habitability don’t come crashing down as fast as our approval of this place.

So what we’re non verbally told is that we’re at a restaurant that doesn’t serve food. Or alcohol.  Just guff.  Lots of excuses, apologies, and guff.  I think I would have even accepted tears at this point as something to placate me.

Several days later, our food finally arrived.  One of Jen’s friend’s entree had a fish that vaguely resembled a shoe sole, with an ice cream scoop of mashed potatoes.  My blackened black grouper even had less of a resemblance of anything edible.

I’ve seen Great Dane’s drop off presents in the grass that look more edible than that.  And in all likelihood, I probably would have enjoyed it more, too.  What do you think of fish?

No, I mean a real fish.

You think of something soft, flaky, and tender, right?  Not dry, stringy, and with more varicose veins underneath than, well… more varicose veins than

I didn’t even know fish had veins!

We stared at the mashed potatoes for a second, and gave some serious questioning as to why they were even there.  As we launched an all out nuclear strike on the waitress, even she looked at the mashed potatoes and said, “Oh, that’s weird.  You’re not supposed to have those.”

What?

I can’t even begin to explain how confusing this place was.  Were we being pranked by a radio station? MTV? What the hell was going on here?  I polished off the majorit of my sweet potato fries and broccolini, but left the fish virtually untouched.  As did Jen’s friends, who weren’t even afforded the luxury of having reasonable sides to eat.  Jen fared a bit better with her pasta, which was edible, but nothing noteworthy.

Infuriated, we suggested that we not be charged for the three entrees that weren’t eaten, and the waitress agreed.  She did spend a good bit of time profusely apologizing, citing reasons that ranged from the fact that the chef wasn’t working that evening to the fact that the large menu was probably too ambitious for a restaurant of its size.  While her excuses were great for planting your spring flowers, they didn’t really do much else for us.  The fact that the restaurant kitchen couldn’t produce too many edible dishes without the chef was a bit alarming, but the fact that our waitress didn’t exactly do a great job trying to make sure our drinks were filled didn’t really help, either.  So where was the chef?

Ah, I see.  He’s busy in the creative process, Googling the latest fantastic Billy Mays products.  Why not?

I wouldn’t ever, ever, ever go back here.  I ended up stopping by the grocery store and eating a pack of deli ham and some pineapple cubes, which were immensely better than my experience at Bimini Boatyard and Grill.  While Bimini does serve some great bread and soup, I wouldn’t expect them to have either of those things should you ever visit, and feel enormously blessed that we were served any food at all.  Should you happen to be forced to eat here, may Jebus have mercy on your soul.

See Bimini on a map here.

Not Recommended For:

• Vegans
• Paleo heads
• Vegetarians
• Frugalistas
• First Dates
• Anniversary Dinners
• Bar-mitzvahs
• Seafood
• Meat’n'Potato types
• Atmosphere
• Service
• Bea Arthur
• Betty White
• Rue McClanahan
• Estelle Getty

As we grow older, it seems to each of us that time passes in our lives at an exponential rate.  The truth of the matter is that our experiences become repetitive, and our minds filter out the mundane and normal.  Our first experiences are the ones that stand out over time, with each proceeding memory something that is subconsciously categorized as less of a memory but just a day as ordinary as other.  You’ll likely remember your first day of school, your first kiss, your first year of college, your first of everything, rather than your second, third, etc.  It is how we have evolved, learning from our first experiences to adapt to everything that live has in store for us thereafter.

With meals and restaurants, your mind works the same.  If you can remember certain food experiences, it was because that meal was in some way or form novel to you, and it “sticks out” among the crowd.

Barton G is one of those places that happens to stick out in my mind.  While it is formally called Barton G, the Restaurant, I would say that a more suitable name is Barton G, the Experience.  Nothing less would describe the meal you eat here, and Jen, having known this, picked this particular place for one of our last nights in Miami.

The restaurant itself is far and away from the busy lights and bustling streets of South Beach, tucked away like a forgotten love letter in the residential streets of South Beach.  I actually questioned Jen at several points whether we were actually in the right place, because there were literally no signs of any sort of business establishments for several blocks.  We finally turned a corner, and under dim lights, was the sign and entrance for Barton G.

The outside seating, if available, is by leaps and bounds better than sitting indoors.  Lush foliage surrounds you, as if you’ve been somehow transported to a secluded tropical destination, free of smoke monsters and mosquitoes.  We lucked out, without a heavy din of patronage that evening, and treated like royalty by our server, doting on our every question and order.

The menu reads like a sly inside joke, with quirky names for every dish offered.  Stabbing wildly in the dark, I opted for the Coconut Crusted Voodoo Shrimp, while Jen started with the Truffe-licious Cream of Cauliflower Soup.

The Coconut Crusted Voodoo Shrimp comes stuffed with crabmeat and a Japanese seaweed salad, served like lollipops in a ominous smoking brew and coupled with a Pineapple and Mango Chutney.  Photos simply do not do this dish justice, as it bubbled like a witch’s cauldron for most of the time it took me to finish these.

Best of all?  These are paleo.  If only all my paleo meals were this good.

Jen’s bowl of soup was less a bowl and more of a vat of Cream of Cauliflower Soup.  Standing at nearly 12 feet tall (or maybe a little bit less than that),  this was quite a heavy dish.  Rich and teeming with truffle flavor, I was enlisted to help Jen and take a few spoonfuls of this myself.  Not quite paleo because of the cream here, but very vegetarian, and even better, something that’s perfect for her given Jen’s affections for cauliflower.

For her main course, Jen ordered the Veg-G-Nocchi.  A fully vegetable themed dish served in a miniature wheelbarrow, the presentation was as good as the dish itself.  The “grass” are actually fresh sprouts, and fully edible, if not a bit …sprouty.  The ricotta gnocchi was very reminscent of my experience of gnudi-  soft, chewy, and soaked in the flavor of the creamy cauliflower puree, sauteed vegetables, and sunchoke chips.  Not as heavy as the preceding dish, but so good Jen couldn’t resist taking the whole thing down.

Courteously, the staff offered to remove the dish out of the wheelbarrow so she didn’t feel like she was eating right out of a feedbag on a farm.  That’s something more along my lines than hers.  What, you’ve never worked through lunch and strapped a feedbag to your face?

My entree, dubbed “This Little Piggy”, was a generous celebration of what the pig has to offer.  A large grilled pork chop on a bed of spaetzle, served with braised pork belly, a copper pot full of creamy brussel sprouts soaking in bacon and a dish of fresh apple puree, this is a pig lover’s dream.  The braised pork belly stands out as nothing short of spectacular.  the grilled pork chop, cooked to request, is succulent, juicy, and an eager recipient of a generous dollop of apple puree.  Spaetzle is actually an egg noodle, so unfortunately not quite paleo, but too hard to pass up.  The chewy texture and buttery taste resonated well with me, and paired with the cuts of pork, an unstoppable assault on my palette.  Amazing.  Even the brussel sprouts were fantastic.  Hearty and cooked to perfection, nothing on this dish did not perfectly complement everything else on stage.

And the dish?

Of course it’s served on a giant wooden pig.

Surprisingly, the two of were begging for mercy at the presentation of the dessert menu.  Each of the desserts enticed us, and the display of a 18″ giant ball of cotton candy to an adjacent table informed us that we were probably better off for not having gone the distance.

While the damage is a bit steep and might temporarily give you a bit of double vision, Barton G is nothing short of a first experience, and well worth the coin, in my opinion.  If I had a single complaint during our entire meal, well, it was the fact that it started to rain as we were leaving.  But that just leaves something for improvement when we go back, right?

Barton G can be seen on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Gastronoms
• Vegetarians
• Paleo heads
• Porker’s Delight

Not Recommended For:

• Zone Dieters
• Frugalistas
• Plain Janes

The La Provence in South Beach doesn’t particularly stand out among the various storefronts it finds itself shouldered between along Collins Avenue.  In fact, one could overlook this restaurant altogether, as I almost did, if it weren’t for Jen. We stopped into the sparsely decorated restaurant for breakfast on a sunny Miami morning, eagerly ready for our first meal of the day.

The front half the restaurant is filled with small tables for dining, while the other half holds a long display case of fresh baked goods and samples of the dishes offered.  The line forms just to the left of the display case with the register at the very back, giving you plenty of time to ogle and salivate over croissants, brioches, quiches, and fruit pastries.  I was intent on staying focused with my diet for this meal, so I quickly eyed the omelets on the menu.  They also offer to cook your eggs any way you want, but they omelets here are huge.  Coupled with the fact that prices are very reasonable, and gratuity is completely optional rather than automatically ratcheting up your bill an additional 17%, it’s hard not to declare this one of the better options for a daily zone or paleo breakfast.

All breakfast and brunch options come with a small salad and a chunk of house made french bread, but  tossing the bread and adding a generously portioned fruit salad to your order will have you good to go for hours until lunchtime.  The omelets here aren’t as unique or exotic as some places in Miami, but realistically, sometimes you just want a simple breakfast that is still well prepared and served to your table post haste.  La Provence accomplishes just that.

The salads here great, too.  I had the Chef Salad with no dressing and a side of oil & vinegar for lunch on a separate occasion, and was equally satisfied with my choice.  Not award winning, but still, easily a good value and something for those who are trying to keep their diet on the rails.

If you’re in South Beach looking for an alternative to the hundreds of pizza parlors and sandwich shoppes, this is it.

See La Provence on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Vegetarians
• Vegans
• Paleo heads
• Zone Dieters
• Frugalistas
• Cheese Eatin’ Surrender Monkeys

Not Recommended For:

• First Dates
• Screaming Children
• Screaming Adults

I’ll be upfront in saying that I’m extremely wary of the restaurants that sit nestled upon each other along Miami’s South Beach on Ocean Drive. I see them as tourist traps, thieves, charlatans, crooks, and slackers. And those are just the compliments I have for them. I’ve had numerous poor experiences, to the point where I’ll avoid eating along the famed street of rented Aston Martins (they really do rent Aston Martins to park in front of their restaurant and draw in onlookers) and convertible Seabrings (the tourist/businessman who upgraded his Hertz, but didn’t go all out on the uber premium Corvette ZR6).

So on this trip, Jen convinced me that my views of the restaurants on Ocean Drive just needed the right guide.  She happened to be it.  We searched around a bit and settled on the Front Porch Cafe.  We arrived at the empty hostess stand, behind a couple already waiting for table.  Several of the wait staff hovered underneath the giant faded awning, a dull off white plastic that bore the age of numerous days underneath the beating Florida sun.  The bored look on the staff’s faces annoyed me, as they were clearly not in any major effort to do anything beyond taking orders and bringing out the food.  Luckily, a few diners were wrapping up their meals and promptly left, opening up tables both for the couple ahead and us.

Jen and I were seated at a table and given our menus to peruse.

Let me rephrase that.

Jen and I were seated at a table for six, made up of three tables meant to seat two per table.  With the tip included in every bill, what’s the need to put in the extra effort of seating another couple at at the opposite end of the six seater?  Why put in the extra work?

Annoyed with the inefficiency, I was placated by the fact that the Front Porch Cafe serves breakfast and brunch plates well into the afternoon.  Our waiter, likely the brightest and hardest working of the lot, came by quickly and took our orders for tap water, as well as a mojito for Jen.  He quickly returned with our drinks, and we each ordered an omelet,  with me adding the request that I’d like a side of pancakes.

“We don’t do that here,” he said.

“Do what?” I asked.

“We don’t sell sides of pancakes.”

“Oh that’s fine. I wanted the full order of ‘em.”

You’re about to see something REAL special here, I thought to myself.

We enjoyed the view at our table- the cars blasting bass heavy beats driving by; the crest of the dunes of South Beach across the street; and the ever so popular characters that strutted along Ocean Drive.  Ocean Drive is home of some of the weirdest people you’ll ever see.  I even saw a man dressed as a slice of pizza walk by.  True story.

Our food came by quickly, and surprisingly, it looked amazing.

Jen’s Santa Fe Omelet was packed with refried beans, onions, and cheese in a giant fold of eggs, covered with fresh chopped cilantro and line, coupled with a large dish of fresh fruit and toast.

My Chicken Satay Omelet was no slack either.  Stuffed with chopped lettuce, chicken, peanut satay sauce and also served with fruit and toast, I was already unraveling my tight grip of hate hate hate of Ocean Drive’s restaurants.

The real killer here?

Two enormous wholewheat, oatmeal and chocolate chip pancakes, with enough fiber to knit a large winter jacket (I know that’s not what it is, I’m on a roll here, leave me alone) and even more fruit to boot.

Why did I even hold animosity towards these places in the first place?

The omelets were excellent.  Each full of flavor and totally unique.  I really enjoyed my chicken satay omelet, enough to the point where I’ll have to try making it sometime on my own.  Jen also polished off hers, and helped me hack away at the pancakes.  These pancakes are definitely not light fare!  Dense enough to blot out the sun and soak in lots of syrup, these things were delicious.  I’m a little ashamed to say that I couldn’t finish them, even with Jen’s help, but that’s more of an accreditation to the restaurant knowing my voracious appetite.

In retrospect, perhaps it was my lack of understanding of restaurants in South Beach operate that led to such poor experiences. There are a couple of rules you should understand, and hopefully, these will make your dining experience better, should you eat there:

1. Always specify that you want Miami’s finest water on tap when they ask you if you’d like sparkling or flat, so you don’t get an $8 bottle of Evian dropped by your table.
2. Gratuity is always included in the bill.  You should be more surprised if it’s not, and when the tip’s already in the bill, you should expect service that suits that sort of system.
3. Get a table outside.  You’re likely not paying a premium for the food or service, but the fantastic people watching of pedestrians walking by.  You’ll see some of the most amazing things clopping along.  My personal favorite?  A girl in her early 20′s strutting her high heels in tights…painted like denim.  I mean painted on pocket, painted seams, everything.

If you’re looking for a breakfast to take in some food, drinks, and the scenery, this is it.  Our waiter here was pretty attentive, which also made me relent on my negative impression.  Maybe there are spots along Ocean that aren’t so bad, but I’ll take them on a case-by-case basis.

See Front Porch Cafe on a map here.

Recommend For:

• Voyeurs
• Anthropologists
• Vegetarians
• Paleo heads
• Hangovers

Not Recommended For:

• Carb Counters
• Penny Pinchers
• Quick Meals

Jen and I took a trip to Miami over the weekend, and had the great opportunity to sample a number of restaurants of all walks of life.  Miami Beach, for not being a gastrocentric culture, certainly has its fair share of restaurants that proliferate the main thoroughfares of Collins Ave, Washington Ave, and Lincoln Road.  We were in search of Indian food, to which Jen had only had previous dining experiences at a more upscale Indian restaurant that seemed a bit too costly for a casual night out.  A bit of searching and we decided to take a gamble on Guru.

The restaurant falls somewhat off the beaten path, tucked away on one of the side streets of South Beach.  Stepping inside, there were few occupied tables, which put a bit of apprehension into us.  A quartet of friends near the window.  A couple on their first date, with the woman a good deal more imbibed than the man.  And a lot more empty tables in this small establishment.  Nevertheless, we picked our seat and dove right in.

We put in an order of the Spinach Pakora and the Tandoori Broccoli to start.  The former, a set of fried cauliflower and spinach patties served with a corriander based hari chutney.  Deep fried and a bit salty, but also very satisfying with every bite.  I don’t recall if we were served five or six, but I do remember taking the majority of them when Jen was distracted with the Tandoori Broccoli.  The broccoli was pretty much served up as the name described it- about 2 cups of broccoli seasoned and cooked in a tandoori oven, giving the florets a nice soft and baked taste and texture, and served with a sweet chili dipping sauce.  A very good appetizer, although a bit light in portion.  We were also treated to a a complimentary basket of sliced naan, accompanied with a cucumber yogurt dipping sauce, totally comped.  It began to dawn on us that maybe this place was more of a neighborhood establishment than one of the tourist traps of Ocean Drive.

While waiting for our main courses, Jen plowed through her pinot grigio, patiently waiting for the waiter to come by and ask to refill her glass.

That didn’t exactly happen.

So she waited.  And waited. And then….she waited some more.

And finally!

She got up and walked the 10 feet to the bar, where the waiter stood, face illuminated by the pale light of his crackberry, furiously tweeting away.

Waiter: OMG SO BORED. #atwork

Waiter: MY BLONDE HIGHLIGHTS ARE SO HOT RIGHT NOW #southbeachdiva

Waiter: @SpaceResidentDJ Can you like, put me on the guest list tonight?  And comp me some drinks?  LOL!  UR THE BEST!

Well, at least, that’s what I’d imagine was going on over there.  He was at least, apologetic, and quickly refilled oenophilic’s glass.  Comped.

Nice.  At least there’s some sort of consolation for his nonstop tweeting.  Although we didn’t find out we were comped on the wine until the end of dinner, so it was really just an added bonus.  With Jen being as laid back as she is, which is about as laid back as a Olympic luger going backwards down the side of K2, she was perfectly happy with just having another glass of wine.

My girlfriend rules.

Our entrees came quickly thereafter.  For the main event, Jen ordered the Channa Masala-  her default vegetarian dish of choice.  It’s never quite prepared exactly the same way from restaurant to restaurant, so she does get a bit of variety in it, but in the end, the basic premise remains the same.  Chickpeas cooked in a tomato and onion gravy, infused with varying amounts of turmeric, coriander, garlic, chilies, garam masala, and a host of other spices.  Nothing too outstanding about the way Guru prepared this dish, but at the same time, she was satisfied with it all the same.

I ordered the Nilgiri Korma, which really intrigued me from the moment I saw it on the menu.  Beef cooked in an almond, yogurt, and coconut curry sauce.  It sounds odd, which is exactly why I ordered it.  Truth be told, it was actually a good deal better than I had expected.  The creamy curry sauce with a slow simmered beef was exactly what I needed.  I skipped the mountain of rice that came with the dish, but made sure to consume the rest of the sauce with the mini salad at the base of the rice.

I suppose somewhere in there the waiter realized he screwed up, and we were presented with a Gulab Jamun, completely comped.  The best I could describe it (since it doesn’t appear on the menu) is a pair of gelatinous balls of dough, soaked in syrup, and served in an martini glass filled with ice cream and whipped cream.  Jen, the trooper that she is, took down the majority of the dish since I was trying to behave and not stray too far from my diet.

Guru’s a pretty good restaurant amongst the throng of pizza parlors and sushi dens that litter South Beach, and proof you don’t have to pay a king’s ransom to get a good meal.  As it goes with most places near the beach, gratuity is included in the bill, so not only should you not feel inclined to tip more if you don’t feel the service was up to snuff, you should also expect the service to be a bit more lackadaisical than you’re used to.  Having been comped the free basket of naan, a glass of pinot grigio, and a dessert, how could you go wrong?

See Guru Indian Restaurant on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Vegetarians
• Bollywood Buffs
• Sauce lovers
• Paleo heads

Not Recommended For:

• Attention Whores
• Carbophobes
• Bargain Diners
• Dinner before getting that tattoo you’ve always wanted at Miami Ink

Anatolia is a Mediterranean restaurant just off of Restaurant Row in Orlando.  The menu boasts a variety of dishes, with plentiful vegan and vegetarian options, which is a rare treat for non-meat eaters and omnivores alike.  Lunch specials appear on the menu there, but not online-  which is a shame, because these really are a fantastic deal.  You can get a four course meal for under $20, including soup, salad, an entree, and a dessert.  My Dad took up the offer, ordering the Lentil Soup, Shepherd’s Salad, Gyro, and Sutlac (Rice Pudding).  I went with Dana Sote (Beef Saute), which was a perfect Paleo pick without an ounce of bulgur wheat, couscous, or bread.

Every seated guest also is treated to a complimentary dishes of kalamata olives soaked in olive oil and herbs, and a sour cabbage that I can only describe as ‘yuck’.

The Lentil Soup and Shepherd’s Salad came out next, with my Dad taking the former and giving me the latter.  The Lentils were actually blended rather kept in their bean form, which gave it a very exotic and rich consistency.  However, it still fell a bit short of expectations, so this is another dish where I’d suggest giving it a miss.

The Shepherd’s pie doesn’t come with any surprises, just a really good salad.  Tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, and onions in a lemon and olive oil vinaigrette.  This dish is full of great tasting fresh vegetables, and seemed perfectly proportioned throughout.

The Gyro (at least I remember it as being a gyro, so if it’s not, boo on you) that my Dad ordered seemed a little…flat.  And non-substantial.  After a closer inspection of the contents, it appeared that the majority of the contents were potato wedges rather than meat, which was really disappointing.  All filler and no substance, and I give this one a big thumbs down.  My Dad liked it well enough, but he agreed that it was definitely more potato and bread than meat.

My Keyser Sote dish looked pretty enough, and definitely tasted great.  Lots of spices in the sauce, and well decorated with paprika garnished around the plate  as well as fresh cilantro on top.  But again, where’s the actual meat of this dish?  For the price, the substance is really lacking.

Then onto dessert.  The Sutlac is unquestionably just rice pudding, despite the fancy description provided by the restaurant.  They give you a good size of it here, though, what would amount to probably a pint of what’d you’d pick up at the store.  I remember the days when I used to pick up pints of Kozyshack Rice Pudding and Tapioca Pudding and absolutely decimate it in a single sitting.  It’s prepared with lots of sugar here, and definitely a dessert that that’s easily shared between two people.

Overall, Anatolia is a great place to eat…if you’re a vegetarian or vegan.  From either of those two perspectives, this place is a nice find, tucked away in Orlando, with a large variety of dishes to choose from.  However, the meat dishes do not come close to satisfying or making you feel as if you’ve really gotten a good meal at a good value.  The tend to be very light on what you’re actually ordering.  The presentation remains excellent on everything served here, but just not what I was hoping to get out eating here.

Recommended for:

• Vegan
• Vegetarians
• Mediterranean Aficionados
• Zone Zealots
• Paleoheads

Not Recommended for:

• Raptors
• Carbophobes
• Carnivores

See Anatolia Mediterranean Cuisine on a map here.