Friday, August 28, 2015

Travel Capture: Up Close and Personal with GIZA, EGYPT

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, The Great Pyramids and Sphinx at Giza! Cue applause.

Let's take it back to Cairo, Egypt, my port of entry to a heat-waved desert in the middle of June. Shuttling a short ways to Giza, ever the tourist trap, I remember getting off of the bus and being immediately accosted by locals trying to sell me this and that, aggressively hustling to make a buck, and not taking my firm "no" for an answer. As I pushed through the swarm (quite literally and forcefully), three tiny triangular forms presented themselves to me against the bluest of cloudless skies. Is that it? Am I really looking at The Great Pyramids, one of the ancient wonders of the world?

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Travel Capture: HONFLEUR, FRANCE

Galerie Sainte-Catherine
Honfleur, France
July 2012
Galerie Elysees
New York, NY
July 2015

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Monday, February 10, 2014

Back on the Road of Eats: PITTSBURGH


Finally, my long-overdue first post since my 6-month stint in Miami last year with the musical "In The Heights" at Actors' Playhouse on Miracle Mile. I took a brief hiatus from work as I resettled back home in NYC (for another 6 months) before heading back on the road (Rebe's Road!).

In case you are not up to speed, I joined the 1st National Tour cast of the Broadway musical "Wicked" about a month ago, starting off 2014 with a fierce punch! So now that I am back to my gypsy inclinations of travel and exploration, I have much food-finding to attend to. As I navigate the US on my second national tour, I am once again performer by night, eater by day. My duty to excavate and devour the interesting (and not so) things happening in gastronomy commences city by city. Follow me on this journey.

FIRST STOP: Pittsburgh, PA

As my last day in this below-zero-temperature city begins, I write to reflect on the past 4 weeks here. In addition to a solid 6-floor Andy Warhol Museum, a nifty but shifty installation gallery called the Mattress Factory, and an art-house single-screen cinema which screened 2 quality films ("The Armstrong Lie," and "The Great Beauty"), Pitts surprised my tastebuds with some stellar culinary offerings. Though my exploration/free time was overtaken extensively by rehearsals for my new job (which I am thrilled to have), and limited to the downtown area (no car!), I was able to squeeze in some  sensible dining. The notables are as follows:

With a Williamsburg industrial-rustic aesthetic, and a mixologist's wet dream of a cocktail list, this restaurant delivered delicious nouveau American comfort fare. Mussels are a specialty of which they have many variations, so of course, I had to order them. My Thai curry-coconut broth was perfectly piquant and silky smooth, all the better to stew the mussels in, my dear. No doubt I dabbled in the bites of my fellow diners, which included a ridiculously generous (but much-appreciated) portion of gelatinous bone marrow, crispy fried Brussels sprouts (a-must for me), and a well-balanced pot roast that appropriately fell to shreds with every fork prod.

Forever a skeptic of "Latin fusion" cuisine (a bias caused by my Cuban genetics), I was fearful this place would fall into the trap of not only trying to blend Hispanic flavors with other cuisines, but also allowing the menu to be a Latin American free-for-all: a sad hodge-podge of carelessly selected foods from different countries. Empanadas with quesadillas with ceviches with salchipapas with mofongo, etc. (This, I have experienced and it's not pretty). But here, Asian and Latin do fuse, with a little farm-to-table folded in as well. Save for the unnotable "Cuban Sushi Roll" - which didn't have any Cuban cuisine ingredients and didn't have the taste of sushi either - everything else was satisfying. The mix and match Ceviche spoon samplers, wherein you choose your seafood and the type of preparation, were light and fresh - the most innovative winner was the octopus in a puttanesca sauce, applying an Italian flavor profile to a Peruvian dish. Bravo. 

My Scottish Salmon was seared to my ideal rare center, and was rounded out with the melting bite of warm orzo and tangy guava glaze. What most impresses me is when something so simple can taste so damn good, and that was the Ensalada de la Casa (house salad) - which customarily takes home the prize for most boring, lackluster excuse for a menu item. But this layered bed of deep green leaves coddled a medley of julienned calabaza (really, butternut squash but shhh), sweet corn kernels, pickled ginger (oh yes!), and tomatoes, all diced and gorgeously swirled with smokey-sweet chipotle lime vinaigrette. Can I get an Amen.

This little place expertly melds Asian sensibility with rustic American farm-to-table flare. In addition to delicious dim sum-style variations on staples like beef carpaccio, celery root salad, and Brussels sprouts (the best of the three!), bold grit does grace the menu with innovative and reconstructed dishes.

Take the hearty but light faro grain salad, served cold and soaked in an all-too pleasing goat's milk yogurt sauce with the perfect innuendo of green curry. Buttoned with sweet butternut squash, fresh frisee and tissue paper-thin rolls of apple, a satisfying bite this does make. 

Equally excellent were the three day boat scallops, plump and seared, resting on pillowy lobster dumplings, wedges of parsnip charred to a tender touch, and wilted greens, all swimming in a well-balanced, deeply flavorful lobster hoisin broth I would most gladly keep in a flask, to swing at my heart's desire. Also brothy and bold were the al-dente rye noodles swirling amidst melt-in-your-mouth shreds of confit duck leg, a gloriously runny egg, and pickled mustard seeds. Another balancing act that scored a 10 on the tongue.

Though, the most daring and taste-provoking goes to the chef's brilliant deconstruction of a hot and sour soup, manifested as a gorgeous graveyard of all of the ingredients, sans the broth (in liquid form)! Rather, it makes its appearance as a snowy foam dotting carefully arranged braised daikon, crispy tofu, baby bok choy, earthy mushrooms, green onion slivers, and roasted carrots. The depth of flavor is surprising and all of the elements simultaneously stand strongly on their own, as well as elevate each other when gulped in the same heavenly bite. Hats off (bras and panties, too) to the chef for putting my tongue in a tizzy and expanding my food-loving heart.

Pittsburgh, you kind of rocked my culinary socks. And while you were close to being that one night stand one would like to quickly forget, I will instead remember you fondly for the fine food that you fed.


NEXT STOP: Appleton, WI...

Monday, May 20, 2013

MiamiEats: Follow THE FEDERAL

Lamb Burger & Duck Egg
Well slap me silly and call me Susan. Something tells me we're not in Brooklyn anymore. But The Federal Food Drink & Provisions in Miami convinces me otherwise. It is plucked straight out of the farm-to-table, rustic-chic, upscale casual, blue-jean clad-server, sharing style small plates served as they're ready in no particular order woodwork of bourgeois-bohemian dining halls of today. My perhaps beleaguered tone shan't detract from my utter enjoyment of such establishments - when they're done correctly, as this one is.

Courtesy of The Federal
There's no denying, the place's got charm, with saloon barn wood, vintage-y country wallpaper, and brown paper table runners - even a spacious front patio with the requisite picnic table for communal dining. But more importantly, the food is spectacularly innovative yet familiar, created by skilled chef Cesar Zapata. And just when you think this Southern-slanted menu is getting all sophisticated on you with crab home fries and crispy pork belly, they throw in a cup of creamy grits or a buttery gran'ma biscuit. Just another trick of the trade to keep it "down home" and upscale. But I don't hate it, as long as my stomach is satisfied. And boy, was it.

On this particular Sunday brunch (which offers $16 bottomless mimosas) two flaky fluffy buttery biscuits segued to a Jar-O-Duck, a most delightful shredded pate, which quacked harmoniously with charred marshmallow fluff and candied sweet potato slices on crunchy chunks of bread. The best of the spread, hands down.

The Charred Octopus was cooked well but its modest slivers were easily drowned in the red salsa it swam in, though the fried dough triangle "tortilla" chips (more like crispy wontons) were ultimately satisfying with every crispy, airy crunch.
Charred Octopus & Chips

The Local Artisan Ricotta was artfully whipped  and textured in an adorable mason jar, its mellow creaminess complemented gorgeously by the citrusy zing of candied kumquats. More rustic tears of bread were in tow, of course.
Ricotta & Kumquats

And you can't feel like brunch royalty without a runny fried egg. And here, at its best in duck egg form, it caped a glorious lamb burger patty smathered with pungent goat cheese and slippery, sweet grilled onions. The lamb: a perfectly succulent medium-rare, the yolk: a yellow silk weaving together every morsel. With this I can die happy.

The jarred S'more dessert needs a ratio tweak, being too heavy on the chocoalte pudding and too light on the graham cracker crumbles and marshmallow to balance its richness. But you can certainly count on a double espresso to perk you up with a powerful, deft swig. (God, I'm a sucker for good coffee.)

How The Federal supper fares, I have yet to uncover. But if it's under Zapata's governance, I am a willing follower. (Plus, Crawdaddy Tuesdays are kind of calling my name.)

The Federal
5132 Biscayne Blvd
Miami, FL 33137

*All photos by Rebecca Kritzer unless otherwise noted

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

My Sunday Spiritual at SWINE Miami

Though I can't take credit for this tongue-and-cheek threat (Run Pig Run) that illuminates the interior of new Swine Southern Table & Bar in Coral Gables, I can be grateful that the this little piggy didn't make it very far. Every pork-driven creation set before me on this holy day of St. Patrick exorcised a euphoric religious experience; a worthy conversion for any kosher-keeper.
In an unassumingly bi-level lofty space just off Miami's Miracle Mile, I welcomed the familiar, trending aesthetic of rustic country chic - barn-meets-boutique Brooklyn. Not something you'd pin on the older-world affluence of the neighborhood, thus all the more reason I was tickled by its porky presence. Conceived by the same 50 Eggs team behind South Beach's successful Yardbird and new addition, Khong River House, their concept and locale I can only assume is strategic anomaly.

Courtesy of Cortney Cates via Eater
That strategy bleeds directly to the dishes as well, cutting straight to the heart of flavor and clogging every artery on the way. With pork thoughtfully integrated into almost every nouveau Southern-style dish, it's no wonder. Though beware, it may be the prices that send you into cardiac arrest.
For example, the seared Diver Scallops "small plate" boasted two rotund discs atop glorious smoked pork shoulder shreds bathing in a complementary smokey orange piquillo pepper sauce. Don't knock surf-and-turf until you try this bad boy. But to share with a group of three or four, a double order is necessary and at $17 a pop, you had better savor the flavor of every glistening bite.
Mac & Cheese
The Mac & Cheese with pigtail-shaped pasta was cute but lackluster at $10, a foible that luckily did not permeate the entire menu. The green mountain of a Kale Salad ($13) was expectedly rough and robust, cut eloquently with cider vinegar, sharp cheddar, and sweet cornbread croutons.
Kale Salad

Heritage Pork & Beans
The "big plates" were spectacular, but big they were not. The Heritage Pork & Beans ($29) was winning with the optimal balance of sweet glaze and savory bite. Once our forks (all too easily) ripped the pork shoulder mass to shreds, it mercilessly drowned in a rich sea of stewed beans and a fresh sticky dollop of tomato-peanut relish - an amalgamation of a heavenly plate-licking status. And I caution with no hyperbole, that the Memphis-Style Spare Ribs will be your delicious downfall. If you order nothing else, order these - some of the best I've ever had. (Again, no hyperbole.) I will let you decide if the $32 is apt for the stack of 8 lean yet perfect ribs. I would say, for the price, they could spare a few more spares. Especially because the tangy, reigning dry rub begets the pinnacle of salivation (salvation, too) and finger-licking of the most indulgent variety.

Creative cocktails abound for a melodic mouthwash. My pick, of course, combining whiskey and pork in the best way possible: the Swine Old Fashioned ($15). Bacon-washed Overholt Rye with "swine" bitters and a dash of maple syrup...there are no words, only sips.
Molten Chocolate-Peanut Butter Cake
Another of my favorite combinations, chocolate and peanut butter, made dessert a no-brainer: a most decadent Molten Chocolate Cake ($10) with a nutty innuendo was peanut butter-punched with rich Chunky Monkey ice cream and the failsafe accompaniment of torched bananas. And get a load of the endlessly layered Red Velvet Cake ($10) with the requisite cream cheese frosting, sharply sliced with acidic lemon curd and cleverly rounded by strawberry-thyme jam.
Red Velvet Cake
If anything can persuade you to overlook dollar signs, it is the congenial waitstaff and supreme service, notoriously absent in Miami, but nonetheless exceeding even New York standards. And for that alone, I would scurry back to Swine.

Only a week old upon my visit, and this piglet is already wise beyond its years. An asset that will hopefully allow it to escape the ill-fated chase of its current slogan. I propose an addendum: Stay Pig Stay.

2415 Ponce de Leon Blvd
Coral Gables, FL

All photos by Rebecca Kritzer unless otherwise noted.

Sunday, February 3, 2013


Bloom Wynwood has sprouted in the flourishing Midtown Miami district, flavoring the area with thoughtful Latin-Asian fusion cuisine and clever cocktails with a fresh focus. Inside, a white wash of tables and chairs is punctuated with a vibrant palate of accent pillows and splotched cavases. The breezy outdoor patio with its own bar is the best way to enjoy a colorful happy hour. 

Tequila Beets

My bright purple Tequila Beets cocktail was the best sip I've had for some time now. A sweet nose and a mellow finish was the result of a masterful mix of smooth tequila, roasted beet juice, whiskey-barrel bitters, and light lace of chamomile syrup. A worthy bargain at $11 to boot. I wish my conviction could flow to the food, but not wholly so. The tally was split, hit or miss. If it was a hit, it was a grand slam. If a miss, the loss was a strong sucker punch to the gut.

We ordered the two "tamales" offered, neither of which was actually a tamal - a Latin staple marked by a plush but firm cornmeal-encased filling, wrapped and steamed. For the Braised Oxtail, the white cornmeal smushed with "thai coconut" rice was a flavorless formless bed of mush for well-cooked but not stupendous shreds of oxtail, strewn oddly on top, instead of within. The Shitake Enchilada variety was even more perplexing with a fake flavor profile my guest likened to an old, hard candy bar. The nut and nato "cheese" sauce added a weird overly saccharine caramel burnt undertone to the vegan pumpkin "tamal" block, which again, was topped (not filled) with wide mushroom caps. A stomach ache waiting to happen.
Shitake Enchilada Tamal

Braised Oxtail Tamal

Crab Huancaina Arepa
Also the Crab Huancaina "arepa" was noone's arepa - not Columbian, not Venezuelan, not good. The corn arepa patties were dry, mealy and bland. The crab meat salad was over-mayonaissed and the eel sauce, which would have a been an appreciated bbq-esque balance, was but a stain of undetectable dressing.
Salmon Tiradito
The Salmon Tiradito was probably the only middle ground: fresh and simple topped with tomatillo salsa and crunchy Peruvian-style choclo corn. Non-descript, not offensive. Not a deal-maker, nor a deal-breaker.
Shaken Octopus
Conceptually, the Shaken Octopus wins the presentation prize as a mason jar of firmly cooked pieces in a vinegary pool of yuzu sake, floating juicy, sweet orange wedges and seaweed. Packed with ice and literally shaken table-side for a chill before served, it was a memorable medley on the rocks, indeed.

The one item to which I give whole-hearted praise was the Tuna Yuke Seaweed 'Tacos' dish. Ironically, the seaweed pieces serving as the build-your-own-taco wrapping were superfluously unnecessary. The tuna tartar cubes were bathed in a soy-like saucy crescendo simultaneously smoky, salty, molasses-y and bright. The depth of flavor proudly pleaded insanity, even without the seaweed schtick. I'd happily go crazy for it again and again.
Tuna Yuke Seaweed Tacos
But is that, and the conceptual prowess, enough to pitch me back to Bloom? That's ball I'd toss up, take a swing, and hit - or miss.

Bloom Wynwood
2751 N Miami Ave
Miami, FL 33127

All photos by Rebecca Kritzer

Monday, January 21, 2013

EL CARAJO: The big stink about this hidden Miami restaurant

Bacalao-stuffed Piquillo Peppers
Dirty words can be good sometimes. That is, when they have another meaning. Though to most who speak Spanish (myself included), you grew up hearing carajo (meaning crap or hell) as a cursing exclamation: Vete para carajo! So it's a risk when a business, moreover, a restaurant where the last thing you want to taste is shit, appropriates the name as its own. But in this instance, El Carajo, a Miami Spanish tapas and wine spot, grabs our off-put attention and then wafts it under our noses so we can smell those roses. Namely, waking us up with the scent of dual meaning: their carajo refers to the lookout basket at the top of a Spanish ship's mast

If that does not pique your interest, then they've got back-up: a disguise. This full-service restaurant with wooden tables, a delectable bakery, an impressive meat and cheese case, and a glass-paned wine cellar, operates inconspicuously behind the literal facade of a BP gas station market. You won't know it's there unless you know it's there. Thus, the speakeasy allure is enough to draw the loyals and rookies alike.

But I'm not quite sure this schtick was enough to keep me roped to this ship. While the service excellent  and the air graciously absent of stuffiness, only a few dishes excelled and all were overpriced for their sizes. Any bottle of wine lining the walls is yours to gargle with your meal, but at a price: $10 corkage in addition to the sticker value. A tickling bargain no longer.

Pulpo al la Gallega (Octopus)
The bacalao-stuffed piquillo peppers ($10.50) satisfied with their salty bite rounded by the orange cascades of smokey pimenton sauce. Also parading paprika but not as successfully were the disappointing slivers of octopus ($14.50) which failed to identify themselves as such, but rather tastelessly surrendered to the bright red dust. 
Fufu de Cangrejo

Sabor was also absent in the fufu de cangrejo ($10), a dish that held such promise in my mind, but fell flat on my tongue. Plantains and crab, oft a match made in heaven and two of my favorite things, quizzically did not harmonize, but instead canceled eachother out to a flavorless void.

Camarones al Albarino
On the upturn, truly sensational were the camarones al albarino ($15). A full bed of fluffy greens cradled supple shrimp drenched not overzealously in a complexly rich tomato sauce with melted shreds of delicate white queso. If you dunked your finger in it that glorious sauce, I would eat it.  Without question.

Well cooked was the grilled filet of corvina, but so small it was, the two shrimp served alongside almost   dwarfed it. Plated with a few rustic vegetables at $16, it was a tough pill, er fish, to swallow. The same story can be told for the duck breast special, a mere fist size with a few well-crisped yucca fries. The taste was on point, but hardly left a dent in the stomach.

Torta Santiago
I will insist on ordering the guava cheesecake ($6) if nothing else. The creamy layers of rich and fruity and sweet and savory and crumbly belt for your favor. The Santiago crumb cake ($7) was also satisfying with the nutty crunch of an almond crust and a powdered sugar coating. And so quickly does the crunch slacken when the viscous sherry it is served with is waterfalled into a porous bed of soaked cake.
Guava Cheesecake

Though El Carajo can't be taken at face value (a gas station food mart it is not), it should be taken with a grain of salt. Expect not a restaurant with fully expressed dishes. Rather, if you keep your visit quaint with robust wine, savory cheese, and saccharine postres, all the rest of the carajo won't count.

El Carajo
2465 SW 17th Ave, 33145

All photos by Rebecca Kritzer

Tuesday, January 8, 2013


As luck would have it, my lunch at SEASONS 52 on Miracle Mile coincided with their launch of a revamped menu. For the "seasoned" veterans, you will be happy that their signature flatbreads and staple sandwiches, salads and burgers have remained (with some new additions), but more interestingly an enticing Soft Taco section has been added, as well as a separate section for sides like Tamale Tots (yum).

Maintaining their seasonal and healthy edge (nothing is fried and all dishes are under 475 calories), the flavor abounds as much as my first visit to this chain's location almost exactly (coincidentally) a year ago (Reviewed Here). Exciting to my tongue was the special Mahi Mahi (pictured) with a charred crisp that melted into tender but fleshy morsels. Devoid of any fishy bite, the mellow meat was amplified by a festive corn and bean salad, punctuated with juicy grape tomatoes and wilted greens. A thoughtful dollop of fresh guacamole studded with crunchy root vegetable straws decadently crowned the Mahi monument. My side order (also a daily special and pictured) of sweet and sturdy roasted yellow beets could not have been more compatible if they had been integrated to my main dish.

I don't know - nor do I need to know - how Seasons 52 upholds such quality control of food and service (also impecable) not only as a national chain, but consistently in the same location. "Third time's a charm" need not apply, as I have already been twice enchanted by the fine fare at this truly seasonal spot.

Seasons 52
321 Miracle Mile
Coral Gables, FL

Photo by Rebecca Kritzer

Thursday, December 20, 2012

MIAMI EATS: The good, the bad, and the yummy

Everytime I return to my Miami hometown, the scene to survey is not that of nightlife, dance clubs or fashion, but my dear dining. While I visit frequently, it never fails that some new restaurant has popped up on Lincoln Road or a tried and true favorite has been revamped, remodeled and renamed. In the same breath, it is refreshing to see those holes in the walls that have stood their ground and resisted the push of changing winds. My resulting experience at three restaurants spanning the aforementioned spectrum yielded "the good, the bad, and the yummy."
Happy Hour: Stella & Marcona Almonds
Spoiler alert: I start with the "good" that is the new Oak Tavern in Miami's flourishing Design District. Home to a manifold of storefronts parading nouveau couches and sleek kitchen facades, this neighborhood nook also makes room for a gem of a restaurant. Owned by David Bracha of River Seafood & Oyster Bar in downtown, the indoor-outdoor flow of former dance club, The District (where I spent many a youthful night bopping away), lends itself perfectly to this rustic dining experience. I found myself there for happy hour, sipping on an ice-cold Stella under the gorgeously lit thick oak tree (hence the name) stretching its branches in the spacious front patio. Not only was the breezy ambiance spectacular, the noshes put me in my happy place as well. Despite being freshly open for a mere week, my Bone Marrow with succulently sweet oxtail marmalade was impecable, as were the Lamb Ribs on the bone served over a luscious layering of mint pesto and thick lemony yogurt. While the House-cured Maple Bacon bites were oddly naked and dwarfed on a supremely large serving board, salty and sweet is always a home run. The Roasted Beets were simply satisfying with creamy goat cheese and a detectable hint of nutty pistacchio vinaigrette. To boot, the service was attentive and amicable, giving you all the more reason to extend that happy hour past curfew.
Maple Bacon
Lamb Ribs

The "bad" begins and definitevely ends with Jaguar restaurant in Coconut Grove. With an enticing menu and a longstanding respectable reputation, I took my stab at this upscale Latin "ceviche spoon" spot - and vow never to return. As a place advertising its expertise in the Peruvian marinated fish classic, they certainly need to take a few more lessons in its execution. Out of the three ceviches ordered, only one was a passable plate: Ceviche Oriental. With wisps of ginger, spicy jalapeno, and seasame seeds, the Asian flavor palate enhanced the cubed tuna well. The same could not be said for the awful Ceviche Vuelva a la Vida, which practically did the opposite in killing any semblance of a ceviche by drowning the swordfish, shrimp and calamari in a sea of saccharine ketchup (no exaggeration), making any other flavor undetectable. This one could not be finished. The Ceviche Peruano, intended to be the most traditional, was bland as bland can be, with white fish barely being aided by corn and red onion. Stepping outside of ceviche, the fried Potato Cake special mounted with uber-mayonnaisey crab salad was so assaultingly salty (pun intended), more than the initial bite would have been torture. This too was left untouched. To rub salt in the wound (yes, another pun), what was expected to be a comprehensive entree (Moqueca de Camarao) of shrimp embued in coconut milk tinged with tomatoes and garlic, was instead separately grilled shrimp placed carelessly and flavorlessly on top of the sauce, with a mound of bare white rice as plate-filler. I left hungry and disappointed and our server - who we barely saw - had a negative-Nancy attitude of his own. Not worth it. Never again.
Moqueca de Camaron

But thankfully, there is always the "yummy" to fall back on. For me (and everyone else who knows the hour-plus wait is worth it) is Hy Vong, a cozy (read, tiny) nondescript Vietnamese restaurant tucked on Calle Ocho: an anomaly on a street characterized by more Hispanic "old Miami" mom-and-pop businesses. Mom and pop this is, with no hostess but the proprietor simultaneously checking the scratch-paper waitlist and taking orders. Not a thing that touched our tongues was not complex in flavor and ultimately satisfying as it went down. For anyone that thinks they do not like Vietnamese cuisine, these dishes will convert you. The tender tongue was licked with soft notes of ginger and the sauteed calamari salad was coddled by the most impressive soy-lime dressing I've ever tasted. Going with superlatives, I had the best roast duck of my life here (this is not hyperbole). An impressive half bird is marinated and cooked in the perfectly sour-sweet sticky black currant glaze, deep but bright. The skin is blackened to a light crisp and the meat more supple than I could ever imagine duck to be. Also noteworthy were the brothy pumpkin soup spiked with fried shallots and the incredibly doughy Bahn Cuon rolls stuffed with pork and mushrooms. Dessert delivers with a thick pie-slice of firm but airy bread pudding, and well as the decadent chocolate brownie cake coated with gloriously rich fudge. So exceptional is this place, it can afford to be closed three days out of the week! Like its name means, Hy Vong is everything one could "hope" for, though ironically, little hope is needed for a fantastic meal.

Roast Duck


Oak Tavern, 35 NE 40 St, 786.391.1818

Jaguar, 3067 Grand Ave, 305.444.0216

Hy Vong, 3458 SW 8th St, 305.446.3674

All photos by Rebecca Kritzer