Kaya

Kaya (https://www.kayaorlando.com/) is an upscale Filipino restaurant in Mills 50, Orlando’s best foodie neighborhood.  It is owned and operated by Chef Lordfer Lalicon and General Manager Jamilyn Salonga Bailey, who first made names for themselves with Kappo in Orlando’s East End Market food hall, then launched their award-winning omakase sushi restaurant Kadence.  I have not been lucky enough to go to either yet, but I’ve been aware of them for the longest time, and they seem like incredibly nice, hard-working, talented people who deserve all their accolades and local love.  Kaya first opened in 2022, and while I’ve been wanting to try it ever since, I finally made it there for the first time a few weeks ago.  Better late than never, because I had an unforgettable experience that I’ve been replaying in my head ever since.

I was actually meeting a friend for dinner on a rare weeknight I was off work: someone I also consider a mentor and a role model, Amy Drew Thompson, the food writer for the Orlando Sentinel.  This was my second time meeting Amy Drew in real life, and she is a delightful person who is so nice, so knowledgeable, and an amazing writer.  Kaya is one of her favorite local restaurants, and I was thrilled she was willing and able to meet me there.  Of course everyone at Kaya knew her, because she does so much for Orlando’s local food scene.  Jami came by to check on us a few times, and even Chef Lalicon (who everyone calls “Chef Lo”) popped out of the kitchen.  We sat at the bar, and the two bartenders, Daniel and a nice lady whose name I’m blanking on, took wonderful care of us.

They started us out with a mocktail called Hiraya, with white peony and marigold tea, pineapple juice, and lime juice, sprinkled with Sichuan peppercorns.  It was so refreshing!  It started with the unmistakable sweet taste of pineapple, but that quickly faded to something more botanical.  I’ve never tasted anything like those tea flavors, but it tasted like my wife’s shampoo smells (in a good way). 

Kinilaw is a raw fish-based dish somewhat reminiscent of ceviche in Latin American countries, except where ceviche uses citrus juices to “cook” the fish, kinilaw utilizes vinegar for a similar purpose.  This gorgeous kinilaw incorporated madai, the Japanese word for red sea bream, a whole new fish I had never tasted before (although some of my research tells me the term is used interchangeably with red snapper, usually when it’s served as sushi).  Delicate raw slices of the madai were served with peaches, paper-thin slices of crunchy radish, coconut, and chili flakes, all arranged artfully on separate little crispy islands of puffed rice.  You can see five little radish slices, each one topping a piece of the madai, and there’s puffed rice under each one.  You would scoop up the whole little stack, and it is a perfect bite of food with so many textures and flavors.  Chef Lo used pinakurat, which is a spiced coconut vinegar (made from coconut sap).  I’ve bought the Suka Pinakurat brand before, at Orlando’s many Asian markets, since I love experimenting with different vinegars almost as much as I love mustards, but I never dreamed anyone could use it to create a dish on this level of complexity and beauty. 

This beautiful dish was Bicol Express mussels, served in a broth of coconut cream, Thai chilis, shallot, garlic, and bagoong, served with thick slices of pandesal toast for dipping in the rich broth.  I love mussels in any form, and this dish was the most unique way I’ve ever eaten them.  Bicol Express is a Filipino dish traditionally made with cubes of pork, rather than one of the best bivalves.

Bagoong, by the way, is a Filipino condiment made of fermented shrimp or krill cured in salt, which makes a  salty, savory, umami flavor.  It sounds intense and funky, but I didn’t notice anything intense or funky standing out to distract from the mussels or their creamy, spicy, coconutty broth.  But I like intense and funky!  (I’ve been told that I AM intense and funky!)

I wrote about pandesal, literally “bread of salt,” when I reviewed the Filipino-American fusion bakery-cafe The Baker’s Son in Kissimmee, this past December.  It is some of the most delicious bread I’ve ever tasted, similar to buttery brioche, Japanese milk bread, and French pain de mie, sharing their subtle sweetness.   As I’ve gotten older, and especially as I’ve cut way back on carbs, sometimes I just really appreciate good toast, and this pandesal toast was no joke, especially when used to sop up the broth and flex a couple of mussels.   

This was Ningang’s rigatoni, a take on the Filipino style of spaghetti, which is traditionally served with cut-up hot dogs and Spam in a sweet tomato sauce.  On my one trip to the Filipino fried chicken chain Jollibee, I was most excited to try a side order of that spaghetti, but I didn’t think it was anything special.  Kaya’s menu describes their version of the dish as “Filipino beef Bolognese, Spam, aged gouda, a touch of sweetness, a lot of love.”  You can taste the love in it, along with in everything else Chef Lo makes.  I love a good pasta dish, especially a meat sauce, and I really loved this rigatoni.  I would have a hard time returning to Kaya and not ordering this every time (among other things, natch).

I’ve written often about how one of my favorite meats is oxtail, whether it’s in Jamaican or Trinidadian cuisine, American soul food, or even in a steaming bowl of Vietnamese pho.  I was curious about trying Kaya’s oxtail kare kare, served in a rich peanut sauce with eggplant, bok choy, and a little dipping bowl of bagoong (in the top right, so you can see it by itself), but I’ve never tried or even seen oxtail like this.  Usually eating it is a messy affair, as you’re holding the irregularly shaped bone segments and chewing the tender meat and unctuous fat off them, and the bones are slippery enough that they can slip right out of your hands and go flying.  If my dad ever dared to eat oxtail, he would probably add it to his list of foods to not eat on a date, including most other hand-held meat with bones, and anything you have to “fight with” too much — crab legs that need to be cracked, shrimp that need to be shelled, and so forth.  But Chef Lo deboned all that rich meat and pressed it into a brick, then seared the outside to crispy perfection.  It was not only delicious and not only gorgeous, like everything else we were experiencing at Kaya, but he made it EASY.The oxtail kare kare was served with a side of buttery garlic rice called sinangag, which you must order separately (for $5) if your entree doesn’t come with it.

Because I was dining with a culinary luminary, Jami and Chef Lo sent us out these gambas: huge Cape Canaveral white shrimp, served with the heads on as well as the tails, in rich garlic butter, kalamansi verde, and preserved lemon.  Now these were messy, but what a festival of flavors and textures and colors! 
Kalamansi (sometimes called calamansi or calamondin) is a small, round citrus fruit, a hybrid of a kumquat and a Mandarin orange, and their juice is used in a lot of Filipino recipes.  Ripe ones are orange, but because the ones used in this recipe were kalamansi verde (green), they added sour notes because they weren’t ripe yet, perfectly balancing the richness of the garlic butter.  My wife says I love sour and tangy flavors more than anyone she’s ever met, which is one big reason I’m so crazy about Filipino cuisine.  (I also jokingly call myself the “acidic Jew” because of this.)  I have enjoyed kalamansi juice in cool, refreshing beverages before, including from the aforementioned The Baker’s Son (not that different from lemonade or limeade), and after a dear friend with a green thumb hooked me up with kalamansi from her own garden, I squeezed enough juice out of them to make my favorite dessert ever, a variation of Atlantic Beach pie.  (If you’re curious, drop me a line, sweet-toothed Saboscrivnerinos!)

Speaking of dessert, we were about to be blown away by the creativity of Kaya’s talented pastry chef, Chef Clarice Lam.  This was her Silvana Alaska, based on beloved Filipino cookies called Silvanas: two cashew-meringue wafers with a layer of buttercream between them, coated with cookie crumbs.  Chef Lam’s show-stopper was a gluten-free dessert with cashew meringue, ube French buttercream, blueberry compote, a dome-like layer of toasted Swiss meringue (hence the “Alaska” part, like the classic old-timey dessert baked Alaska), tiny cubes of blueberry jellies, and surrounded by a sweet, creamy moat of ube crème anglaise.By the way, ube is a purple yam that is definitely having a moment, being used in all kinds of desserts.  My wife loves the ube soft serve ice cream at Sampaguita Filipino Ice Cream, mere moments away from Kaya, but I’ve never had a dessert of this level of complexity, with or without ube.

Once we split into the meringue dome, this is what the Silvana Alaska looked like inside.  (I think my photo looks like a big fish opening its mouth, with the blueberry jelly cube as its eye, but that was not my intention.)

I am so proud of my wife, who has been trying all kinds of new foods lately.  Even though she wasn’t with us at this dinner (arguably having even more fun than we were, seeing her beloved Tori Amos in concert), I selected another tempting dish to bring home for her to enjoy later.  We both love squid ink pasta (I call it “Goth pasta”), and this was Kaya’s squid ink pancit: house-made spaghetti noodles topped with calamari rings, adobo sauce, black garlic aioli, and pandesal bread crumble.  It was magnificent.  We both sampled it later that night, after I picked her up from the concert, and she got two more whole portions out of it the next day.

Folks, I cannot stress how awe-inspiring this meal was.  I rarely go out to dinner because of my odd work schedule, but if Kaya was open for lunch (it isn’t), I’m sure I would have tried it years ago.  Instead, I’m late to the party, but this was, without a doubt, the absolute #1 best meal I’ve ever eaten in my 22 years in Orlando, and in the Top Five meals of my entire life.

I can tell you three of the others right now:

    • Babbo in NYC for our honeymoon in 2009, before we knew what a shit Mario Batali was,
    • Chef Michael Solomonov’s elevated Ashkenazi Jewish restaurant Abe Fisher in Philadelphia in 2023, which closed not long after our visit up there to see Le Tigre, so I never got around to writing about it, and
    • Chef Marcus Samuelsson’s Red Rooster Overtown in Miami, before seeing De La Soul in 2025.

But I was wowed by every part of the Kaya experience: not just the once-in-a-lifetime dishes my friend/mentor and I shared, but the professionalism of our bartender-servers, Jami’s warmth and kindness, the decor, the unbridled creativity of Chef Lo and Chef Lam, and the way the whole place — the whole experience — feels like a labor of love and a way of sharing a cuisine and a culture that too many Americans have yet to experience.  The website lists Kaya’s values with their names in Tagalog, and I really needed to share these, because you don’t see restaurants with a mission statement all that often, and they really exemplify all these beautiful, noble, lofty ideals:

    • Pamilya: We treat our team and guests like family. We practice radical hospitality so that our guests feel a sense of belonging and ease. We create space to be present for our families.
    • Kapwa + Bayanihan: We care deeply about community. We treat one another with love, look out for each other, and lift one another up. We build a model that allows us to be full, whole humans in right relationship with one another.
    • Utang Na Loob: We respect and honor our community, elders, and ancestors, as well as the land and its resources. We take a no/low-waste, sustainable approach, and we celebrate the beauty and richness of our heritage.
    • Mapanlikha: We move from a place of possibility, learning from the past and our experiences while actively creating our vision for the future. We pay close attention to how we can constantly improve while shaping the narrative of what’s possible.

Nothing about this epic experience was “mid” or forgettable, nor was it snooty or snobby or inaccessible.  Nobody was going through the motions.  Even with my own hang-ups about fine dining (that it isn’t meant for people like me), I never felt like an impostor or a sellout or a disappointment to my parents.  It was a close to perfect as a meal could be, and I had a blast!  Kaya has clearly earned its Michelin Green star for sustainability, and deserves to be in that rarified pantheon of top restaurants in Orlando, if not all of Florida, but I feel like it deserves a regular star as well, if not two.  By the way, according to the website, “kaya” means capable in Tagalog, and “kaya natin” means we can.   They are beyond capable, and not only can they, but they do.

And as much as I hoped to return to Kaya sooner rather than later, I surprised myself by returning just a few weeks later — yesterday, in fact!  But it wasn’t for another dinner, not this time.  Instead, Executive Pastry Chef Clarice Lam hosts an event called Kapé Kaya, a daytime bakery concept featuring her awe-inspiring pastries, every Saturday, from 9:30 AM until 12 PM.  I’ve seen pictures of her past creations, but this was a rare treat: the second of three Kapé Kaya events where she teams up with another local restaurant hero: Chef Tyler Brunache of SmokeMade Meats + Eats, my favorite barbecue restaurant in Orlando that won Michelin Bib Gourmand awards for “good quality, good value cooking” in 2025 and 2026.

This was like when Jack White teamed up with Norah Jones… or when Jack White teamed up with Alison Mosshart from The Kills… or when Jack White teamed up with Q-Tip from A Tribe Called Quest!  Or maybe like the too-rare team-ups between Daredevil and Captain America, a pairing that makes all the sense in the world even though you don’t automatically think of them as obvious partners.  I had to be there, so I arrived around 8:45 AM, and there were already about 30 people ahead of me, waiting in line outside Kaya.  The heat and humidity didn’t get too bad until around 9:30, but they moved things along pretty well inside.  In the meantime, we studied the menu:

Jami came outside to announce when they were finally opening up, and I couldn’t believe she recognized me after meeting me once, a few weeks ago.  (I was also somewhat incognito, wearing sunglasses and my “I Love Research” bucket hat under the baking morning sun, looking like the nerdiest rapper ever, and she still recognized me and gave me a hug.)  When I finally got in, they had all the gorgeous pastries on display on the bar, with labels and prices.  You order and pay up front, then wait for the staff to assemble your order in large pink bakery boxes. 

I thanked Chef Lam on the way out the door, and even though I had considered doing it, I refrained from doing my Anthony Hopkins-as-Hannibal Lecter impression, greeting her with “Hello, Clarice.”  She’s probably heard it before, and Mads Mikkelsen was the better Hannibal Lecter anyway, by far.  (I said what I said.)  I was on my way by 10:15, leaving me enough time to make it to donate blood in Altamonte Springs by my 11 AM appointment time.  As usual, I brought a cooler with me to keep my Kapé Kaya treats safe and cool in this awful summer heat.

Back at home, this is a close-up of my brisket bear claw, which had buttery, flaky layers like the best croissant you’ve ever had.

This was the longganisa sausage bun, and keep in mind this was all one interconnected thing!  I’ve been lucky enough to catch Chef Tyler’s longganisa sausage as a weekend special at SmokeMade, and I love how sweet and savory it is.  All his house-made sausages have a perfect crispy natural casing, and Chef Lam’s dough was kind of like a savory danish pastry, not flaky and layered like the bear claw.

I love macaroni salad and always enjoy the slightly sweet taste of surimi (imitation “krab”) in sushi and poke, so I couldn’t resist the krab macaroni salad puff pastry tart.  It was so refreshing, especially compared to the other two heavier pastries, and the tart shell was flaky and light.

Here they are on a plate, so you can see a cross-section of the brisket bear claw with all those laminated dough layers and smoked brisket, gouda cheese, pickles, and barbecue sauce inside.  Upon tearing into it, it reminded me of a cross between a croissant and the Cuban pastelitos I grew up eating in Miami, sometimes stuffed with seasoned ground beef called picadillo.

And here are my sweet choices.  One the left, I got the mango coconut croissant bibingka, because I thought it was something my wife and I would both like, whereas I figured the savory pastries above would be all mine.  This thing was so dense and rich, we’re both slowly working our way through it over 36 hours later, a bite or two at a time.  Like so many other Filipino dishes, bibingka is new to me, so I looked it up.  Serious Eats never lets me down: it is a “coconut-flavored, banana-leaf scented rice cake topped with caramelized coconut strips.”  However, not having had prior bibingka experience, I would have guessed it was more like a bread pudding, since that’s what the texture and consistency felt like to me.  I loved the mango puree on top.  It was so good, but a little goes a long way.The same could be said for Chef Lam’s “thick’em cookie,” the one thing my wife actually requested.  This is a huge cookie, even bigger than the ones from Gideon’s Bakehouse.  The edges were crispy, but the rest was soft and yielding, which I always prefer in my cookies.  There were chocolate chunks, corn flakes, and some fancy salt crystals sprinkled on top.  My wife was in heaven, and she has also been nibbling away at the cookie because you can’t just devour it.  This plate was surprisingly heavy with both of these on it.

So that was my amazing Kapé Kaya experience, just weeks after my first dinner at Kaya.  I am posting this NOW because there is one more scheduled Kapé Kaya crossover with SmokeMade Meats and Eats, and that is next Saturday morning, August 1st.  I’ll probably be seeing the next Spider-Man movie before the Internet can spoil it all for me, but all my dozens of readers should do whatever it takes to be at Kaya before the line gets too long and the heat gets too unbearable.  Spider-Man is supposed to team up with the Hulk and the Punisher, but the best team-up in Orlando is going to be happening right at Kaya, and you don’t want to miss it!

Bachour (Coral Gables)

Bachour (https://antoniobachour.com/) is a beloved bakery-cafe-restaurant in Coral Gables, a historic and tony area of Miami.  I was down that way back in May, visiting my family in Kendall for the first time in far too long.  I also spent some quality time with my best friend (going back to elementary school) and his amazing girl, taking advantage of their generous hospitality and visiting parts of Miami I never ventured out to when I grew up down there.  The last day I was in town, we had brunch at Bachour, and his mom — who just happened to be my first-grade teacher! — joined us.  We had a great time, despite getting rained on while we ate in a semi-covered outdoor alcove.  The food, which combined French and Latin influences, was magnificent.

Founded by Puerto Rican-born Chef Antonio Bachour, Bachour is known for gorgeous pastries, arranged artfully in glass display cases:

We started out with an order of arepa fritters, one perfect crispy fried sphere for each of us, stuffed with cotija cheese and held in place with avocado puree underneath.

We also got an order of tequeños, small pastries made of long, flat strips of dough wrapped around salty queso blanco and baked or fried.  (These were fried.)  They were served with cilantro garlic aioli dipping sauce, which was so good, I kept it for whatever was coming next.

This stunning swirled pastry is Bachour’s version of a cinnamon roll.  Look at those crispy, light, flaky layers of laminated dough.  It was a work of art.

My boy’s mom ordered this creme brulee French toast with vanilla custard and mascarpone creme as her entree, even though that’s a dessert in my book.  

His lovely ladyfriend got this breakfast sandwich with scrambled eggs, applewood smoked bacon, aged cheddar, truffle butter, and arugula (it’s a veg-EH-ta-ble) on a soft brioche bun.  

She also ordered a side of crispy home fries with it.

My friend got the Bachour crispy chicken sandwich, with butter lettuce and creamy, crispy slaw on a brioche bun, and he said it was one of the best chicken sandwiches he’s ever had.  He chose fries as his side instead of a salad, which makes me think of John Mulaney’s routine about ordering a chicken sandwich and choosing between the two most different foods in the universe.

And as for me, your friend and humble narrator, one of those foods that always tempts and tantalizes me is smoked salmon, so I got something I normally never order anywhere, a club sandwich (a triple-decker sandwich with bacon, lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise on white toast) with smoked salmon and a bit of avocado added in.  Club sandwiches often slide apart, or the toasted bread crumbles under the architecturally unsound structure of its fillings, but I am a grown man, and I promise you I did my best.   
Even though I really have been trying to eat healthier, I kept the server from removing that delicious cilantro garlic aioli from earlier, so I ordered fries instead of a salad too, figuring I would share them with everyone else at the table to assuage my guilty conscience (another Mulaney bit).

I brought home two croissants for my wife.  This one was pistachio:

And this one was almond.  She loved both, but I don’t think she mentioned a favorite between them. 

All in all, it was a nice visit back home, and a highlight of the trip was this wonderful brunch shared with some of the best people I know.  I had heard of Bachour before, but just like 90% of places I hear about in Miami, I never thought I would actually go there.  Well, on this recent trip down, I scratched a few of those semi-mythical spots off my list.  This was a great meal, and the company couldn’t be beat.

Lo Mejor Del Mundo Cuban Cafe

Lo Mejor Del Mundo Cuban Cafe (https://www.facebook.com/lomejordelmundocubancafe/) is a small, casual, no-frills Cuban cafe and restaurant (hence the name) at 181 Oxford Rd, in Fern Park, Florida.  Where Casselberry ends and Fern Park begins, I have never quite figured out, and I live around here!  That stretch of Oxford Road is currently torn up by construction, but if you can get through, it is definitely worth a stop in.  On my first visit in a long time, these guys were waiting outside the door, wishing they could get in:

As I often do, I brought home takeout.  This was ropa vieja (literally translated to “old clothes”: a savory, hearty dish of shredded beef stewed in a tomatoey sauce with onions and bell peppers, served with fluffy white rice and sweet fried plantains (maduros), which are always one of my favorite foods. 

My wife wanted this bistec con chimichurri, steak cut thin and pounded even thinner, then topped with chimichurri, a bright condiment made of parsley, garlic, olive oil, and salt that goes perfectly with just about any meat.  She is always much more into steak than I am.  It was served on a bed of moros rice (white rice mixed together with savory black beans, sometimes referred to as congri), with even more maduros on the side. 

Each meal came with beans, which they served in separate containers to avoid them dripping out of the styrofoam boxes.  I prefer red beans when they are an option, and my wife is a traditionalist and prefers the black beans.

I hadn’t been here in so long, I also got a Cuban sandwich for the purpose of reviewing it here.  It isn’t the biggest Cuban sandwich in the Orlando area, nor the best, but even a mid Cuban sandwich is better than not having one at all.  It was also on the dry side, but a lot of places serve really dry roast pork on their Cubanos.  I think I might have added more mustard from my vast mustard collection and more pickles (Grillo’s, natch) once I unwrapped it and took the first few bites.

These pastries were far better: a pastelito con carne and a fried empanada con carne.  But you can never go wrong with either of these! 

Yes indeed, they were both stuffed with seasoned ground beef.  Some places add tomato sauce and even olives and raisins for a specific Cuban dish called picadillo, but these were much more standard.  I love how the baked pastry shell of pastelitos is often slightly sweet, contrasting against its savory fillings, and you can’t ever go wrong with the rich fried dough shell of Cuban empanadas.

And finally, I got a quesito for each of us — sweet pastries stuffed with sweetened cream cheese.  Funny thing is, growing up on Cuban food in Miami (mostly from Latin American Cafeteria, which we could walk to from our house, and La Carreta), I don’t remember ever getting quesitos like this down there.  But when I moved to Orlando in 2004, they were ubiquitous at Cuban restaurants, cafes, and bakeries.  Hey, I’m not complaining!  

It was interesting revisiting Lo Mejor Del Mundo Cuban Cafe after so many years.  Not being on a main road, and with all the construction happening right in front of the little shopping strip it’s in, the place could definitely use a spotlight shined on it.  That said, everything I brought home was perfectly fine, but in the future, I’ll drive a little further to Cubans on the Run (where Casselberry starts fading into Longwood) or further still to Vicky Bakery.

Wine 4 Oysters

Wine 4 Oysters (https://www.wine4oysters.com/) is a friendly neighborhood restaurant and bar with a nautical theme and a seafood-centric menu.  It has been on my radar for years, but it’s in East Orlando, at 1957 South Alafaya Trail in the Publix plaza, south of the sprawling Waterford Lakes shopping plaza and State Road 408, in a part of town I NEVER go to, so I had never made it… until two weeks ago.  I timed my visit with my wife for 4 PM on a very rare Friday off, to be there when Wine 4 Oysters opens, snag one of their few booths, and take advantage of their happy hour specials.

This is the counter.  I appreciate any blue decor in restaurants, which I find soothing and comforting. 

Here is the opposite side of the dining room.  There are two half-booths in the very front, up against the front window that lets in lots of natural light, and you can see the one other half-booth in the back. 

We both studied the menu in advance, but my wife was more prepared than I.  She knew exactly what she wanted, and she defaulted to two time-tested favorite dishes.  The first one was baked brie, which came in a ramekin, melty and warm, topped with walnuts.  They served it with toasted bread, cranberry sauce, and apple wedges on the side.  I love cheese, but brie honestly does nothing for me, so this was all her.  She doesn’t eat a lot, so she brought quite a bit of this home to enjoy the next day.

As for me, I love oysters, but they are such a rare treat for me.  I realize I haven’t had oysters in well over a year, but we’ve been dealing with some very stressful health-related situations lately, and I also had some good things happen at work that we haven’t had a chance to celebrate or even acknowledge.  Since we were finally at Wine 4 Oysters during their happy hour, I said “screw it” (actually, I said something a little more adult) and ordered 30 plump Gulf oysters for the excellent price of $35.  My wife doesn’t like raw oysters, so I ate them all myself… and I’d do it again.  They were so cool and refreshing, and so far, I am not regretting it. 

The oysters came with accompaniments: the lemon wedges and cocktail sauce above, plus hot sauce, a French mignonette with shallots in red wine vinegar, a different mignonette with jalapenos and lemon, and grated horseradish in the cylindrical container.  I tried them all in various combinations and permutations, and it was nice.  It was just nice being there, out on a rare Friday date with my wife, who has been through so much lately, enjoying a huge platter of one of my favorite “sometimes foods,” going through the ritual of topping them with various acidic accoutrements to enhance their fresh, briny flavor.

At happy hour (which is 4 to 6 PM, Monday through Friday), in addition to the 30 Gulf oysters for $35, Wine 4 Oysters also offers 30% off James River oysters from Virginia, oyster shooters, and cocktails.  And on Wednesdays, I believe they run an all-you-can-drink wine special, so bohemians, wine moms, and UCF students, just be careful, that’s all I ask.

I am always a sucker for smoked fish dip, that Old Florida standard that has infinite variations, but it’s almost always great.  Like Italian subs, chili, and onion rings, I will almost always order smoked fish dip if I see it on a menu, so I was immediately drawn to the house smoked tuna dip at Wine 4 Oysters.  It was presented as a large scoop over a spring mix salad with wasabi dressing, accompanied by long, thin, unsalted flatbread-style crackers (Sixty Vines serves similar ones).  I was a little disappointed that the “dip” was more like the consistency of tuna salad, rather than a creamy dip.  It tasted good because I happen to like tuna salad a lot, but it wasn’t what I expected or hoped for.  I blame myself rather than the restaurant.  The taste and texture made me think it was made from regular canned tuna fish rather than ahi tuna or some other higher-grade tuna.  I’ve made similar-tasting tuna salad at home, sometimes with a splash (or more) of liquid smoke, so even though it was fine, and I ate every morsel, it didn’t blow me away.

One thing my wife will always order on a menu is octopus.  She loves those tender, brainy cephalopods!  This lemon garlic octopus came with one large, heavily seasoned, super-garlicky tentacle, plus a mountain of white rice with some seasoning on top, a scoop of relatively thin baba ghanoush, and a mixed greens salad with pomegranate dressing, probably made from pomegranate molasses.  She loves baba ghanoush too (and she orders that anywhere it is available), so this was a winning combination for her. That said, since she was pretty full from the baked brie and doesn’t eat that much to begin with, she only tried a tiny bit of the octopus at the restaurant.  We (mostly she) brought home a bunch of leftovers, and she had more of the octopus the following day, just chilled, straight out of the fridge.  She said it was much tastier the following day, eaten cold!

Finally, I thought we would both enjoy the Russian beef pelmeni dumplings, and we did.  They were pretty much what I hoped for, with thin, chewy dumpling wrappers, similar to Chinese wontons and the wonderful, beautiful manty dumplings we enjoyed so much recently at Uzbek restaurant Chayhana, but with seasoned beef filling.  They were served in a pool of melted butter and topped with a dollop of rich sour cream and plenty of parsley.  Both of us enjoyed these quite a bit.  I don’t know if they were handmade (because you can buy frozen pelmeni from multiple brands at Green Hills Supermarket, the huge Russian and Eastern European grocery store in Altamonte Springs), but it doesn’t matter, because they might have been my favorite part of the entire meal. 

I don’t know when I’ll make it back to Wine 4 Oysters, but it’s the kind of place more people should know about, so here I am, boosting the signal.  I love oysters so much, and even though I’ll always sing the praises of High Tide Harry’s and The Osprey, two of my favorite restaurants in the entire Orlando metropolitan area, it is always good to have options.  Wine 4 Oysters is another fine oyster option, especially for people living on the east side of town.