Dough Boyz Pizzeria

Dough Boyz Pizzeria (https://doughboyzpizzaoviedo.com/) is located in a small, nondescript strip plaza in Oviedo, near the intersection of Aloma Avenue and Tuskawilla Road, just west of State Road 417.  It is a few doors down from Ramen Takagi, a Saboscrivner favorite and home of the best tonkotsu ramen in the Orlando area.  It is also a few moments from another newer discovery I enjoyed earlier this year, Alma Argentina.

Like any good New York-style pizzeria, Dough Boyz offers pizza by the slice, which is my preferred way to try any new pizzeria.  While I was bringing home a whole pie, I had to try a plain cheese slice, crispy and warm from the oven, while I was still on the premises.  To me, that’s the best way to get an idea of any pizzeria at its best.  I ate this huge slice in the car, and it did not disappoint.  It was the perfect blend of crispy and chewy, with nice robust sauce (not too acidic nor too sweet), melty mozzarella, and a thin crust that wasn’t burnt to a crisp.  It was a little floppy, but that doesn’t bother me at all.  

But this was the main event that I brought home, the grandma Sicilian, a thin-crust square pizza that is already pretty unique, because most Sicilian pizzas in my experience are thick and on the chewy side, with crispy bottoms and edges from cooking in a pan.  Dough Boyz does that thicker Sicilian style too, but this was one hot grandma!  It was topped with their house-made plum tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella (it’s fun to call it “MOOT-sa-DELL”), and homemade pesto sauce — a perfect combination.  The only things I could have possibly added to edge this pizza pie further into pie-fection would have been some fresh basil leaves and a swirl of balsamic glaze.  But I can’t complain, because it was a little slice of heaven — or more like twelve huge, rectangular slices of heaven.

A major reason I wanted to try Dough Boyz, out of all the friendly neighborhood pizzerias in every single strip plaza around here, was because they sell cheesecake from a local baker based in DeBary, Florida, Cheesecake Chino’s.  I haven’t met Chino himself, but I have interacted with him online, and I wanted to try his New York-style cheesecake to compare it to familiar ones like Publix, the Factory, and my personal favorite cheesecake, from the New York-based Junior’s. The slice I got reminded me more of Junior’s than any other cheesecake I’ve had, and I mean that in the best possible way.  It was a plain, dense slice with no toppings or additional flavors (fine with me), with the slight tangy tartness I crave from cheesecake, and an interesting chocolate crust, rather than a more typical graham cracker crust (or the weird cakey crust Junior’s uses, which is maybe the only thing I don’t love about their cheesecakes).  It was very good, and I would be really interested in trying some other varieties from Cheesecake Chino’s in the future.  I’m always thrilled to support local bakers, just as I love supporting local restaurants.

Two weeks had not passed before I returned to Dough Boyz for another takeout mission.  I had not seen arancini on the menu, but when I arrived at the restaurant and saw them, I had to order one for my wife.  She loves these things: a ball of creamy rice stuffed with seasoned ground beef and peas, rolled in seasoned bread crumbs and fried to perfection: crispy on the outside and soft and yielding on the inside.  If you’ve ever had a Cuban papa rellena, it’s surprisingly similar, just with risotto instead of mashed potatoes.
It came with a dipping cup of marinara, but she wanted nothing to do with that, so I had something to dip my pizza crusts in.  Score!

I ordered an eggplant rollatini pizza for us to share over the next few days — a classic New York-style pie with plum tomato sauce, “special blend” ricotta cheese, and thin slices of breaded and fried eggplant, but no mozzarella cheese.  My wife likes eggplant and especially eggplant rollatini more than I do, but I ended up liking this pizza more than she did.  I know she doesn’t share my red sauce obsession, but I think Dough Boyz has a particularly good, fresh-tasting tomato sauce, and I’m not at all surprised that they make it in-house.

And after trying the thin crust Grandma Sicilian last time, I had to go back for the thicc Brooklyn Sicilian this time.  I would have settled for a slice, but they didn’t have any Sicilian slices left, so I sprang for a whole pie, knowing I’d make it last over several days.  It started out with twelve slices, but I HOUSED three of them before remembering to take this photo.  I loooove Sicilian pizza, you guys.  I used to get slices at Cozzoli’s Pizza in the Dadeland Mall food court in suburban Kendall as a kid, and that’s how my love affair with rectangular, pillowy-soft, crispy-edged  Sicilian pizza started, in the early ’80s in Miami.
This Brooklyn is slightly different from other Sicilian pizzas I’ve had elsewhere (including from Orlando-area mainstays Valdiano, Del Dio, Paradiso, and Antonella’s) because the chunky, robust tomato sauce is applied on top of the mozzarella and provolone cheeses, and then the whole thing is topped with oregano, grated parmesan cheese, and olive oil.  It makes it messier to eat, but really, really good.   I have always said that the sauce is usually the most ignored ingredient on pizza, but Dough Boyz takes their sauce as seriously as their dough and cheese.

Finally, for dessert on this epic second takeout trip, I brought home Dough Boyz — not the staff of the actual pizzeria, but fried dough balls topped with so much powdered sugar that they looked like they were partying in the aforementioned Miami, perhaps in the 1980s.  You may know them better as zeppoli.  My wife absolutely loved these, even more than the cheesecake, but I stand by the cheesecake.

Dough Boyz Pizzeria does have a few tables for dining in, but it is a no-frills place, and I’m guessing the vast majority of their business comes from takeout.  I’m sold.  It is twelve minutes from my home, and I pass a few other pizzerias to get there, but they have earned a loyal and enthusiastic regular customer moving forward.  Give them a try, especially if you’ve heard the tiresome bleats of ex-New Yorkers saying there is no good pizza in Orlando.  There is plenty, and you can just click on the “Pizza” category link in this review to read my other reviews on the subject (or just click on all the other links I’ve made sure to sprinkle into this review, like so much parmesan cheese).  My personal favorite pizzeria is too much of a schlep across town to just get there anytime I crave it (sorry, John & John’s – A Pizza Shop), but Dough Boyz is my new friendly neighborhood destination, and I’ll be back again before long.

Royal Thai Cuisine

Royal Thai Cuisine (https://royalthai-orlando.com/) opened in 1996, and I started dining there with friends shortly after moving to Orlando back in 2004.  It helped that it was so close to the job I held for 15 years, but along the way, other Thai restaurants opened, and I got distracted.  I recently returned to Royal Thai with two friends — both former co-workers from that old job — and I realized it had been several years since my last visit, definitely before I started this blog in 2018.

It was nice to go back there after so many memorable lunches and dinners, including an unforgettable Halloween dinner over 15 years ago, where my wife (then just my girlfriend) and a group of friends and I showed up there in full costume.  My old roommate was dressed as a sleazy redneck in a sleeveless white T-shirt and a mullet wig under a ball cap, and he must have looked like trouble when we entered the crowded restaurant that night.  When he took off the cap and the mullet came off with it, everyone in the dining room cracked up.  Needless to say, my former co-workers and I were a lot more sedate on our recent visit.

We started with an order of crispy spring rolls, listed as #1 on the menu (completely randomly), but they might be #1 as far as spring rolls go.  Royal Thai serves an order of three spring rolls, each one bisected into six more or less equal pieces, perfect for sharing with two friends (or devouring alone).  The dipping sauce is plum sauce — sweet and sticky; not spicy at all — but I was the only one who availed myself of it. 

Here’s a cross-section of the crispy spring roll.  It is loaded with savory clear noodles, onions, cabbage, and carrots.  Some places sneak mushrooms into these things, but I was relieved Royal Thai doesn’t do that. 

One friend ordered a dish called param, which was completely unfamiliar to me: a protein (she chose chicken) served over fresh spinach leaves and topped with peanut sauce.  It came with a side of fragrant, nutty smelling jasmine rice that I didn’t photograph, but you all know what a bowl of white rice looks like.

Another friend, who happens to be a vegetarian, ordered pad Thai with tofu.  I love pad Thai, but I rarely order it for myself because I almost always end up with someone else who gets it for themselves.  The noodles were stir-fried with bean sprouts and green onions and topped with some fresh shredded cabbage and carrots, with crushed peanuts on the side.  I asked her if it was tangy or sour, because that’s how I really like my pad Thai to be.  She was kind enough to let me try a forkful, and while it was a solid version of the classic dish, it wasn’t terribly tangy.

After so many years without visiting Royal Thai, I was having a hard time deciding what to get, but I defaulted to my standard dish at any Thai restaurant: pad kee mao, or drunken noodles.  I love this dish of wide, flat rice noodles stir-fried with onions bell peppers, fresh basil, and a sauce that is usually a little sweet and a little spicy, but everyone’s version is a little different.  Royal Thai also includes bamboo shoots (I was intimidated by these until trying them for the first time five years ago at Susuru), snow peas, and baby corn — ingredients I don’t usually seek out, but they were perfectly fine here.   They also include mushrooms — my culinary Kryptonite — but were nice enough to hold them for me.  I got pork as my protein, by the way. 

To this day, I don’t know if I could identify the best drunken noodles in Orlando, even though I have ordered them at least once at every Thai restaurant I’ve ever been to.  Of course, there are still a lot more Thai restaurants I need to visit.  I usually order them with the hot spice level, but I was taking my wife to St. Petersburg the next day (see last week’s review of Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish) and decided to go easy on my stomach and get these drunken noodles medium-spiced.  Whenever I return to Royal Thai (which I will, and I won’t wait as long either), I’ll probably order something different next time to work my way through the lengthy menu, and I’ll definitely try it hot instead of medium.  After all these years, I have the utmost faith in them to do a good job of anything.

Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish (St. Petersburg)

Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish (https://tedpetersfish.com/) is a legendary landmark in St. Petersburg, Florida, right off the beach.  It is a perfect example of a classic “Old Florida” seafood restaurant and smokehouse, the kinds of places that barely exist anymore, but those that remain are both time capsules and treasures.  Founded in 1951 and still family-owned and in its original location, Ted Peters conjures up sights, smells, and tastes of a bygone era, but luckily we can still enjoy them today.  In fact, just last month, Southern Living magazine (which features some pretty great food writing) included Ted Peters in its list of Florida’s 17 Most Legendary Restaurants.  (I have been to five of them and reviewed one other on this blog, Bern’s Steak House.)

I first visited Ted Peters with my wife several years ago, long before I started writing as The Saboscrivner in 2018.  But strangely enough, neither of us remembered much about our first visit, aside from that I liked it.  I’ve been wanting to return for years, and on a recent weekend getaway to St. Pete Beach, it was my first stop after checking into our hotel and depositing my wife in our room.  I brought back a takeout feast, knowing the room had a mini-fridge in case we couldn’t finish everything.  But we were both stunned by the portion sizes upon my return — somehow you’d think that would have stuck in my memory when we ate there the first time, but it didn’t.  This recent visit was like getting to experience it all again for the first time.

Just so you know, it doesn’t get much more casual than this place.  There are plenty of tables on a covered patio, and they can pull down outer walls in case it rains, as it did on the sweltering late June afternoon I showed up there.  There is also an enclosed dining room with some rustic decor — wood-paneled walls and stuffed animal heads.  I just poked my head in the room but didn’t linger.  You can order beer (or root beer) in frosty glass mugs, but it’s a family-friendly restaurant in every way, not some kind of dirty dive (although it was featured on Guy Fieri’s Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives show).

This is the menu that hangs above the bar, with accurate prices as of June 30th, 2024:

They offer four kinds of smoked fish, all smoked over red oak wood: salmon, mullet, mahi mahi, and mackerel, but mackerel was out of season.  Both of our orders came in huge white paper boxes, like the kind of boxes a bakery would send you home with a large pie or cake in.  Like I said, we were both stunned back at the hotel when I opened everything up and saw how much fish they give you.

My wife asked for a smoked salmon lunch, which comes with fish, tomato, onion, pickle, and lemon.  It was a huge hunk of salmon, hot-smoked to a golden brown color, compared to the delicate pink nova salmon we know and love from a lifetime of bagel breakfasts, appetizing stores, and delicatessens.  The hot-smoked salmon was drier and flakier than the tender, thin-sliced nova that melts in your mouth, but it was still really good.  You just have to think of it as its own thing — not as salty as nova, but much more oily and “fishy.”  
The entire piece had thin, crispy salmon skin underneath that was easy to separate, even with the flimsy plastic fork and knife they included, but we both love salmon skin, so it was a nice surprise treat.

Because mackerel was out of season, I ordered a mullet dinner for myself, and not just because I had a mullet back in 8th and 9th grade.   This was a nice piece of fish, even longer than the salmon filet, just not as thick because mullet is a smaller fish.  This one reminded me more of the golden smoked whitefish I treat myself to every few years, which I pull apart to make rich, decadent whitefish salad.  Like whitefish, mullet is full of long, thin, plasticky, pin-like bones that you have to carefully remove, as well as one long spine that you can pull out in one piece like a cat in an old-timey cartoon.  As a result, the mullet was harder to eat in a hotel room due to how messy it is, but we brought a lot home, packed tightly in a cooler with ice, and I made it into some smoked mullet salad back in my kitchen.

Unlike the salmon, you can’t eat the scaly skin of the mullet (the entire underside), so I did what I could to peel it all off, along with the tail, fins, and all those bones.  The little sauce containers were a creamy horseradish sauce that had a slight sweetness (not nearly as intensely spicy as the horseradish sauce at Orlando’s beloved Beefy King) and another sauce that was seemingly ranch (that one was for the Swifties), but possibly with some Cajun seasoning added.  I brought those home as well and added them to the flaky, deboned mullet (because the meat is also drier than the smoked whitefish I’m used to).

The difference between the lunch and the dinner is that the dinner comes with cole slaw and potato salad, so of course I had to try those!  The cole slaw was creamy, crunchy, and refreshing, perfect for cutting through the intensely fishy, oily, smoky flavors and textures.

The potato salad is actually German potato salad, so it is tangy and the slightest bit sweet from being made with apple cider vinegar instead of the standard mayonnaise.  It is also rich, smoky, and has a nice blend of soft and crunchy textures from crumbles of bacon.  It was served warm, as German potato salad usually is, and it was terrific.  I’m so glad I sprang for the dinner instead of the lunch.

I couldn’t go to Ted Peters and not try their famous smoked fish spread, which I definitely did not try on my first visit however long ago.   My wife didn’t care for it as much as the salmon and mullet, but surprise surprise, I liked it even more — maybe due to it being less intensely fishy and smoky.  The fish (I’m assuming mullet, but it could be a blend) was mixed into a uniform creamy consistency with mayo and sweet pickle relish, adding some sweetness, coolness, and crunch.  It reminded me of a really terrific tuna salad with that smoky flavor shining through but not overpowering.   
At the restaurant, you can order smoked fish spread with Saltine crackers, but for takeout orders, you just order it by the half-pint, pint, or quart.  I got a half-pint, and it didn’t come with crackers, so I had to run by Publix to buy some Saltines.  They were fine, but I still contend that anything Saltines can do, Ritz can do better.  But my wife loves Saltines, and I wanted to follow the founders’ intent here.

At this point, a couple of you might be lamenting “What if I don’t eat fish?” or “What if I don’t like smoked fish?”  Well, first of all, I would probably suggest trying a different restaurant.  There are so many to choose from up and down St. Pete Beach and on the mainland, and many are in the good-to-great range.  But just in case, I had always read that Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish serves really tasty burgers, and I had to put that to the test.  I’m a cheeseburger guy, and I think American cheese is the best cheese you can put on a burger.  But my wife doesn’t like cheese on burgers, so I ordered a plain hamburger with her in mind, just in case any of the fish were “too fishy” for her.  When I showed her the plain burger as an option, she said it looked a little sad, plus she surprised both of us by liking the smoked salmon and mullet as much as she did.

Now I like a lot of stuff on a burger (surprise, surprise), so if it looked sad, that’s because it was plain.  Since she wanted nothing to do with it, I added ketchup, yellow mustard, and relish (from included packets), the “seemingly ranch” sauce, and lettuce and tomato.  It was delicious!  It tasted like a burger you’d get at a cookout with that nice flavor from the grill.  The bun was your typical squishy white bread bun, not grilled or toasted or anything, but absolutely fine for what it was.  Adding American cheese and grilled onions and grilling the bun might have brought this burger over the top, but I have no complaints.  If you don’t want your fingers or your breath to smell like smoked fish for hours after dining, like if you’re on a really hot date at Ted Peters, then consider the burger.

Now key lime pie is one of my favorite desserts ever, but my wife doesn’t share my love for it.  I was all ready to skip the tempting key lime pie on Ted Peters’ menu for the second time, but it was actually her idea to order a slice.  Of course I did not argue!  It was nice and tangy, an ideal dessert for balancing out smoky, rich fish, but the crust was rather crumbly and a bit bland.  Rather than the standard moist graham cracker crust, it might have been made of shortbread or even ‘Nilla Wafers, that mainstay of Southern-style banana pudding.  (When I was a little Saboscrivner, before I spent 15 years working for a Catholic law school, I used to think the “wafers” consumed during Catholic mass were ‘Nilla Wafers.)
I would definitely recommend it anyway, since key lime pie is Florida’s official dessert (or should be), and it does go so perfectly at the end of a meal like this.  But this is a rare occasion where I might give the edge to the Publix bakery, and I would be remiss if I didn’t credit the award-winning baker Evette Rahman of Sister Honey’s Bakery in Orlando for making the best key lime pie I’ve ever had in my life.

So anyway, Southern Living is right on about this place.  And if you don’t believe me and don’t believe them, my friend and role model Amy Drew Thompson, the food writer for the Orlando Sentinel, is a fellow fan of Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish, and she definitely knows what she’s talking about.  But hopefully you can see from my words and pictures that Ted Peters is a unique experience, something that is all too rare in Florida and almost nonexistent anywhere else.  After our most recent visit to St. Pete Beach, I said again what I’ve said before, that if I had to live anywhere in Florida that isn’t in or around Orlando, the St. Pete/Tampa area would be it for me.  My wife and I love St. Pete Beach for short little weekend getaways, but it would totally be worth a day trip from Orlando just to take in a taste of timeless Old Florida at Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish.  Eat on the patio,  spring for the dinner so you can have German potato salad and cole slaw, get your hands a little dirty, raise a frosty mug, and be glad that after all these decades and generations, the crew at Ted Peters still smokes fish every day.

CLOSED: La Femme Du Fromage

EDIT: Tonda Corrente closed La Femme Du Fromage in Orlando’s East End Market at the end of October 2025, but I’m sure we haven’t seen the last of her, or her cheeses.

***

La Femme Du Fromage (https://www.lafemmedufromage.com/) is Orlando’s finest cheese shop, but it is also a restaurant.  Located inside our hipster-friendly food hall in the Audubon Park district, the East End Market, this stall is a required destination for anyone who loves cheese… and wine, and charcuterie boards, and the finest grilled cheese sandwiches you’ll ever find anywhere.  The finer things in life, basically.

Owner-operator-cheesemonger-chef Tonda Corrente is a delightful person with great taste in music — you thought I was going to say cheese, didn’t you?  Well, she has the best taste in cheese of anyone I’ve ever known, and she even introduced me to my all-time favorite cheese, Cahill’s Irish porter cheddar, as beautiful as it is delicious.  I am currently obsessed with her grilled cheese sandwiches, and I am dragging everyone I know to her little shop, one by one, to get them equally obsessed.

I ate there recently with a former co-worker, a brilliant professor and top-notch legal mind who I have the utmost respect for.  This person admits to not being the most adventurous eater, so I figured suggesting Tonda’s cheesy creations was a safe bet.  It was.  We shared a magnificent early lunch on a Friday, dining at one of the outdoor tables at East End Market before it got too unbearably hot.  The only issue at La Femme Du Fromage is what to choose, because every sandwich on the menu tempts and entices.  I think we both chose wisely.

Because all my friends know how much I love a good Italian sandwich, I chose Tonda’s baked Italian sandwich, which was stuffed with genoa salami, prosciutto di Parma, housemade chorizo spread (kind of like nduja, that wonderfully rich, soft, spicy, spreadable sausage), house-made olive tapenade, and of course Tonda’s three-cheese blend (cheddar, gruyere, and havarti), topped with arugula and citrus vinaigrette, on a crusty baguette.  It was a fine, fine sandwich.  No complaints, no regrets.  The only way to improve it would be for it to be twice the size, but it was great as is.

My friend ordered the egg and cheese sandwich, with a fried egg and Tonda’s three-cheese blend on garlic-buttered artisan bread.  It was a wise choice for a first-timer, and she seemed to like it a lot.  She was also kind enough to share it with me, and I thought it was a fabulous sandwich that blew me away.  It’s so simple, yet so perfect.

When I returned with my wife the following weekend (after raving about it all week), Tonda had a special menu available, in honor of the Kentucky Derby.  While I am not fascinated by big hats nor preoccupied with playing the ponies, I am a big fan of limited-time food specials.  But even I didn’t realize we would try three of them on this visit (my wife’s first trip to La Femme Du Fromage).

This was my Triple Crown grilled cheese, with hickory smoked ham, bourbon glaze, smoked gouda, Tonda’s three-cheese blend, berry port jam, and garlic chive butter, topped with crumbles of smoky blue cheese from Rogue River Creamery.  It was probably the best ham and cheese sandwich I’ve ever had in my life.  My wife didn’t try it, because (gasp!) she doesn’t like ham.  I know, right?

These were her Derby pretzels, soft pretzel sticks that reminded me of the ones I buy at Aldi.  However, they came with something you cannot get just anywhere: pimento cheese dip, that decadent Southern treasure that I always love to sample everywhere, because it’s always a little different but always good — kind of like chili, onion rings, and Italian sandwiches.  Tonda later told me this wasn’t house-made pimento cheese, but it came from Sweet Grass Dairy, where they added mayo, piquillo peppers, and Spanish pimentón to their own semi-soft, French-style Thomasville Tomme cheese.  It was awe-inspiring.   

This was the peach and prosciutto flatbread, another special recommended by Tonda herself, and it tasted like spring in all the best ways.  It included pesto sauce, mozzarella and goat cheese, arugula, and white balsamic glaze, in addition to the paper-thin slices of salty prosciutto (the rare kind of ham my wife will make an exception for, because it is that damn good) and fresh, juicy peaches.

Tonda Corrente and La Femme Du Fromage were featured in the Orlando episode of Somebody Feed Phil earlier this year, Phil Rosenthal’s good-natured food and travel show on Netflix.  Phil visited the East End Market, among other destinations in our City Beautiful, and he spotlighted some of our best local restaurants and their chefs and owners.  I even made a list of my own reviews of Phil’s Orlando stops, and by the time you read this new review, I will have updated that list with a link to it.  La Femme Du Fromage is a cheese-lover’s paradise, but there is nothing cheesy about it, or about its lovely, stylish proprietress Tonda, who has forgotten more about cheese than I will ever know.  You must pay her a visit and try her fabulous flatbreads and god-tier grilled cheese sandwiches, which she charges a reasonable amount of bread and cheddar for.

Caravan Uzbek & Turkish Cuisine

Night and stars above that shine so brightThe mystery of their fading lightThat shines upon our Caravan
–“Caravan,” lyrics by Irving Mills, music by Duke Ellington and Juan Tizol

It took me 45 minutes to drive to Caravan Uzbek & Turkish Cuisine (https://caravanhalal.com/) on a late Saturday afternoon, arriving right at 5 PM to pick up takeout that I ordered online at 4:15.  The restaurant looked nice inside, but it was too early for dinner, so it wasn’t busy.  For this first visit, my wife didn’t feel like driving all the way to South Orlando with me, but I was more than happy to race back home with dinner in my heating bag.  I had been wanting to try Caravan ever since I first heard about it some time last year, since we both love Turkish food, and a lot of our old favorites had either closed or let us down.  And I’m obsessed with trying new cuisines, so I was even more excited to try Uzbek food for the first time.

Interestingly, the Central Asian nation of Uzbekistan isn’t even next door to Turkey.  While Turkey straddles Europe and Asia and borders the Black Sea to the north and the Mediterranean Sea to the south, Uzbekistan is further east and completely landlocked by five different countries: Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Afghanistan.  Since you were dying to know, Uzbek and Russian are the main languages spoken, and like Turkey, Islam is the majority religion, even though both countries are considered secular states.  Still, with majority Muslim populations in both Turkey and Uzbekistan, that explains why all the food at Caravan is halal.

We started out getting a mezze platter, the combination of cold dips that is so refreshing and rewarding at almost every other Turkish restaurant we have enjoyed in the past.  We got five different dips, all packaged conveniently in separate plastic containers with lids that snapped on tightly, leading to no spills or leaks on the way home, which is always nice.  Each dip was topped with a grilled olive, which was a nice touch.

Hummus, which you’ve surely had before, in one form or another:

Babaganush, the smoky eggplant dip that is my wife’s favorite:

Ezme, my personal favorite, which is like a spicy Turkish pico de gallo with  finely processed tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, hot red pepper paste, parsley, and lemon juice.  This was a terrific version of ezme, like some of the nicest, freshest salsa or pico ever.

Haydari, a creamy, yogurt-based dip with dill, mint, and chunks of walnut:

The website said we would also get spinach sautéed with onions as part of the mezze platter, but instead of that, we got cacik, another cool and creamy yogurt-based dip that is thinner, with cucumber, garlic, and mint.  I was curious about the spinach and onions, but the cacik was good, so no complaints from me.

Instead of puffy, fluffy lavas bread like we’ve had countless times from Bosphorous, Zeytin, and the late and lamented Beyti, we ordered a Turkish bread called ekmek.  We got two round pieces, dusted with light and black sesame seeds.  They were more like standard loaves of bread that hadn’t risen very much, as opposed to true flatbreads like lavas or pita.  I ripped off pieces of ekmek to dip with gusto, but my wife wasn’t super-into it.     

I also ordered Uzbek bread, but was a little disappointed that Caravan just gave us wedges of store-bought pita, like I have bought countless times at various grocery stores:

The entrees we ordered were all really good, starting with an order of semechki, or lamb ribs, from the shish kebob section of the menu.  I love lamb in all its forms, especially braised lamb shanks, but I realized I have never tried lamb ribs, despite being a gigantic fan of beef and pork ribs.  The grilled lamb ribs were pretty tiny, without a whole lot of meat on the small bones, but the meat that was there was very tender, with intense flavor from the grill.  There were six pieces in the order, and they were served on a soft flour tortilla that absorbed the delicious meat juices.

My wife chose the to’y osh, an Uzbek dish of Lazer rice seasoned with cumin, coriander, raisins, sautéed onions, and yellow carrots cooked until they were soft, tender, and sweet.  It was topped with shredded beef that must have been braised, because it was really tender too.  Like I said, this was our first time trying any Uzbek dishes, but it reminded me strongly of biryani, a popular Indian dish of rice mixed with meat and vegetables that may have Persian origins.  The to’y osh was very subtly seasoned, lacking the strong flavors of biryani rice, but it was a heart, savory dish with a nice combination of textures.

Even though we liked everything except the store-bought pita (which I’m still going to salvage by baking it in the oven on the convection setting to crisp it up), the biggest hit for both of us was the fried laghman, the dish I’ve seen almost everyone order in the handful of Caravan reviews I’ve read so far.  This was a dish of hand-pulled wheat noodles, and since I am a noodle nerd, the name laghman comes from the Chinese lamian (for hand-pulled noodles, like you would get at Mr. J Hand-Pulled Noodle in Ocoee), which also led to both lo mein and Japanese ramen.  These long, chewy, thick noodles were stir-fried in a wok with fresh vegetables and tender strips of beef with a soy-based sauce — almost like lo mein.  When I looked it up, I wasn’t far off — laghman comes from the Uyghur people, an ethnic, primarily Muslim minority who live in China (where they are horribly persecuted) and have other communities in Uzbekistan and the other Central Asian countries that surround it.  This was also our first experience trying any Uyghur cuisine.

The laghman noodles looked like they would be spicy, and I was hoping they would be spicy, but much to my wife’s relief, they weren’t.  The only spicy things we ended up with were the ezme and a chunky hot sauce that came with the lamb ribs.  And I was all ready to use the cool, creamy, refreshing haydari and cacik to put out fires in my mouth, too!

This was an interesting first visit to Caravan, one that inspired me to do some geographic research before writing this review.  I had been wanting to go there with a group for quite some time, so we could order a bunch of dishes and share everything, but that hardly ever happens anymore.  Bringing home takeout to share with my ever-patient wife worked just as well, and we ended up with plenty of leftovers.  I have no idea how often I’ll make it back to Caravan, just because it is so far from home, but I feel like we made some great choices for our first trip.

Kiko Japanese Cuisine

Kiko Japanese Cuisine (https://www.winterspringskiko.com/) is an unassuming little Japanese restaurant next door to our friendly neighborhood Publix in the Willa Springs Village shopping center, on the corner of Red Bug Lake Road and Tuskawilla Road in Winter Springs.  So many similar shopping plazas have little sushi restaurants like this.  Since I moved to Orlando 20 years ago, there have been two that came and went in this exact location: Nagoya, and more recently, Kabuto Sushi & Grill, which I actually liked a lot, but it closed near the end of 2022.  The locals may appreciate these restaurants, but they weren’t considered sushi destinations.  Nobody was driving to our neighborhood from the cooler, hipper ends of Orlando.  Nobody drives to Winter Springs for anything if they can help it.

But they’re missing out, let me tell you.  My wife and I were blown away by how great Kiko was after our first visit to the restaurant, and we liked it just as much after bringing home takeout even more recently.  This is a place that seems to have a devoted local following, but it should be a lot more popular and beloved than it already is.

We definitely overordered on our first visit, which included this insane sushi sashimi combo “for one,” in addition to all these other beautiful rolls.  We didn’t expect the combo for one to come on this attention-catching wooden boat, or to be as pretty as it was.  I’ve eaten a lot of mid sushi around this city, but every piece of sashimi and every sliced roll at Kiko was crafted with love, care, attention to detail, and the freshest possible ingredients.  The combo comes with ten pieces of sashimi, four pieces of sushi, and one “crazy” California roll. 

My wife is bigger on sashimi than I am.  She worries about carbs, and I never do, even though I should.  Here are the ten pieces of sashimi she got in the combo, serve on a bed of finely crushed ice concealing a pretty turquoise LED light.  Aside from salmon at 12:00 and tuna at 3:00, I’m not sure what the other two kinds of fish were.

Here were the four gorgeous pieces of nigiri sushi that came with her combo, delicate slices of fresh fish served over rice.  The top two are salmon and tuna, obviously, and the bottom one was topped with wonderful ikura, salty salmon roe that pop in your mouth.

This was the “crazy” California roll, topped with spicy surimi krab, in addition to the krab, avocado, and slivered cucumber inside.  I’m a sucker for surimi and anything spicy, so I enjoyed this, even though I never order California rolls.  

Since we figured that combo “for one” would be just for my wife, I ordered some rolls for myself, keeping in mind things she might like too.  This was the mango tango roll, with tempura fried shrimp, cream cheese, and cucumber inside, topped with paper-thin sliced mango, mango sauce, and eel sauce.  I know, it isn’t authentically Japanese at all, but it sure was delicious.  The tempura shrimp was fried to perfection, and the sweet-tart mango, warm and crispy shrimp, and cool, creamy, refreshing cream cheese fit perfectly together. 

This was a double-spicy roll, with spicy tuna and spicy salmon, deep-fried and topped with eel sauce and spicy mayo.  I love crunchy stuff in my rolls, but I didn’t pay close enough attention when ordering to realize the entire roll would be deep-fried.  It was tasty, but I feel like that throws off the delicate texture of the raw fish, and then it isn’t even raw anymore.  And oh baby, I like it raw.

On the plate below, this is a smoked salmon roll on the left, with smoked salmon, cream cheese, and cucumber, a favorite of your cream cheese and lox-loving Jewish author.  The one in the middle is the Sunset Blvd roll, named for one of Los Angeles’ most infamous streets (and Billy Wilder’s brilliant 1950 film noir that is my dude David Lynch’s favorite movie).  It contains spicy yellowtail, salmon, and crunchy tempura flakes and is topped with spicy tuna, avocado, plum sauce, and tobiko (flying fish roe, which is the rich red color).On the right is the glamorous Hollywood roll, with tempura soft shell crab and mango inside, topped with a layer of spicy tuna, avocado, and scallions, then finished off with masago (the orange smelt roe), eel sauce, and spicy mayo.  Crunchy, spicy, creamy — this roll had everything.

The Sunset Boulevard and Hollywood rolls were my favorites, but everything was awesome, even the deep-fried double-spicy roll.  That was the only one I wouldn’t order again, but we were both blown away by how amazing everything was.  We didn’t set out to overorder or indulge like this, but we also had no idea Kiko would be this good.  A random weekend lunch turned out to be a huge treat and a feast for all five senses, and we ended up with plenty of leftovers for later.

I returned a few weeks later to bring home some takeout.  We didn’t go as buck wild this time, but we still had fun.  This time my wife ordered the smaller sashimi dish, which included tuna, salmon, tako (octopus), tamago (egg, essentially like firm slices of an omelet), and a fish with firm white flesh that I didn’t try and she couldn’t readily identify.

I ordeered myself an appetizer called the spicy tuna twister, not knowing what it included or involved, but figuring I couldn’t go wrong.  When I got home, I was surprised to see two pretty little clusters of spicy tuna in almost a paste-like form, surrounded by beautiful spirals of thin-sliced avocado.  But what were they surrounded with?  These were tempura-fried onion petals, almost like pieces of a Bloomin’ Onion, only not as heavily seasoned, and a hell of a lot less greasy.  Long-time readers, the stalwart Saboscrivnerinos, know I’m an onion ring aficionado, but I never expected this!  They were fried to perfection (I know, I know, but they were!), and paired perfectly with the ramekin of spicy mayo for dipping.  These aren’t onion rings if you stick to the literal definition, but since they were a pleasant surprise of breaded, fried onions, I still give them one of my Ring the Alarm! shout-outs.   

This time, I tried the salmon skin roll (on the left), because salmon skin is so savory and crispy and awesome, and the spicy yellowtail roll (on the right), because I don’t eat enough yellowtail (also known as hamachi or Japanese amberjack), but I always love it whenever I do.  These rolls were slightly less ornate and ostentatious than the ones I got on my first trip to Kiko, but I liked them just as much, and I was able to focus on their core ingredients more.

We also got that mango tango roll again, because YOU KNOW WE HAD TO DO IT TO ‘EM!  This time, enjoying our Kiko feast at home, it was just as inauthentic, but just as good.

I am thrilled that Kiko Japanese Cuisine opened in 2023, so close to our home.  I’m sure pretty much anyone reading this who likes sushi already has their own favorite sushi restaurant — possibly even one for “everyday” sushi and a more upscale locale for a splurge meal.  Well, I hope I have convinced some people to give Kiko a try.  It is a great place for an “everyday” sushi restaurant, and easily good enough (and affordable enough compared to some of Orlando’s Michelin-affiliated darlings) that you can splurge there too.  I’m going to keep returning, and I hope to run into some readers there as I become a regular.

 

Cutting the Mustard III: Mustardy Agreement

Here we are again on Memorial Day weekend, a time to honor heroic fallen soldiers, when people often gather to have cookouts with loved ones over the long holiday weekend.  For Memorial Day in 2021 and 2022, I dropped my first two Cutting the Mustard features, when I reviewed a whole bunch of different mustards just in time for a lot of Americans to gorge on hot dogs and burgers, hopefully to give my dozens of readers some ideas to reach beyond the plain yellow stuff.

For my first Cutting the Mustard, I reviewed seven different mustards, and for my second mustardy mega-review, Cutting the Mustard II: The Quest for More Mustard, I reviewed ten mustards.  I didn’t get around to writing one of these last year, but I’ve tried a lot of mustards over the past two years, so now I’m reviewing and recommending more mustards than anyone ever thought possible… not that anyone has ever given these a thought anyway.

I always challenge myself to try each mustard with multiple applications — on sandwiches, burgers, and dogs, in dressings and marinades, and as a dip for fries, Gabila’s potato knishes, and Deutsche Kuche (pronounced “douche cooch”) soft pretzels from Aldi.  Certain mustards excel for certain uses, and it is rare to find a perfect all-purpose mustard.  But just like with root beers, chili, pasta salads, onion rings, pimento cheese, Italian subs, and tinned sardines (which I review in my ‘Dines List features), each brand, flavor, and style of mustard is a little different, and I find them all worth sampling and reviewing.

Here are just a few of the contenders, so let’s see which of these tangy condiments reach or surpass the desired standard or performance, or in other words, which ones cut the mustard! 

I found Bookbinder’s stone ground dijon mustard at Publix quite a while ago, although I haven’t seen it there in quite a while.  I admit to not being the biggest dijon fan in the world, but this was a lot more mellow and less spicy than the industry standard (especially in the hip hop community), Grey Poupon.  The main thing I do with dijon mustard is rub it on lamb chops before roasting them in the oven until they turn rare.  Bookbinder’s worked fine for this purpose.   

Publix seems to have stopped carrying the Mister Mustard brand too, but I picked up a jar of the hot kind while I could.  It definitely brought the heat.  Here I used it with a takeout Waffle House All-Star Special with eggs over hard, sausage, hash browns covered with melted American cheese, and white toast.  I love mustard on eggs, and I’m always willing to risk bringing home breakfast so I can apply mustards from my own collection. 

I have already proven my deep, undying, unironic love for Waffle House, so here’s another All-Star takeout breakfast (hopefully from a photo taken months apart), this time with Zatarain’s Creole mustard spread on the toast.  This was a terrific mustard, also found at Publix.  It was a lot like a typical spicy brown deli-style mustard (which is typically my favorite kind of mustard), with maybe a bit more “zing.” 

I make pretty epic breakfast sandwiches at home, and here is Braswell’s chipotle mustard on one of them.  I treat my breakfast sandwiches like grilled cheese sandwiches — I spread Duke’s mayo on the outside of the bread and then grill them in a hot pan, but I actually add an entire HEAD of chopped garlic directly to the mayo jar, so it always has garlicky flavor and a bit of texture too.  This particular sandwich looks like it had eggs, American cheese, sautéed onions, sliced tomato, and some of the tangy, smoky chipotle mustard, which I liked a lot.  It had a little bit of heat, but not a lot.  I love spicy food that has flavor, but I don’t like overpowering, sadistic heat that overwhelms and destroys other flavors.  This was a nice one, and I think I got it when it was on sale at Publix.

I tried these three mustards together for a taste test with one of the aforementioned Gabila’s knishes, which you can buy frozen at Publix and Winn-Dixie stores.  While some delis and bagel shops serve fresh-baked potato knishes, I like the onion-heavy, fried style from Gabila’s that some restaurants proudly serve for their consistency, taste, and unique shape.  The Publix Deli-Style mustard with horseradish is a real winner — a standard deli mustard that is cheap, but never disappoints.  Great on almost any kind of sandwich, hot dogs, and knishes, you just can’t go wrong.  I even like it more than Gulden’s spicy brown mustard!I picked up the Cracovia extra hot mustard at International Food Club, a sprawling, warehouse-like market that features a staggering selection of foods from all over the world, with a special focus on Europe and the Middle East.  It’s a fun and fascinating place to shop, and I always come home with a few new impulse buys.  Cracovia, a Polish brand, is one of the hotter mustards I’ve sampled, but I like it more than some of the others (like the hot Mister Mustard, for example).  I like it paired with ham, where the heat balances out the sweetness inherent in the cured meat.  It is like a slightly thicker yellow mustard with tiny flecks of green and red, but it lacks the overwhelming brightness so many everyday yellow mustards feature.

Finally, the Braswell’s Vidalia onion mustard sounded good, but I found it a bit too sweet and also kind of watery.  You can tell there was a lot of real, finely grated sweet onion in the mix, which I appreciate, and I love onions.  In fact, I buy sweet onions for almost all my cooking, even when recipes call for white, yellow, or red instead.  But this mustard lacked any savory bite and was just disappointingly sweet.

In my first Cutting the Mustard feature, I reviewed Sir Kensington’s Dijon mustard.  Since then, I really got into Sir Kensington’s spicy brown, which I like a lot more than the Dijon.  It has a mellow sweetness from maple syrup and cane sugar, but isn’t cloyingly sweet like a lot of other mustards I’ve tried here.

I swiped some onto a corned beef sandwich I made on what looks like a green chile bagel from Einstein Bros. Bagels.  It isn’t the best bagel shop and certainly not the most authentic, but I really love the green chile bagels just the same.  They are more like rolls than bagels.  With all the rich, salty ingredients, the slight sweetness of the maple-infused spicy brown Sir Kensington’s really brightened up this decadent sandwich. 

There is a time and a place for sweet mustards that incorporate honey or maple syrup, and honey mustard can be a wonderful salad dressing.  (The house salad with honey mustard is one of the only things I like at Outback Steakhouse, along with the Bloomin’ Onion and brown bread.)  But too many mustard companies take the sweetness way too far.

My best friend sent me a dazzling, delightful birthday present — a sampler of six Wisconsin-made mustards from the National Mustard Museum in Middleton, Wisconsin (a real place).  Most of them were awesome, but the thick, syrupy Bucky Badger honey mustard pretzel dip on the left was just too sweet for me, even spread on a soft pretzel.  But funny thing about this one — my wife, who does not share my mustard obsession, loves this one!  Maybe because it tastes like a dessert.

The Wisconsin gift set from the National Mustard Museum also included a Sprecher root beer mustard that was sweet, but not too sweet, with the delicious herbal flavors I love so much in root beer.  Unlike the Bucky Badger honey mustard dip, it was terrific on this pretzel.  However, I liked the root beer mustard best on roast beef sandwiches, and when I treat myself to roast beef, I get the Dietz & Watson London broil top round roast beef from the Winn-Dixie deli.  It is always really rare, with terrific seasoning.  I never roast my own beef, but maybe I should, so I can put more mustard on it.

I opened a bottle of Hickory Farms honey pineapple mustard to go with this roast beef sandwich, but it was also way too sweet, and yet it didn’t taste like pineapple at all.  However, the biggest surprise was that a Hickory Farms store still existed in 2022, even though it was seasonal like Spirit Halloween!

Terrapin Ridge Farms is a company based in Clearwater, Florida, that makes fancy, high-end condiments, sauces, dressings, dips, and preserves.  I tried their dill pickle mustard in my first Cutting the Mustard feature and thought it was just okay.  This time I tried their smokey maple bacon mustard and thought it was way too sweet and not smokey or bacony enough.  I waited patiently for these to go on sale before trying it, but I wouldn’t get it again.

I also tried Terrapin Ridge Farms’ Nashville hot spice mustard on some toasted pita bread and a fried pita chip here.  It was spicy, but didn’t really taste like mustard at all!  I experimented with it more on chicken, since I do love Nashville-style hot chicken, and it was just okay, but not great.  We are lucky to have a pair of amazing Nashville-inspired hot chicken restaurants in Orlando: Chicken Fire and JAM Hot Chicken.  I love them both and crave them often.  I’ve even attempted to make my own Nashville hot chicken at home, but it was labor-intensive and made a mess.  That’s something I leave to the professionals now, and I would also leave the Terrapin Ridge mustards on the shelf from now on.

Here are three more mustards that I tried with Aldi pretzel sticks.  The champagne mustard came from a HoneyBaked Ham store, where I love their spiral-sliced ham and smoked turkey breast.  They sell some pricey condiments, so I gambled on this one, but unfortunately lost.  It was kind of a creamy mustard and very dill-heavy, so I could never get into it.  It probably would have been great with salmon, but as much as I love salmon both raw and cured, I never cook it or order it cooked.  Anyway, I don’t even see the champagne mustard listed on the website anymore, so maybe it never caught on. The other two mustards came in the Wisconsin gift set from the National Mustard Museum.  The one in the middle was a sweet mustard, but one I actually liked: East Shore slow-cooked cranberry mustard, also made in Wisconsin.  While it was sweet (and extremely sticky and thick), I appreciated how the tartness of the cranberries gave it an extra dimension and kept it from being cloying like the previous sweet mustards that were too sweet.

Finally, Ringhand’s beer mustard, in the squeeze bottle, was my favorite from the National Mustard Museum gift set.  Made with brown beer, this creation of Wisconsin Democratic state senator Janis Ringhand was excellent on everything, from pretzels and knishes to ham, roast beef, and turkey sandwiches, hot dogs, burgers, and more.  It was salty, a little spicy, a little tart, and one of those rare mustards with endless uses.  I loved it, especially on some good dogs.

I found this Tracklements hot horseradish mustard in a little jar at Sprouts supermarket.  A little goes a long way, and it was great for clearing my sinuses, yet still not as nose-runningly, eye-tearingly hot as typical Chinese mustard or Colman’s mustard prepared from the powder.  It also went very well with ham.

I wish I could remember which takeout establishment included a packet of Woeber’s spicy brown mustard, but it was a pleasant surprise.  Sharp-eyed Saboscrivnerinos may remember I included two other Woeber’s mustards in Cutting the Mustard II: the hot & spicy and sweet & spicy varieties.  This one was more versatile and probably more of a crowd-pleaser than either of those — different enough from Gulden’s and the Publix brand that a mustard maven would want to try it on a deli sandwich or a dog.  I see Woeber’s products for sale in Orlando at Gordon Food Service (GFS) on East Colonial Drive and Clemons Produce on Curry Ford Road. 

Just like Waffle House, I have made no secret of my ridiculous love for White Castle, and I consider that review one of the best ones I’ve ever written.  On that first-ever trip to Orlando’s White Castle, I didn’t get to try their Dusseldorf mustard, but I made sure to request some packets on a more recent return trip, where I came home with another Crave Case of cheese sliders.  I had been unfamiliar with Dusseldorf mustard, but I’d have to describe it as “spicy brown mustard without a hint of anything spicy.”  It was fine, but without the zippy spice of Gulden’s or the bright tang of a standard yellow mustard, it didn’t stand out to me as anything special.  That slider sure tasted good, though!

Not one to give up easily, I bought a bottle of this Carnegie Deli branded Dusseldorf mustard at the Brooklyn Water Bagel Company, a chain bagel shop that I rarely go to, even though it isn’t bad.  They sell Carnegie Deli pastrami, which I haven’t tried there, even though my family and I went to the legendary Carnegie Deli on our one and only family trip to New York City back in the summer of 1991 (along with the Stage Deli, Lindy’s, and Grabstein’s in Brooklyn — all gone, but not forgotten).  Several Internet altacockers have told me that now, Carnegie Deli is just one more brand name, but the products aren’t anything like they were in the real deli during its glory decades.  It’s safe to say this Dusseldorf mustard was okay, but again, it lacked the zippiness of Ba-Tampte, Boar’s Head, or even Publix’s deli mustard.  In fact, “it’s safe” is the safest thing I can say about it.   Once again, the White Castle sliders slapped, with or without mustard.

I found Gold’s deli mustard for the first time ever at Doris Italian Market, a small chain of five awesome Italian grocery stores in South Florida, on a trip down in 2022.  It was similar to Ba-Tampte — a decent all-purpose deli mustard, more yellow than brown in color — but not as good as Ba-Tampte.  Few mustards are.  But it brightened up these kraut-covered hot dogs on grilled buns, and you can’t ask for much more than that.

I also found this Sabrett brand spicy brown mustard on the same trip to Doris Italian Market.  You can buy Sabrett brand hot dogs at every Publix in the state, but I had never seen the mustard before, and I had to try it.  It was kind of like they mixed Gulden’s (the industry standard spicy brown) with a yellow mustard, and somehow toned down the spice during the processing.  You can even see from the bottle that it is more yellow than brown, and you don’t even see the granulated mustard seeds in it.   It was fine on a slider and on some hot dogs, but I was surprised Sabrett’s mustard didn’t excite or excel as well as the brand’s beloved dogs.  I preferred Gold’s to the Sabrett.

Speaking of national hot dog brands and their own mustards, my dad asked me to find him Nathan’s Famous deli style mustard, which had disappeared from stores all over Florida, and apparently elsewhere too.  I did some research and found out it still existed, but the trademark had most likely been sold to a different company.  I tracked down a company that ships it, Pop Pop Foods, but you have to buy three bottles (still not bad for $2.99 each), and then they charge a flat shipping rate of $18.  I couldn’t justify it for myself, but I sent a care package to my dad down in Miami, with three bottles of the deli style and three bottles of the spicy brown mustard.  When I visited my parents at their house last summer, I saw they had an open bottle of the Nathan’s Famous deli style mustard in the fridge, and I begged to try a little on one of these little pinwheel sandwiches.  It was really good, just as I remembered.  Definitely better than the Sabrett mustard above.  I didn’t try the spicy brown, but I’m sure that was good too.  I still can’t bear to pay $36 for six bottles of two different kinds of mustard just for myself, but if anyone else would like to go in on an order with me, just say the word.  I would just want one deli style and one spicy brown, in case any of my constant readers in Orlando would also like to get some Nathan’s Famous mustard.

I have only ever found Plochman’s Intense Cuban Style mustard at Winn-Dixie too, but it is awesome, especially as a substitute for yellow mustard on Cuban sandwiches like this homemade version (which was probably prettier when I first assembled it, but this looks like I pulled it out of the fridge).  I baked the ham and marinated and roasted the pork loin myself, but the pickles were Grillo’s and the bread was from Winn-Dixie, same as the mustard.  It had a really nice, spicy zing and some flavor from garlic and citrus.  It was really good mixed with a bit of mayo as a seafood sauce, too.  It was different from the Sam’s Choice Cuban mustard I reviewed in my first Cutting the Mustard, and I give the edge to Plochman’s.

Here are two familiar faces with a Gabila’s knish and a new contender on the left: Silver Spring whole grain mustard, part of my gift set from the National Mustard Museum (since Silver Spring is a national brand made in Wisconsin).  I usually avoid whole grain mustard with the round, crunchy mustard seeds in it, but this was the best version I’ve tried of that kind of mustard.  Usually I don’t care for a condiment crunching between my teeth like a mouthful of Nerds candy, but it had a good flavor to counterbalance that texture. 
Plochman’s chili dog yellow mustard, the third one, is brown in color rather than yellow, but that accounts for all the spices added to it.  It’s uncanny how it tastes like a chili dog with mustard already on it!  The ingredients mention dehydrated onion, paprika, and turmeric (possibly for color), as well as the mysterious “spices.”  I definitely taste heavy cumin and garlic, and I’m guessing there is some ingredient that gives it a very slight smoky flavor too.  It is also really salty, even by mustard standards.  Like the Plochman’s Intense Cuban Style mustard, I bought it at Winn-Dixie, and I’m having a hard time using up the big bottle.

I’m sure these aren’t the only new mustards I’ve tried over the past two years, but I don’t have pictures of all of them.  In my travels, I tried the hot mustard at Philippe the Original, one of the oldest restaurants in Los Angeles, which claims to be the birthplace of the French dip sandwich.  I also found Sy Ginsberg’s deli mustard on the tables at the excellent Palm Avenue Deli in Sarasota, Florida — a tasty mustard I’ve never seen for sale anywhere or at any other restaurants.

I make no secret of my love of condiments and sauces, and I’m always searching for new mustards to buy and try, since each one holds its own unique promises.  I worry I’m starting to run out of mustard I can purchase locally in the Orlando area, so if you have some good local brands I haven’t mentioned in my three Cutting the Mustard features so far, please let me know.  And if any readers want to send me some mustards to review in future installments, my journalistic integrity isn’t strong enough to make me stop you.  I hope this was informational, or at least entertaining in some weird way.  If you find yourself enjoying some burgers or hot dogs with family or friends over the remaining Memorial Day weekend, I hope you consider trying a new mustard, and I hope you’ll let me know what it was and how you liked it.  And if not, why not?  Are you YELLOW?

Corelli’s Pantry (Clermont)

Whenever I travel out of my normal radius, I always check online to see if there are any interesting restaurants or grocery stores near where I’m going.  In that lackadaisical week between Christmas and New Year’s Day, when most people don’t get anything done, I took a long-overdue drive to Clermont, a town south and west of Orlando that I never have any reason to visit, to check out a restaurant I had been meaning to try for years.  And on my way to eat a solo lunch at that restaurant (more on that some other time), I took the scenic route through quaint, picturesque downtown Clermont and discovered another restaurant, an Italian restaurant with a small deli and market attached.  Of course, I had to stop in and get some stuff to bring home with me!

This Italian restaurant/deli/market I stumbled across was Corelli’s Pantry (https://corellispantry.com/).  It is a teeny-tiny space, although the dining room in the back might be more spacious.  When you enter, you order at the counter, whether you are planning to dine in or take things to go.  I wasn’t sticking around, but I should have stuck my head into the dining room to scope it out.  Sorry.

Up front, they had your typical glass deli cases full of cured meats and cheeses to slice and sell by the pound, some ready-made sandwiches and other prepared foods, and lots of Italian bread, cookies, and other baked goods.

I wasn’t in the market (no pun intended) for anything sweet, especially with the recent addition of D’Amico & Sons Italian Market & Bakery so close to home, but things definitely looked good here.  There were also some arancini (rice balls) in this particular refrigerated case.

Corelli’s Pantry serves pizza by the slice, which is my favorite way to order and eat pizza.  I had to get a slice to eat on the premises, which is the ideal way to gauge a pizzeria.  Don’t bring up that other Jewish guy who rants, raves, and rates slices of pizza — I’m aware, and I am not a fan.   But from my first taste, I definitely became fan of Corelli’s New York-style pizza.  This was a damn near perfect slice that I enjoyed back in the car: HUGE (the odd angle of this photo definitely doesn’t do its size justice), thin and crispy, not floppy, robust sauce, nice melty cheese, not dripping with orange oil, crust was neither too doughy nor too dry.  If I don’t mind eating the plain crust at the end, I consider it a very good slice, and this one was.

They also had half of a muffuletta sandwich in the display case, already assembled, with the ingredients all mingling and marinating.  I had not had a muffuletta anywhere in years, so I brought that home with me, planning to cut it in half and get two sandwiches out of it.  The wide, round, flat loaf of bread wasn’t as good as the legendary, flawless muffuletta served at Central Grocery in New Orleans, but I haven’t been there since 2001, and beggars can’t be choosers.  The bread was drier and more crumbly, but it held up well against the multiple layers of Genoa salami, ham, provolone cheese, and olive salad (made from some combination of green and black olives, carrots, celery, onions, roasted red peppers, herbs, spices, red wine vinegar, and olive oil).  I am not always the biggest fan of olives, but this Sicilian-inspired relish is what makes the muffuletta special and sets it apart from other Italian sandwiches.  You can also buy jars of it, including from Central Grocery itself, but it isn’t that hard to make at home.

Here’s a dynamic view of a quarter of that marvelous, mouthwatering muff.  It really hit the spot. 

I also ordered an Italian combination sub with ham, salami, capicola and provolone, topped “David’s way,” with house dressing, shredded lettuce, tomato and thin-sliced red onion, plus I asked for balsamic vinegar and hot cherry peppers.  I stuck it in a cooler I brought with me and enjoyed it hours later, after it had a chance to chill out in the fridge back at home.

The roll was great quality — most likely baked in-house at Corelli’s Pantry, but I did not confirm that.  They stuffed the sub generously with high-quality ingredients, just like that muffuletta.  It was a tremendously good (and just plain tremendous) Italian sub — one of the better ones I’ve enjoyed anywhere in Florida.  It was up there with the namesake Stasio sub from Stasio’s and the Capone from Bad As’s Sandwich, two all-time favorites.

With Stasio’s in Orlando’s Milk District, D’Amico & Sons in Oviedo, and Tornatore’s Italian market next door to its College Park restaurant (where you can also get a very nice Italian sub), I don’t know when I’ll ever make it back to Clermont to visit Corelli’s Pantry again, since it was over an hour away from home.  But I’m so glad I discovered it, almost accidentally, and even happier that I stopped there and tried so many things.  Nothing disappointed.  Everything exceeded my expectations.  If you are anywhere near downtown Clermont, or even if you aren’t, please stop there for a slice, a sandwich, or maybe even take a load off and enjoy some Italian food in the dining room, and then let me know how that was.

Sherry’s Trini Flavors

Sherry’s Trini Flavors (https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100090751170325) is a wonderful Trinidadian restaurant set up inside a gas station convenience store at 1200 West State Road 436, Altamonte Springs, FL 32714, shortly before Altamonte Springs blends into Apopka to the west.  It is closed Sundays and Mondays, but open every other day from 11 AM until 7 PM.  As you can guess, Sherry’s Trini Flavors is primarily a takeout operation.  The menu is simple, you order at the counter, and they prepare your food to enjoy somewhere else — somewhere you can sit down to fully appreciate its savory flavors.

I appreciate that Sherry’s is a lot closer to home for me than the venerable Singh’s Roti Shop and Caribbean Shack (formerly known as Vindi’s), all the way out in Pine Hills in West Orlando.  I have been there twice now, and I think the food is just as good as those two popular restaurants, and probably even better, despite the smaller menu at Sherry’s.  Singh’s has all those Trinidadian Chinese specialties, and both Singh’s and Caribbean Shack serve oxtails, which I am sad to say Sherry’s does not.  I thought I might have missed oxtails on my first visit last year, but they are not on the menu, and I confirmed on my latest visit this past weekend that they don’t serve them at all.  But as much as I love those tender, unctuous cuts, Sherry’s Trini Flavors offers plenty of other delicacies, including other rich, savory, bone-in stewed meats.

On my first visit, I ordered the stew chicken dinner that came with fried rice (not rice and peas) and delicious, savory, occasionally stewed chickpeas called channa (a name that reminds me of a really cute girl I had a crush on until she went to Birthright and came home obsessed with the IDF soldier she hooked up with over there).  The stew chicken isn’t as sweet and tangy as Jamaican-style “brown stew” chicken, which usually seems to involve ketchup.  Still, the mostly dark meat is seasoned and stewed to perfection, literally falling off the bones.  If you like chicken but have never tried Trinidadian stew chicken, your life won’t be complete until you do, and this would be a perfect place to start.

On my more recent visit, I couldn’t help ordering stew chicken again!  This time I got the roti option that comes with potatoes, channa, and one of two types of roti, which I will talk about soon, rather than the “dinner” that comes with rice.  The chicken was even better than I remembered.  No regrets here.

On my first visit, this was curry duck, which was much spicier than the stew chicken, but not as spicy as you might be worried about.  Apologies for not scooping out a few chunks of tender, rich, bone-in duck meat, but the containers all leaked a bit, and it was a mess at the time.  The meat was easily falling off the bones.

And this was my favorite meat I’ve tried at Sherry’s so far, which I got on my most recent visit: curry lamb.  Goat is much more popular in Caribbean cooking, but my wife really, really adores baby goats, so the least I could do is not bring that meat home to eat in front of her.  Since we have both frolicked with super-cute baby goats in the pasture at Orlando’s Wildflower Farm, I don’t eat goat meat anymore.  But I’ve never met a lamb, so I have no such compunction about eating those guys, possibly my favorite protein of all.  This was tender, braised meat, very easy to separate from the bones, and seasoned to perfection.  It was served with more potatoes and channa. This savory stewed curry lamb was so incredible, I didn’t even miss oxtails.

When you order these proteins as roti, they come with stewed potatoes instead of rice, channa, and your choice of two warm flatbreads that are served folded up like a hot towel, but can be unfolded to be about the size of a large, round towel.  These are the roti, and if you love tortillas, pita bread, Turkish lavas bread, Indian naan, or Malaysian parathas, you absolutely have to try the roti here.  They are very different from other roti I’ve had, which are flakier like parathas (the love child of a flour tortilla and a buttery croissant).  These are big, billowy blankets meant to tear off pieces and dip or scoop them in the rich sauces or create little wraps with the meats and channa.

The yellow-tinted roti is called the dhal puri or daal puri, which is stuffed with tiny granules of ground yellow split peas.  If you’re anything like me, you might create a dust storm of split pea bits all over the table when you tear off a hunk of the dhal puri, even if you’ve had it before.  It is really good, but believe it or not, there’s another roti I like even more.

This roti edges out the dhal puri for me, and it is the only one my wife likes.  Sorry, loves.  And she doesn’t even share my obsession with Trinidadian food!  It has the delightful name of the “bussup” or or sometimes “buss up shut,” Caribbean slang for a tattered, torn, or “busted up” shirt.  It is thicker than a flour tortilla and chewier than most pita bread.  Greasier, too.  But it is soooo good whether you choose to dip, scoop, or wrap with it.   

This was one of the doubles I got on my first visit, served on a plate so I could enjoy it fresh on the premises.  Doubles are a beloved street food from the islands of Trinidad and Tobago, and one of the most delicious vegetarian foods I can think of.  It is made of two small, chewy, fried flatbreads with channa in between them.  The green stuff you see is a spicy condiment that I just loved, giving these doubles the edge over the ones I’ve tried from Singh’s and Caribbean Shack.  I ordered even more doubles to bring home on both of my visits.  They are somewhat messy to eat (both drippy and greasy), but awesome. 
On my most recent visit, I brought home four doubles and wolfed down two of them while they were still warm.  The others heated up just fine in the mick-row-wah-vey.  You can add any of the proteins to your doubles as an upcharge, but I kinda like them as their own thing.

On my first visit, I also tried the macaroni pie, which is essentially a baked macaroni and cheese casserole with long ziti-like noodles, served in slices.   I’ve had somewhat dry, slightly overcooked macaroni pie elsewhere, but this one had the meltiest, cheesiest texture, and I loved it. 

So after trying this kind of food at three different local restaurants, I absolutely love it and recommend it to all.  Even if it is completely unfamiliar to you, the closest comparison I can make is Jamaican food, followed by Indian food, but Trinidadian is very much its own thing.  I am so glad Sherry’s Trini Flavors exists, and it is a heck of a lot closer to me than the other restaurants in Pine Hills.  I will be returning much more often to treat myself and slowly work my way through the menu.  While Sherry’s menu does not offer as many different dishes as Singh’s or Caribbean Shack, the standards I’ve tried are all top-notch, clearly made with love and care in a tiny operation, hidden away from most, that deserves to be discovered and loved.

The Moderne

I guess I haven’t published a new review in about a month, since work has been keeping me so busy.  Working from home, I also haven’t been able to go out to eat quite as often, which means I’m cooking more and saving money (yet not losing any weight).  But this review is long overdue, from a date night about a month ago at one of the prettiest, swankiest, sexiest restaurant/bar/lounges in Orlando, The Moderne (https://www.themodernebar.com/) in the foodie dream district of Mills 50.  I’m sure a lot of my regular readers have already been here, but this was our first visit to The Moderne.  I had been wanting to try it for a while, since it features an eclectic menu of small plates — mostly pan-Asian dishes, but some include other international influences, ranging from Italian to Peruvian.

This was my wife’s beautiful mojito mocktail, served with a dehydrated lime slice as a garnish.  I tried a sip, and it was delicious.  The Moderne features an enticing cocktail menu, but we were both happy to see a few mocktail options for non-drinkers like us.  I guess you could call this one a “no”-jito.   My wife reminded me to mention that she first asked for a simple Shirley Temple, but the gorgeous, well-stocked bar did not have any grenadine syrup, something we both thought was odd at the time.

Our order of duck wontons came out first.  These hand-folded wonton wrappers were stuffed with shredded duck seasoned with Chinese five-spice powder and fried until crispy.  They were served with chili oil peanut sauce.  We both wished they had been served with more duck inside, even though they tasted good and were surprisingly not that oily.

This beautiful dish was the tuna kobachi, with spicy cubed tuna, avocado, Japanese-style marinated cucumbers, scallion, red tobiko, micro cilantro, and a dish of ponzu sauce for dippin’ and dunkin’.  I loved it so much.  I could eat this every day of my life and never get tired of it, although I’d hate to think of what my mercury levels would be.  It was my favorite dish that we tried, a perfect 10/10. 

Next came our chashu quesadillas, which were plated beautifully.  Quesadillas are the easiest thing to make at home, but my homemade ones never feature chashu pork, (like the kind of pork you get in a bowl of “real” (not instant) ramen), shredded cheddar and mozzarella cheeses, Japanese Kewpie mayo, chili amarillo sauce, and pickled onions.  Well, mine would have the cheeses and Barbie Dream House-pink pickled onions, but that’s where the similarities begin and end.

This was another hit with both of us: yellowtail (hamachi) ceviche, with cubes of cool, refreshing yellowtail in mango wasabi lime sauce, diced onion, serrano, red tobiko, micro cilantro, all encased in perfectly thin, crispy, delicate spheres of pani puri, the Indian street food classic (see my Bombay Street Kitchen review for authentic pani puri).  It was a gorgeous fusion experience that dazzled all of our senses.

My wife chose these miso cream noodles, which sounded like something she would love.  The dish featured thin pasta (like angel hair or vermicelli), that chashu pork again, mushrooms, miso, fried garlic, toasted bread crumbs, parmesan cheese, and scallions.  She admitted not really being into it and said it was both very rich and on the bland side — an interesting dichotomy, kind of like fettuccine alfredo from the Olive Garden (although this definitely had more flavor than that)!  She picked at it and brought most of it home, where I happily finished it after picking the mushrooms out.  I’m a pretty tolerant guy, but I have this unfortunate intolerance to mushrooms, and chefs freakin’ love throwing them into things.

I chose a different noodle dish for myself that seemed like another fragrant fusion feast: seafood pappardelle, with pappardelle pasta (wide, flat noodles that are wider than fettuccine), shrimp, tamarind Nikkei sauce (Nikkei being a Peruvian-Japanese fusion due to all the Japanese immigrants in Peru), carrots, red peppers, onions, peanuts, and a cilantro-heavy “Asian herb salad.”  It was okay.  The sauce was a little sweet and tangy, not as spicy as I had hoped, and very thin.  I thought it was odd that the dish was called “seafood pappardelle” when the only seafood in it was shrimp.  This was a last-minute choice when the server was already taking our orders, but I think I would have enjoyed one of the other noodle dishes more.  Oh well, you live and you learn!

So that was our first experience at The Moderne.  I liked it and would go back, but my wife admitted it was not one of her favorite restaurants.  Oh well, people have different tastes and like different things — that is no surprise.  My favorites were the two dishes with raw fish, which is usually one of my favorite things to eat.  (This also explains why The Moderne’s neighbor a few doors down, Poke Hana, remains one of my favorite restaurants in all of Orlando all these years later.)  I might get those again, or other raw fish options, and I would definitely try a different noodle dish on a second visit.  Plus, after dinner at The Moderne, you can go next door and have some of Orlando’s finest ice cream at Sampaguita, which is exactly what we did on this date night!