Chain Reactions: Vicky Bakery

Vicky Bakery (https://vickybakery.com/) is a beloved Cuban bakery chain with 26 locations (and a food truck), mostly throughout South Florida.  Despite growing up in Miami, I never visited Vicky until they opened a location in south Orlando last year!  (My family would always go to Latin American Cafeteria, right by our house in Kendall, or the superior La Carreta instead.)

But Vicky Bakery is a great addition to Orlando, a city with lots of good Latin food and amazing bakeries, but lacking in the wonderful Cuban cuisine that is so ubiquitous in and around Miami.  I have been three times now, only because it is pretty far from me — all the way down near Orlando International Airport.  If it was closer, I guarantee I would go a lot more often, so maybe I’m better off.  But after three visits, I figured it was time to write a review, because I love it.

Like most good bakeries, when you walk into the Orlando location of Vicky Bakery, you are face to face with tempting baked goods arranged in glass display cases.  This case of croquetas, empanadas, and pastelitos is right next to the cash register, facing the entrance:

There are other cases with more sweet stuff elsewhere:

On my first visit, I ordered buttered Cuban toast, a croqueta de jamon (ham croqueta), empanada de carne (beef empanada), a pastel de carne (beef pastel), two pasteles de queso (cheese pasteles), and a pizza pastel (take a wild guess).

Everything was very good, but the combination of savory and sweet in the beef and pizza pasteles, with their light, flaky, crispy layered pastry crusts and shiny tops glazed with sugar put those over the top for me.

I also ordered the medianoche (“midnight sandwich”), a variation on the classic pressed Cuban sandwich with roast pork, sweet ham, Swiss cheese, pickles, and yellow mustard.  I like the medianoche even better, because it is served on a slightly sweet yellow bread rather than the traditional Cuban bread.  My mom introduced me to these when I was very young, and it probably launched my love of savory-sweet food combinations.  I have to say, with no exaggeration, that it was the best medianoche I’ve ever had.  Everything came together perfectly.  Some Cuban sandwiches are too dry — usually the fault of dry pork that was cooked too long or not juicy enough to begin with, or stale bread — but this one didn’t have me wishing for a “sandwich lubricant.”

I also tried the Vicky sandwich, with thin-sliced cantimpalo sausage (similar to pepperoni or spicy salami), sweet ham, Swiss cheese, and butter on a French baguette — a more continental sandwich.

On my second visit, I got the pan con bistec (steak sandwich), which is steak (usually top round or sirloin) sliced very thin, with sautéed onions onions, shredded lettuce, sliced tomatoes, mayonnaise, and crunchy, salty potato sticks on Cuban bread pressed until it had a crackly texture.  It was good, but I usually find this sandwich a bit lacking, like it needs more of a hit of acid than just the tomato to balance out the salt and fat.

You can see there wasn’t a whole lot of steak either.  ¿DONDE ESTA LA CARNE?  (Where’s the beef?)  Unfortunately, it couldn’t measure up to the best pan con bistec I’ve ever had, from Sanguich de Miami.

I also got the croqueta preparada, a traditional Cuban sandwich (like the medianoche, but on pressed Cuban bread instead of the sweet yellow bread) only with a twist: six croquetas pressed into it — three in each half!  Vicky serves croquetas de jamon (ham) and croquetas de pollo (chicken), and they let me try both.  If you think Cuban sandwiches are awesome (and they are!), try a croqueta preparada next time.  It really brings a rich, decadent sandwich to a whole other level.  Sanguich de Miami also served the best croqueta preparada I’ve ever had, but the one from Vicky Bakery is the best I’ve tried in Orlando.

Don’t forget to sign up for e-mails from Vicky Bakery, because they mailed me a birthday coupon for $7 off any order, and unlike some restaurants, there was an almost three-month window to use it.  On my third visit, I felt like some kind of player, a big timer playing with the house’s money, knowing I could get a $7 discount.  Mr. 305’s got nothing on me!

I couldn’t resist the pizza pastel again, and it was just as good as always.

I figured I should probably try a cafe con leche, to make this review more complete.  (Don’t worry about the photo, which was just a red cup with the Vicky Bakery logo on it.)  It was absolutely delicious — strong and sweet, like I like my women — but I just can’t drink coffee anymore.  Every time I do, I get acid reflux and the unpleasant feeling of my heart wanting to jackhammer its way out through my rib cage and fly around the room like some mad bird.  And worst of all, both awful sensations hit me hours after drinking the coffee.  I don’t even get a temporary energy boost at the time, just intense physical discomfort late in the evening.  This was a small, and it still made me feel like I was going to discorporate into individual atoms.  Not worth it for me, but for all of you coffee drinkers, you’ll really like it.

And then I tried the last sandwich I was really interested in, the pan con lechon, with finely chopped pork marinated in citrusy, garlicky mojo criollo, served on the same terrific pressed Cuban bread with a lot of sautéed onions.  I loved it.  Sometimes pan con lechon sandwiches are a bit dry and/or flavorless, but Vicky nailed this one.  I liked it a lot more than the pan con bistec from my previous visit.

Over a year ago, there was a rumor that a second Orlando-area Vicky Bakery was going to open in Winter Park, near the intersection of 17-92 and Lee Road, which would have been a heck of a lot more convenient for me.  At some point, that fell through, so I figured I had better get down to the one and only location sooner rather than later.  I’m sorry I waited so long, because it was fantastic, and my second and third visits were equally good.

It is probably just as well for me that it is a schlep, because I don’t need to be eating this food too often.  But when I’m in the mood for Cuban pastries and sandwiches, I drive past several Cuban and other Latin bakeries in order to get to Vicky Bakery, because it really is that damn good.  Miami was a strange place to grow up, and I always felt like a stranger at home there, but the Cuban food can’t be beat.  I’m glad we have an authentic taste of home available in Orlando, even if it feels like a mission getting down there.

RusTeak

RusTeak (https://www.rusteakthorntonpark.com/) is a nice little “gastropub”-style restaurant in Thornton Park, near downtown Orlando.  My biggest gripes about all of Orlando’s “Park” neighborhoods (Thornton, College, Baldwin, Audubon, and Winter) is that there is rarely any parking to be found.  But luckily, RusTeak is right next door to a convenient parking garage, and that makes it a perfect choice for dinner out before attending a show at The Abbey, a small concert venue directly across the street, or heading out elsewhere for downtown events.  My wife and I almost never go downtown unless we’re heading to a concert, so we tried RusTeak for the first time back in April, on our way to a show at The Abbey.  I’m really glad we did.

RusTeak serves a salmon BLT sandwich, but you can substitute the catch of the day fish on the BLT for a $3 upcharge.  When we went on an early Thursday evening, swordfish was the catch of the day, and my wife is a mighty big fan of swordfish.  She ended up ordering the BLT, which came with grilled swordfish, Applewood smoked bacon, baby arugula, a tomato  slice, and lemon Dijon aioli on a toasted brioche bun.

Needless to say, that’s a very nontraditional BLT, but she loved the swordfish, shared the bacon with me, and left the bun and tomato behind, as she often does with sandwiches and burgers.  (Me being me, I took the bun and tomato home to make a sandwich the following day with some chicken I had just cooked.)   You can choose a side with all the sandwiches at RusTeak, and she went with house-made potato chips.  They were pretty simple — crunchy, with just salt, but no weird or wacky seasonings or dips.

I was having trouble deciding what to order, but my wife was facing a chalkboard with daily specials written on it, and she drew my attention to the board.  I was facing the other way and would have missed it completely.  I don’t even think I was going to get a burger, but one of the Thursday specials was a bacon jam burger served with crispy fried onions and a thick tomato slice on a pretzel bun.  The board said that burger was only $7, so I thought my eyes were deceiving me, but our patient server confirmed the price was right.  It didn’t come with a side for that price, but I figured my wife would toss a chip or two my way, so I was sold!  You can barely get a burger at McDonald’s for $7 anymore, and most gastropubby restaurants in the RusTeak vein would probably charge closer to $20 for a burger of this caliber.
And that $7 burger would have been a bargain at twice the price, I tell you.  It was a thick, juicy patty (no smash-style burgers here), cooked to a perfect medium rare, as I requested.  The photo makes it look ridiculously tall, but the pretzel bun was soft and nicely grilled, and it squished down as I held it firmly.  I was able to take nice bites out of that thing with minimal mess, and it was delicious.  The sweet, salty, smoky, stickiness of the bacon jam worked well with the juicy beef, crunchy and salty fried onions, and the hearty bun held up as well as anyone could hope for.  That’s a real deal, my friends — not just a tasty burger, but a legit bargain at a restaurant where you might not expect any sort of specials like that.

I have reviewed The Stubborn Mule before, another Thornton Park restaurant literally next door to The Abbey and facing RusTeak, and I believe the two restaurants share the same owners.  I should note that I also ordered a burger at The Stubborn Mule when we went there, and while it was bigger, I thought RusTeak’s burger was much better.

Since our concert at The Abbey (a musical stand-up comedy performance by the multi-talented Fred Armisen) was right across the street, we had plenty of time for a leisurely dessert to make my wife happy.  She was drawn to the pistachio bread pudding, topped with vanilla ice cream and a white chocolate drizzle.  It was HUGE!  Bread pudding is kind of like beets — something I never ordered or ate for too many years growing up, only to find out as an adult how awesome it could be.  I’m not the biggest pistachio eater (honestly, I could take or leave nuts in general), but my wife loves them.
The bread pudding was rich, thick, and buttery, and the portion was gigantic.  Even if we didn’t have a concert to get to, the two of us could not have finished it, so she killed the scoop of ice cream and we boxed up about two-thirds of the bread pudding to go.  I would definitely recommend it.

I can’t believe we had never made it to RusTeak before, but like I said, we rarely venture into Thornton Park or downtown Orlando in general.  The only reason I haven’t raced back is because it’s just out of our general radius (especially now that I work from home, further from downtown and all the “Parks”), although I wish it wasn’t.  Whenever I do make it back, I’d love to try the Calabrian mussels, maple bacon brussels sprouts, and cauliflower pancetta casserole.  Oh yeah, and the house-made ricotta with spinach-almond pesto, candied cherry tomato jam, and naan bread (that’s all one thing!).  I’d also be really intrigued by whichever burgers are future Thursday specials, since the one I tried was so good.  If you’re a fan of Winter Park’s venerable Ravenous Pig, maybe the first hip gastropub to open in the Orlando area back in 2007, you would love this place.

But especially if you’re going to a show at The Abbey, you can’t beat RusTeak for convenience, especially if you park in the Air Garage right next door, on Pine Street.  By the way, parking was only $10, which also seems like a bargain for anything near downtown, and you pay with your smartphone.  I have no idea what non-smartphone-havers like my parents or brother would do, but they wouldn’t be going to a fun dinner out followed by a concert near a major urban downtown area anyway.

Bob’s Big Boy (Los Angeles)

Bob’s Big Boy (https://bobs.net/) is a legendary diner in Burbank, California, a Los Angeles suburb near the Warner Brothers and Disney studios.  First opened in 1949, Bob’s Big Boy is an iconic building designed by architect Wayne McAllister in the retro-futuristic “Googie” style that is virtually unknown here in Florida, but so popular in mid-20th Century L.A. diners, coffee shops, and gas stations.  Think of The Jetsons, or anything referred to as “space-age” or “atomic age,” back when the future seemed bright and exciting, guided by trust in science and faith in exploration.  I love that style for its timeless quality, while simultaneously being totally of its time (and of course before my time).

Bob’s Big Boy is named for its founder, Bob Wian, and for Richard Woodruff, a six-year-old boy who did odd jobs around the diner, who Bob called “Big Boy.”  The familiar restaurant mascot was inspired by Woodruff — a friendly corporate logo based on a heartwarming tale of child labor.

Inside, it looks like a classic mid-century coffee shop with a long counter surrounding the open kitchen, plus plenty of cushy booths along the side and in the back.  They have kept the restaurant looking clean and welcoming over the decades, which isn’t always the case at some of these old-school L.A. eateries.   

The Burbank location was the first of what would become a nationwide chain, but now there are random, assorted Big Boy restaurants scattered around the country.  My wife assures me there even used to be one in Orlando, but I was never aware of any in Miami, growing up down there in the ’80s.

But you can’t eat architecture or vibes, so what brought me way out of my way to this old-timey diner on my most recent work trip to L.A., a city renowned for excellent restaurants of all styles and price points?  I was paying homage to one of my all-time favorite creative individuals, the late, great filmmaker/writer/actor/musician/visual artist David Lynch, who passed away on January 16, 2025, four days shy of his 79th birthday.

Lynch might be best known as the co-creator of the beloved television series Twin Peaks, which ran for two seasons from 1990 to 1991, got a bizarre movie prequel (Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me) in 1992, and then returned in 2017 for a magnificent third season in 2017, reintroducing the surviving cast members, all of whom had aged considerably in the intervening years, alongside the man who dreamed it all up.  Twin Peaks, which combines a quirky small-town dramedy and a dark, twisty murder mystery is not for everyone, but it is near and dear to my heart.  He also wrote and directed the films Eraserhead, The Elephant Man, Dune (the first one, natch), Blue Velvet, Wild at Heart (an underrated classic with one of the greatest Nicolas Cage performances), The Straight Story (a rare G-rated Lynch movie that you can watch with your entire family), Lost Highway, Mulholland Drive (another one of my all-time favorite movies), and Inland Empire.

For many years, Lynch was a regular at the Bob’s Big Boy in Burbank, and he did so much writing over black coffee, chocolate milkshakes, and plates of fries.  The Bob’s Big Boy website even has a special Hall of Fame page for David Lynch, detailing his typical lunch order and explaining that as a creature of habit, he always liked to eat right at 2:30.  It quotes his book Catching the Big Fish: “I used to go to Bob’s Big Boy restaurant just about every day from the mid-seventies until the early eighties.  I’d have a milk shake and sit and think.  There’s a safety in thinking in a diner.  You can have your coffee or your milk shake, and you can go off into strange dark areas, and always come back to the safety of the diner.”

This was my first work trip to L.A. since Lynch had passed away, and I wanted to see where the magic had happened, to enjoy a meal in this humble diner he loved so much, that fueled his nonstop (and often nightmarish) creativity — maybe to feel a bit of the inspiration he felt.  Bob’s Big Boy was my last stop before going to the airport and heading home, and thanks to some lucky timing, I was able to have my lunch at 2:30 as well.

Unfortunately, I didn’t order Lynch’s lunch.  I am not a coffee drinker — it usually hits me hard, hours after drinking it, with a wave of intense acid reflux and the feeling of my heart wanting to jackhammer its way out of my body through my ribcage and fly around the room.  It is not a pleasant feeling, and that was the last thing I needed before a red-eye flight home.  Instead, I got a strawberry lemonade that was light and refreshing, with plenty of freshly sliced strawberries and that good kind of crushed ice.

A few things on the menu tempted me, but since this was my first visit to Bob’s Big Boy, and possibly my only visit ever, I went with a classic order: the “Original” Big Boy combo: their original Double-Deck hamburger with fries and a side salad.  The salad came out first.  My very kind server Rachael told me they are famous for their bleu cheese and ranch dressings, so I went with bleu cheese, a dressing I almost never get on a salad.  The salad was fine (iceberg lettuce, cucumbers, finely shredded cheddar cheese, and really firm croutons), but the bleu cheese dressing elevated it to something better than the sum of its parts.

I knew what to expect from the Original Double-Deck burger, but I was still a little surprised when it came out.  It had two burger patties with top, middle, and bottom sesame seed buns, cheese, lettuce, mayo and “special red relish.”  If that sounds mostly familiar, it’s because most of us have eaten a McDonald’s Big Mac at some point in our lives, or at least seen one or heard about them.  I did a bit of research, and it turns out the Big Mac was introduced by a McDonald’s franchisee in Pittsburgh in 1967 and became a nationwide product in 1968.  The franchisee, Michael James “Jim” Delligatti, used to manage a Big Boy, and that three-bun wonder surely made an impression on him, enough to rip it off.

That said, the red relish was delightfully tangy and zippy — kind of similar to Wickles Spicy Red Sandwich Spread (which includes jalapeño peppers and cucumbers), but not as spicy.  I probably would have preferred a chili cheeseburger (which old-school L.A. restaurants call a chili size), but I had to try the original, and it was what it was.

I know David Lynch appreciated his fries, especially at Bob’s Big Boy, but I can never settle for fries when onion rings are an option.  RING THE ALARM!  For a slight upcharge, I got onion rings in my combo, and they were okay.  These are breaded, and I always prefer battered onion rings.  But luckily for me and my readers (and unluckily for my body), I had better onion rings at two different restaurants on this same L.A. trip.

Rachael was sweet and kind enough to bring me little dipping cups of bleu cheese and ranch dressing to dip my onion rings, and the ranch was as good as the bleu cheese, if not better.  I never get ranch as a salad dressing or a dip, but maybe I would if all ranch was this good!  If you live out west, they actually sell Bob’s salad dressings at supermarkets, you lucky ducks.

Usually I like ketchup on burgers and onion rings, but I never even touched the ketchup at this meal, wanting to sample everything in its purest form.

Even though David Lynch favored chocolate milkshakes at Bob’s Big Boy, I know he was also very fond of pie.  The Double R Diner on Twin Peaks was famous for its cherry pie (and its gorgeous waitresses, always beset by dangerous, desperate men), but I noticed that fresh strawberry pie is a seasonal special on the Bob’s menu, and that sounded too good to pass up.  It was pretty much what you would expect a classic strawberry pie to be — not as good as Evette Rahman’s National Pie Championship-winning strawberry cheese pie at Sister Honey’s Bakery in Orlando, but nothing is.  Still, it hit the spot, and it was a generous serving.

Yes, there is some pie crust under there!

I admit that I ate pretty quickly because I had to grab a Lyft and make it from Burbank to LAX against unknowable afternoon traffic, but I got to my gate two hours before boarding, so all was well.  I had a good feeling I would be okay.  While I have eaten better, more memorable meals in Los Angeles — even on this same trip, which I will write about eventually — I have no regrets about making a pilgrimage to Bob’s Big Boy, to enjoy a tiny taste of classic Americana and retrace the steps of a weirdly wholesome creative genius who brought so much entertainment to my life.

I should have researched which booth David Lynch liked to sit in, but ultimately, that doesn’t matter.  The fact that he did so much writing at Bob’s Big Boy, leading to so many unforgettable movies and hours of television, was enough to get me in the door, and I’m so relieved I got that experience.  Even though I know he was recently buried in the Hollywood Forever Cemetery with a simple, mysterious grave marker that reads “Night Blooming Jasmine,” I would not have been surprised to see the man himself in a nearby booth, his gray pompadour gone white, his dress shirt buttoned all the way up to his neck, scribbling notes on a napkin.  I would have given him a thumbs-up like his Twin Peaks protagonist, Special Agent Dale Cooper, and he might have raised his cup of black coffee to me and said something charmingly cryptic to me in that great old-timey newsman-sounding voice of his, like “Keep your eye on the donut, not the hole.”

Terralina Crafted Italian

Another Disney restaurant review, a week after the last one?  Is our friendly neighborhood Saboscrivner kidding?  Is he out of ideas, or did he come out as a Disney adult?  None of the above are true.  But after taking my wife to the birthday dinner of her choosing, I returned to the “happiest place on Earth” (depends who you ask and what mood they’re in when you ask them, I guess) to catch up with former co-workers at Disney Springs.  Before my current job, which I love, I worked somewhere for 15 years, and it was a constant roller coaster ride.  I left in 2023, onward and upward toward a brighter, more promising future, and for this dinner, we were celebrating a former colleague who had recently done the same.

Our group met at Terralina Crafted Italian (https://www.terralinacrafteditalian.com/), and it was my first visit to this restaurant.  All the food I tried was quite good, but the company is what really made this meal special.  I hadn’t seen any of these people in almost two years and had never met my former colleague’s lovely wife or his sweet, quiet visiting mother-in-law.  Coming from the same workplace, we had all been through a lot and had a lot to discuss.

Not every restaurant brings bread for the table anymore, but Terralina Crafted dropped off baskets of fresh, warm, fluffy focaccia bread with a hint of rosemary.  They suggest you enjoy it with olive oil (in the bottle), salt, and pepper.  The bread was wonderful with the olive oil, but I wish there had been some sweet balsamic vinegar or syrupy, sticky balsamic glaze to go with it.  I put that stuff on anything and everything!

I was sitting next to my former colleague, who ordered a few apps to share with the table.  These were mozzarella-stuffed rice balls, the beautiful love children of mozzarella sticks and arancini (balls of creamy rice or risotto, covered in bread crumbs and deep-fried.  This version was the best of both worlds, and I truly enjoyed the bites I shared.  The tomato-basil dipping sauce added a nice hit of acid to balance the salt and fat, and the thick flakes of shaved parmesan cheese were a nice touch for the presentation.

I did not try these bruschetta, but the presentation was beautiful.  The bread slices were toasted or grilled and topped with diced tomato, basil pesto, arugula, shaved parmesan, and my beloved balsamic glaze (so they have it in the kitchen!).

Two people in my party ordered this  salad of spinach, beets, gorgonzola, and fennel, tossed in a honey balsamic vinaigrette.  I didn’t try theirs, but one of my friends thought they added a bit too much dressing.

I didn’t get photos of everyone’s food on the far side of the table, but my colleague sitting to my left ordered a wood-fired pizza with bacon, mushrooms, leeks, roasted garlic, and mozzarella.  It looked and smelled lovely, and he seemed to like it.

My friend, colleague, and former mentor and supervisor on my right, a vegetarian, ordered this margherita pizza, topped simply with fresh mozzarella, tomato slices, and fresh basil.  At the end of our meal, she had two slices left over and offered them to me, since she was staying overnight at one of the Disney hotels and doesn’t dig on leftovers.  As for me, most of my meals are comprised of leftovers, so I gladly and gratefully took her pizza and enjoyed the heck out of it the following day.  The toaster oven did a brilliant job crisping it back up,  and I have become a major proponent of fresh basil on pizza.

I had been thinking about getting one of those pizzas, but then I saw the Italian grinder, a sandwich with spicy capicola ham, pepperoni, fresh  mozzarella, tomato, roasted red pepper strips, arugula, basil pesto, and balsamic glaze.  Since an Italian sub is always my favorite meal, I no longer felt the need to look any further.  But I’m glad I asked our patient server if the grinder is served hot or cold, because I prefer sandwiches with Italian meats served cold, rather than hot, with the cured meats turned crispy and greasy.  He said the bread would have to be warm, but the sandwich ingredients could be cold, and that was perfect.  
What I didn’t expect was that the grinder would be served on a warm flatbread (pretty much like the pizzas, crispy and soft at the same time), rather than a sub or hoagie roll.  It was an interesting surprise that made the grinder a little messier to eat, but look at that gorgeous presentation!  Still, I did fine eating like an adult man in front of my colleagues without besmirching myself.  A popular local (non-Disney) restaurant, Pizza Bruno, used to make an Italian sandwich similar to this, which they called a piadina.  I loved that thing, but they stopped serving it.

The sandwiches at Terralina Crafted come with house-made truffle potato chips and garlic pickles, but I asked to substitute fries for $4, and I’m so glad I did.  Since mushrooms are my culinary Kryptonite, I avoid truffles and truffle oil too, in an abundance of caution.  The fries were the kind I really love — the lightly battered, crispy kind.  I wasn’t expecting that, but I devoured them.  The garlic pickles were incredible!  I don’t know if they make those in-house or buy them from somewhere, but they were some of the tastiest pickles I’ve ever had, sliced almost paper-thin but still crunchy.  I shared some with another friend, who said they tasted like pickles her mother used to make.  I love it when food brings on a nostalgic reaction, even if it isn’t mine!  I need to find out what their deal is.

So that was my first trip to Terralina Crafted Italian.  I might have never tried it, because Orlando has no shortage of Italian restaurants, most seem overpriced, and I have simple pleasures — Italian subs and hoagies, New York-style pizza by the slice, and I make terrific pasta dishes and the best lasagna at home.  But even though I admit that I’m usually underwhelmed by Disney restaurants, Terralina Crafted was a terrific choice, especially for a large group with different tastes.  I would happily return in the future.  And the best treat of all was seeing these great people again, for the first time in far too long.  We almost went to House of Blues for dinner, which would have been fine, but I’m so glad the evening worked out the way it did.

By the way, if you’re planning to go to Terralina Crafted Italian yourself, the Lime Garage at Disney Springs is the most convenient place to park.

Red Rooster Overtown (Miami)

This past weekend, I visited Miami, the city where I grew up but never felt at home, for the first time in a year and a half.  I caught up with my parents and brother, then hung out with my best friend.  We saw the legendary hip hop group De La Soul (my second-favorite hip hop group of all time, after A Tribe Called Quest), performing at a nice concert hall in downtown Miami.  But before that legendary concert, we also ate what turned out to be one of the best meals of my life.

The restaurant was Red Rooster Overtown (https://www.redroosterovertown.com/), one of the many restaurants created by the Ethiopian-born, Swedish-raised celebrity chef Marcus Samuelsson, who opened his first Red Rooster location in Harlem.  If you watched the Luke Cage TV series, Harlem’s badass hero for hire Luke Cage took his ladyfriend Claire Temple to eat at the original Red Rooster in season 2, episode 1.  Back when that episode dropped in 2018, I looked it up to confirm it was a real place, checked out the menu, and remembered it when I learned a second location opened in Miami in 2019.  But this was my first chance to dine there, and I’m so glad we did.

By the way, Overtown is a historic Black neighborhood in downtown Miami that has definitely undergone some gentrification in recent years.  The Red Rooster building is literally standing in the shadows of expensive-looking high-rise condos, and we saw a “Museum of Ice Cream” and a Savage X Fenty lingerie boutique nearby.  But make no mistake, this esteemed restaurant celebrates the vibrant history of Overtown and Miami’s cultural and culinary histories.  The décor inside Red Rooster Overtown features artwork and artifacts on display in the beautiful dining room that celebrate and commemorate Black culture, including original covers and pages from different editions of the Green Book, safety guides for Black motorists, framed near the hostess stand.


Right above our table, I dug a gorgeous accordion, a cool old projector, and a reference book about the Black Panthers (not the superhero, but the unfairly vilified political activist organization that did a lot of good in so many underserved communities from the late 1960s to 1982).

Unlike the original Red Rooster in Harlem, which serves “elevated” soul food, Red Rooster Overtown combines soul food with Caribbean flavors, creating a fusion menu that is a perfect microcosm for Miami itself.  Every dish on the menu looked amazing.  I literally wanted to try everything, but my dude and I did try a bunch of stuff on our first (but hopefully not last) visit.  We went to town!

We started with the best deviled eggs I’ve ever had, and I love deviled eggs.  This quartet came sprinkled with Aleppo pepper, used the most in Syrian, Turkish, and Armenian cuisine, and each egg half was garnished with a crispy chicharron, or fried pork skin.  We each got two deviled eggs, and like a good sushi roll, they were best eaten in one bite to ensure we experienced all the flavors and textures (soft and yielding, crunchy and crackly) all at once.

Next up, we shared another appetizer: cassava papas bravas.  Cassava is probably better known as yuca, a starchy root vegetable that is usually boiled or fried, not unlike potatoes, and papas bravas are a Spanish dish with fried potatoes served with really cool stuff on them, like a spicy red sauce.  I’ve tried yuca from countless Cuban and Puerto Rican restaurants, and I must admit I’ve never loved it, especially not when sweet ripe plantains (maduros) or good French fries are available.  But this dish changed my mind and made me realize the heights that a talented chef could reach with the humble yuca.

These were perfectly chewy little orbs with lightly crispy fried exteriors, almost like the love child of gnocchi pasta and tater tots.  They were served with red curry sauce, blistered tomatoes, cotija cheese (a salty, crumbly, dry Mexican cheese similar to feta or parmesan), and lime, so it was a feast of salt, fat, and acid that formed a perfect balance.  They were sublime.  Chef’s kiss, 10/10, no notes.

My buddy ordered the fried yardbird, because he likes fried chicken even more than I do.  It came with three pieces, and I got the leg, which was magnificent.  Juicy, tender, fried to perfection, crispy and well-seasoned breading, not greasy at all.  Better still, it came with chili butter, house pickles, and braised collards, which I was very tempted to order separately until we realized it came with the fried chicken.
The braised collards are made with smoked turkey, and they were so damn fine — no getting funky on the mic for this batch of collard greens!  I always order them whenever I see them on a barbecue or soul food menu, but these were the best greens I’ve ever had.  In fact, “the best _____ I’ve ever had” is a running theme for this review.

I don’t know if I am famous for my love of oxtails, but I do love oxtails, and anyone who knows me knows that.  However, my friend is not a fan, so I opted against trying the Guyanese oxtail pepper pot with sweet plantains, piquillo peppers, and coconut lime rice, even though that seems like a winning combination.  He doesn’t dig on catfish either, so I skipped the Overtown fish fry, with fried catfish, red shrimp, and oxtail fried rice.

But since I have a lot of love for other tender, unctuous, bone-in braised meats, I ordered a new dish that had recently been added to the menu, the smoked jerk short rib, served with butter bean stew and fennel slaw.  These short ribs were served sliced on top of the creamy butter bean stew, with with all the bones removed, and tender enough to cut with a fork.  They were pleasantly spiced, but not spicy.  The fennel “slaw” wasn’t much like any slaw I’ve ever had before — not creamy nor vinegary — but thin, almost shaved shreds of fennel bulb on top of the short rib slices added some crunch and herby-sweet flavor.
We both loved this one.  I must admit it wasn’t the best short rib dish I’ve ever had (that was the Montreal-style smoked short rib dish I had at Abe Fisher, an Ashkenazi Jewish restaurant in Philadelphia that closed about a month after my wife and I ate like kings there in 2023), but it was probably the second-best short rib dish I’ve ever had.

We shared a couple of sides, too.  We know how to party!  The crispy brussels sprouts with shallot vinaigrette, topped with a snow flurry of finely shredded parmigiano reggiano cheese, was a savory, tart, umami adventure.  I’m a sucker for anything with an interesting vinaigrette dressing, so that was a hit.  I wish my brussels sprouts came out that well, but now I just need to experiment more.

And the charred candied yams with chili crunch (the hottest condiment around these days, rightfully replacing old and busted sriracha) and lime aioli was another feast for the senses, as beautiful as it was delicious, and full of wild flavors and interesting contrasting textures.  I never would have ordered this one on my own, but I sure was happy to try it.

Finally, even though neither of us are the biggest dessert dudes, we split the key lime pie, which is always one of my favorite desserts anywhere.  Since my wife doesn’t care for it, I never order it when I’m with her, but this pie was yet another platinum hit.  It was served as a round tart rather than a typical slice from a larger pie, with a light graham cracker crust and topped with wonderful coconut meringue that went perfectly with the sweet, creamy, tart pie filling.  The best key lime pie I’ve ever had is right here in Orlando, at Sister Honey’s Bakery, but this key lime pie/tart was damn fine in its own right.

So that’s my rundown of Red Rooster Overtown.  I cannot rave enough about this place.  I’ve had a handful of restaurant meals where every dish and every bite is better than the last, culminating in a culinary crescendo.  The aforementioned Abe Fisher in Philly (RIP) was one of those for sure.  This was another.  Normally I would say that nothing could top a meal like that, but then we saw De La Soul, and Posdnous, Maseo, and special guest Pharoahe Monch filled that theater with love and joy.  It was a perfect meal for the occasion — soul food before De La Soul.  Upon researching more about Red Rooster to write this review, I discovered another connection: De La Soul founded The Spitkicker Collective, a group of Black musical artists and other creative people to engage in social activism, and Chef Marcus Samuelsson — the Red Rooster founder himself — also got involved.  So our evening seemed preordained.  I wonder if the group hung out and partied at Red Rooster Overtown after the show.  Regardless, I’m so glad we went there before the show, and I certainly hope to return with my friend on a future trip to Miami.

And on that note, Red Rooster Overtown also offers a weekend brunch buffet with a DJ spinning, as well as a Sunday evening buffet with live jazz, with both buffet menus on the restaurant’s website (linked at the top of my review).  Either of those would be a great excuse to go back, and buffets and jazz are two of my favorite things!

The Prince (Los Angeles)

The Prince (https://www.instagram.com/theprincela) is a classy, old-school Los Angeles Korean restaurant and lounge that is most famous for appearing in multiple movies and TV shows over the decades, including Chinatown (one of the greatest L.A. movies, neo-noirs, and movies in general of all time), Mad Men (one of my favorite shows of all time), and New Girl (where it was the characters’ regular hangout).  I’ve never actually watched New Girl, but now I am imagining Zooey Deschanel with bangs and glasses, singing a silly old song (maybe “Dream a Little Dream of Me”?) and strumming a ukulele in this dusky, dark red hipster hangout.

Back in November, I was on a work trip to L.A. and had a chance to join some of my amazing co-workers for dinner.  I always stay in Koreatown, where my employer is located, and where there seem to be hundreds of Korean restaurants to choose from, at all different styles and price points.  I am still very new to Korean food, but the more things I try, the more I feel inspired to branch out and try more.  The Prince was walkable from our campus, so since I was already aware of its cinematic résumé and timeless cool décor, I convinced this small group to trust and follow me.

I must apologize in advance for the photos that follow in this review.  It’s a gorgeous room, dark and anachronistic, but as soon as I took my first photo to set the scene, a server yelled at me to not use flash photography inside.  So I did my best, such as it is, to share the red vinyl booths, the dark wood, the dim lighting, and even these hale and hearty knights standing guard.

Also, I swear I saw Spike Jonze, director of super-creative movies and iconic music videos, dining there, but I wasn’t 100% sure it was him.  As much as I wanted to thank him for “Sabotage,” Adaptation, and Jackass, I didn’t want to be That Guy who disturbed his dinner… especially if it wasn’t Spike.

Anyway, our group was a mix of adventurous and unadventurous eaters, so we picked five things that looked good to everyone, and we all shared them.   That is my favorite way to dine with friends.

These are the onion rings (RING THE ALARM!) and cheese balls, because you know if I go anywhere and see onion rings on the menu, I have to order them.  They were crowd-pleasers, and it was not the first time I had really good onion rings at a Korean restaurant.   The cheese balls were even better — perfect, golden-fried, golf ball-sized orbs with melty cheese in the middle, under the breading.  I should have tried to get a shot of a bisected cheese ball to show you their molten, sticky, creamy centers, but they went fast!

When you’re introducing Korean food to unfamiliar diners, beef bulgogi is one of those perfect gateway dishes.  Bulgogi is a dish of thin-sliced beef (often sirloin steak), marinated in a savory-sweet sauce, and then grilled or stir-fried with onions and green bell peppers.  The bulgogi marinade contains soy sauce, sugar, sesame oil, garlic, ginger, and pear juice, which tenderizes the meat.  There is nothing spicy or “weird” to scare off the unadventurous diner, so it was another hit at our table. Just FYI: “bul” is Korean for fire, and “gogi” means meat.

We also ordered galbi (sometimes called kalbi), a very similar dish but with beef short ribs sliced cross-wise against the bones, rather than thin-sliced steak.  It has a similar flavor due to the marinade, but I already love short ribs in any form — not just the flavor, but the wonderful texture.  I especially like the chewy part of the meat right around the bones, which you can just pull off with your fingers if you don’t want to gnaw it off.  This was served over onions and scallions, and there wasn’t a morsel left.

I didn’t have any input in choosing this garlic shrimp dish, served with fresh, raw, shredded cabbage, but I was happy to try a couple of the shrimp, which came in their shells and had to be peeled.  It was delicious — different from scampi or any other garlic shrimp dish you might be envisioning, but still very satisfying.

I did choose this dish, though: thick, perfectly al dente udon noodles served with mixed seafood: shrimp, mussels, squid, and tiny crab legs (more trouble than they were worth to crack open).  The menu describes it as coming in a spicy broth, but it could be served mild upon request.  I honestly don’t remember what we decided as a group, but I think we went with spicy and almost everyone still loved it.

Real Korean food aficionados might be rolling their eyes, disappointed that we made relatively staid and familiar choices, but that’s often what happens in a “family-style” group dining situation.  I would have loved to try the soondae, since I always love blood sausage in all its other forms, from Argentinian morcilla to British black pudding, but nobody else was on board with this one.  It’s all good!

I have no regrets or complaints about The Prince, especially because it is such a part of Los Angeles and Hollywood history.  I would not be surprised if there are better Korean restaurants in L.A.’s Koreatown, but the vibes at The Prince are unmatched.  Every time I make it out there for work, I try to visit at least one historic, iconic L.A. landmark, whether it’s a tourist attraction, a restaurant, or both.  So far, I’m making quite a list.  I love my job, and I love L.A.!

Genghis Cohen (Los Angeles)

When I visited Los Angeles for work earlier this year, my supervisor and I went to the “New York-style” Chinese restaurant Genghis Cohen (https://www.genghiscohen.com/), which first opened in 1983.  In addition to the truly great name, I chose the restaurant because it has special significance to me as a comedy nerd.  There was an entire episode of Seinfeld where the characters were stuck at a Chinese restaurant, waiting for a table that never became available.  That episode was instrumental in forming that sitcom’s (somewhat overused) description of “a show about nothing.”  Co-creator, genius comedy writer, and awe-inspiring altacocker Larry David, the brains of the operation and the main reason anyone still fondly remembers Seinfeld today, was inspired by a similar experience at Genghis Cohen in L.A., so there you go.

We started out by sharing these excellent pan-fried pork pot stickers.  There was nothing unique about them, but fried pot stickers are always a delicious appetizer, and you can never go wrong with them.

My supervisor chose the happy family, a dish I never would have considered ordering myself, although it really looked and smelled great.  It included chicken, shrimp, barbecue pork, carrots, cabbage, onions, bean sprouts, and crunchy fried noodles, all stir-fried together.  He really liked it.

And while I had other dishes in mind, I absolutely had to order the shalom pork, with sliced barbecue pork (think char siu), onions, cabbage, and green bell peppers, all stir-fried together with barbecue sauce (not the sweet and smoky American style barbecue sauce, of course).  Not only was the Genghis Cohen name hilarious to me, but so was the shalom pork, so I couldn’t resist. 

Since I am lucky enough to take work trips to L.A. twice a year, I plan my restaurant excursions as far in advance as possible, considering I never rent a car out there and usually don’t have much down time to play tourist.  I don’t know if I’ll ever make it back to Genghis Cohen, but I’m really glad I went, and that my supervisor was willing to join me.  There’s a helpful hint for aspiring restauranteurs: if you open a place with a funny, punny name, you will probably get at least one customer.

Prato

The upscale Italian restaurant Prato (https://www.prato-wp.com/) is a mainstay of Winter Park’s tony Park Avenue for good reason.  Chef and co-owner Brandon McGlamery (also of the excellent Luke’s Kitchen and Bar in Maitland) has always served top-notch food in gorgeous surroundings.  This is not a typical “red sauce” Italian-American restaurant, so don’t expect spaghetti and meatballs or red and white checkered tablecloths.  But even though Prato is a cut above, it isn’t snooty or snobby, and the comfort food truly comforts.

I had not been back to Prato in years, due in part to the difficulty of parking on Park Avenue (ironic, eh?) and a lot of bad timing.  Sometimes I’d find myself there in the off time between lunch and dinner service, where Prato only offered a limited menu, and one of the most famous pasta dishes in Orlando was unavailable.  This review was from a recent visit with my wife for lunch, which I timed just so I could try the legendary pasta for the first time, after years of reading hype about it online.

We started out with pretzel-crusted calamari, fried to golden-brown perfection.  I always note that too many restaurants overcook their squid tubes and tentacles until they are chewy and rubbery, but these were really tender, as they should be.  We had tried these before, too many years ago, and these were just as good as they had always been.  I always appreciate dipping sauces (salsa rosa and grain mustard aioli), but this calamari didn’t even need them.  That didn’t stop me from dipping, though!

After how much we enjoyed the beef tartare on a recent trip to Luke’s, we decided to trust Chef McGlamery and ordered the carne cruda at Prato as well, to compare and contrast them.  It is raw beef (which tastes great and must be the highest quality to avoid safety concerns), topped with a farm-fresh egg, grated horseradish, and romanesco conserva.  I realize romanesco is a relative of the cauliflower that grows in stunning fractal patterns, but I didn’t see any of that vegetable, so I wondered if the menu might have meant romesco, which is a sauce made from cooking down tomatoes, roasted red peppers, garlic, and almonds.  It was also served with crunchy toasted focaccia bread slices for scooping up the meat or spreading it onto the toast.  We loved it, just as we loved the beef tartare at Luke’s.

Here’s a close-up of that amazing carne cruda.  The meat was so tender and flavorful in a way we rarely get to experience, since everyone cooks their meat (and should continue to do so, don’t get me wrong).

I forgot to mention that we came to Prato during weekend brunch hours, being sure to be there as it opened to avoid a long wait.  After the savory appetizers, my wife went with a sweet dish: perfect little pancakes topped with freshly made ricotta cheese and blueberry compote (which strikes me as more of a dessert than a breakfast dish, but millions of brunchers will disagree).  She adored it.

And I finally got to try the legendary pasta dish, mustard spaghettini “cacio e pepe.”  I fully admit to being a red sauce guy, since that’s the Italian food  I was raised eating.  I am always drawn to rich bolognese and spicy arrabbiata sauces, so I rarely order cacio e pepe on menus, even though it can be so luxurious and decadent despite its relative simplicity (just Pecorino Romano cheese — the cacio — and black pepper — the pepe).  This version was anything but simple, though.  It included mustard in there somewhere, but it’s subtle, and you definitely won’t detect the brightness of yellow mustard or anything horseradishy, so don’t worry about that.  I love mustard (and even review mustards on this blog), so that was the main thing that had me intrigued for so many years.   
This house-made pasta also includes balsamic vinegar (another favorite ingredient of mine), radicchio, a spicy and bitter vegetable that looks like red and white cabbage and is sometimes called Italian chicory, and speck, a cured and lightly smoked pork leg (think of ham or bacon) from the cold and mountainous South Tyrol province in northeastern Italy.  If you are familiar with geography, you might guess that there is some German or Austrian influence to this particular cured meat, and you’d be right.  Also, the mountains are called the Dolomites, but Rudy Ray Moore had nothing to do with it.

This was a gorgeous and delicious pasta dish that surpassed all the hype.  I make pretty great pasta dishes at home, but I had never had anything quite like this, and I was so happy to finally try it, after all these years.  It was one of my favorite things I ate in 2024, that’s for sure.

I don’t know when we will return to Prato, but as tempting as it always is to try new things on every visit, I am obsessed enough with the mustard spaghettini “cacio e pepe” that I will probably order it again and again in the future.  It’s like nothing I’ve ever tried before.  Leave it to me to be late to the party and then never want to leave!  But I’m sure Prato being great is no big surprise or secret to anyone else in Winter Park or Orlando.  It has a swanky vibe that would be perfect for a date night or just a nice dinner out.  The hardest parts will be parking nearby and figuring out what to order, but hopefully I have already helped you with the second challenge.

Sushi Yama

Sushi Yama (https://www.facebook.com/p/sushiyamaOrlando-61554754973187/) is one of a handful of all-you-can-eat sushi restaurants in Orlando.  I used to love Mikado Japanese Sushi Buffet in Altamonte Springs, but nobody else ever wants to go there with me, and I fully admit it isn’t as good as it once was.  (EDITOR’S NOTE: Mikado closed in 2025.)

More recently, I took my wife to another all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant, but one where you order off a menu and everything is brought fresh to your table, rather than grabbing premade sushi rolls and nigiri off a buffet.  That was a truly horrendous experience, to the point where it almost seemed like a prank or a comedy sketch — terrible food and cartoonishly inept service.  I love sushi, but that was the first time I ever “hate-ate” anything (similar to hate-watching a movie or TV show out of bewildered fascination or the hope that it might improve).  I never reviewed that place because I had nothing nice to say about it, but to nobody’s surprise, it did not last.

As a result of that execrable experience at a completely different restaurant, when I discovered Sushi Yama and wanted to try it, my wife wanted nothing to do with it.  I ended up going by myself for lunch, after checking in at the wonderful Gods & Monsters comic book and collectible store on International Drive.  Well, I had a grand time, and I will be happy to go back anytime, for any of my friends and acquaintances who also like sushi and good deals.

I had a good feeling when I was greeted by a human-sized maneki neko (lucky cat) at the entrance.

Here are photos of the menu.  At the time I visited, the all-you-can-eat lunch was $20.95 (the price of two to three rolls at most regular Japanese restaurants), and you can choose from so many great options.

In addition to the sushi on the previous page, lunch also includes hot, fresh appetizers, soups, fried tempura dishes, fried rice and noodles, and even teriyaki, all prepared fresh in the kitchen.  If you’re the least bit curious about going but don’t actually like sushi or have friends or family who don’t, there is plenty for you folks to choose from as well.

I was told that the kitchen would be faster than the sushi chefs, so I might want to order something from the kitchen to tide myself over.  Instead of ordering the vegetable tempura (with broccoli, zucchini, sweet potato, and an onion ring), since it was all one price for the lunch, I asked if I could just get onion rings, and that was totally cool.  Ring the Alarm!  Leave it to me to go out for all-you-can-eat sushi and still end up with onion rings.  But they were terrific, and the tempura batter was a perfect consistency and stayed in place.

I love ornate rolls with multiple contrasting ingredients (sorry, sushi purists!), so I ordered several Chef’s Special rolls, and they all came on this gorgeous platter, arranged beautifully.

This assortment included:

    • Rainbow roll – a California roll topped with tuna, salmon, whitefish, and avocado
    • Salmon run roll -a roll containing eel and spicy krab, topped with salmon, masago fish eggs, and eel sauce
    • Baby tiger roll – a roll containing spicy tuna and cucumber, topped with salmon, avocado, masago fish eggs, and tempura crunch
    • SnowMan roll – a roll containing spicy tuna, shrimp tempura, and avocado, topped with snow krab, masago fish eggs, tempura crunch, and and eel sauce
    • Spicy tuna roll (done as a hand roll, in the bottom left corner above)

Here they are again from a different angle.  Beautiful!

I also got three pieces of nigiri: smoked salmon, red snapper (tai), and eel unago), which were all fresh and tasty. 

I should note that you get a penalty for ordering a bunch of food and not finishing it (including the rice that is part of nigiri sushi), as you should, because I consider wasting food a shanda.  For the carb-conscious among us, Sushi Yama charges more at dinnertime, but you can also get sashimi — just the slices of fresh, raw fish without the rice underneath.

It’s too bad Sushi Yama is across town on the north end of International Drive, or I would go there quite often.  As it is, I will return whenever I can, which won’t be often enough.  But whenever I have a chance to stop by Gods & Monsters, I will make it a point to arrive hungry and head straight there afterwards.  I’ll try to go for dinner in the future to take advantage of that sashimi, too!

The Bayou Kitchen and Lounge

The Bayou Kitchen and Lounge (https://thebayouorlando.com/) is a New Orleans-style restaurant in Longwood, Florida.  I loooove Creole, Cajun, and New Orleans-style food, all tracing back to the four trips I got to take to New Orleans between 1998 and 2001, as a young lad obsessed with music and food.  Sadly, our options here in Orlando are somewhat limited to Tibby’s and Vietnamese-Cajun places like King Cajun Crawfish.  (I still remember the long-gone Crooked Bayou in downtown Orlando and Jockamo’s way out on Sand Lake Road and John Young Parkway!)  So needless to say, I was excited when The Bayou opened, and even more excited to read good reviews.

I recently made it over there on a weekend for lunch with my wife, and we were joined by one of her old and dear friends.  My wife and her friend both ordered cups of gumbo, which looked more like bowls to me.  (A lot of restaurants will give you a really puny cup, but not The Bayou!)  It comes with a scoop of white rice in the rich stew, but my wife’s friend asked for hers with no rice, and this was the better photo of the two of them.  The gumbo wasn’t very spicy (at least I didn’t think so), but it was loaded with chicken, shrimp, crawfish, andouille sausage, and both bowls came with a small crab leg sticking out, for dramatic effect.  (We ended up taking both crab legs home, along with a bunch of other leftovers, where I cracked them open for myself.  There wasn’t much meat, but I often think that even larger crab legs are more trouble than they’re worth.)

After becoming a huge fan of charbroiled oysters at one of my favorite Orlando restaurants, High Tide Harry’s, I thought I was being a cool, sophisticated guy by ordering charbroiled oysters for the table.  However, I ended up eating almost all of them myself.  I guess I can’t complain, even though I really did order them to share.
These were pretty big oysters on the half shell, fully cooked and covered with sizzling garlic herb butter and parmesan cheese, served with slices of toasted French bread dabbed with even more garlic herb butter.  Not exactly health food!

Here’s an extreme close-up of one of the oysters.  Was it delicious?  Yes, of course it was!  Enough garlic butter makes anything delicious.  But it reminded me how much I prefer my oysters raw and chilled, with maybe just a tiny bit of mignonette.  The Bayou doesn’t serve raw oysters, but they are so refreshing that way, and so heavy this way!

Our friend ordered a fried oyster po’ boy sandwich (the Bayou’s menu calls them “poboyz,” which I do not love) with a side of fried okra, and she seemed to really like it.  I was impressed that they bring in French bread from the Leidenheimer Baking Company in New Orleans, which is the best-known and most beloved po’ boy roll out there.  Unfortunately, the menu calls it “Linenheimer,” but I knew what they meant.

I couldn’t resist a po’ boy either, especially since they had the authentic rolls.  I got a combination of fried oysters and fried crawfish, which you are allowed to do.  The po’ boys come dressed with shredded iceberg lettuce, sliced tomatoes and pickles, and creamy, tangy remoulade sauce, as they should.  I got house-made potato chips as my side.

But I also got a side of onion rings, because I am The Saboscrivner, and I try onion rings whenever and wherever they are available.  Ring the Alarm for these big rings!  They had kind of a loose battered coating — not my preferred style, but pretty good nonetheless.  I thought they were very salty, even by onion ring standards.

My wife always loves chicken and waffles, so she jumped at the chance to order it here.  You can choose between jerk chicken and fried chicken strips, so she went with the fried.  It was served over a big pearl sugar waffle, which is definitely the new hotness when it comes to waffles.  While she was grateful she didn’t have to get spicy jerk chicken, we both thought the fried chicken could have used more seasoning,  especially at a restaurant specializing in such a well-seasoned, savory cuisine.

Since we were partying pretty hard (by our standards), she added on a side of fried lobster, which was only $11.  She liked it a lot more than the fried chicken, needless to say.

And adding to this wild, uninhibited festival of fried food and heavy carbs, we all shared an order of beignets for dessert.  It seemed like the thing to do.  These fried dough balls, topped with enough powdered sugar to look like they were partying in the ’80s, are similar to doughnuts, and they are a major treat in New Orleans, especially at iconic establishments like Cafe du Monde.

So that was everything we had at The Bayou, which turned out to be quite a lot.  I thought the food was better than Tibby’s and certainly different from the Vietnamese-influenced food at King Cajun Crawfish.  I did wish The Bayou had a muffuletta sandwich on the menu, but I wish every restaurant had those.  Nothing ever seems to compare to the food I enjoyed with dear friends in New Orleans almost 25 years ago, but for Orlando and its surrounding suburbs, this was pretty fine.  Plus, The Bayou is the kind of unique, locally owned operation we should all strive to support, especially on a day like today, which happens to be Small Business Saturday.  Tell them The Saboscrivner sent ya, and I guarantee you’ll have a great meal, but they will have no idea what you’re talking about!