Salads – Page 4 – The Saboscrivner

Gabriel’s Subs

Gabriel’s Subs (https://sites.google.com/view/gabrielssubs/home) is a rarity in Orlando — a friendly neighborhood sub shop that has survived and thrived since 1958. Not many restaurants have been around that long in our relatively young city, and especially not in College Park, an area where many trendier restaurants just don’t last for any number of reasons. Through all the turnover, Gabriel’s remains a retro-yet-timeless destination where generations of families and hungry teenagers continue to dine. My high school experience consisted of being a lonely, horny, increasingly bitter outsider, counting down the days to graduating and escaping to college (which I looked at like the witness relocation program), but I guarantee that if I had attended Edgewater High School in College Park, I would have at least looked back fondly on the proximity to Gabriel’s Subs.

I only recently made it to Gabriel’s for the first time, and it was so good that I fixated on it for almost two more weeks before I had a chance to return. A friend with good taste had recommended the cheesesteak sub, with the caveat that it might not be as impressive as other cheesesteaks I’ve had, but it would be something singular and special. Well, this dude called it.

The cheesesteak at Gabriel’s is a pretty simple thing: grilled ribeye steak, sliced so thin it is practically shaved, then sauteed with onions and served on a soft roll with American cheese, my preferred cheese for a burger, breakfast sandwich, or a cheesesteak, as it turns out. Nothing melts quite as satisfyingly or pairs with hot, greasy meats quite as well as good ol’ American. I added hot cherry peppers to mine, which I will always do when they are an option.

It was boiling lava hot and pretty greasy, so the above photo was the only one I got, and it didn’t really show much. I had to go back, to try that sandwich again to see if the first one was an anomaly, or if it would always be that good — and on my second visit, I snapped two slightly better photos. Note the different colored basket for cheesesteak #2:

You see, stalwart Saboscrivnerinos, there are definitely more authentic cheesesteaks around that are more like the classic Philadelphia version. My personal favorites in Orlando are identical sandwiches served at John and John’s – A Pizza Shop and Cavo’s Bar and Kitchen. But what makes Gabriel’s cheesesteak special to me is that it tastes JUST LIKE a Krystal or White Castle slider burger, but in sub form. It’s uncanny, especially after adding a squirt of yellow mustard to my second cheesesteak to match the Krystal flavor even closer.
I left off the pickles (honestly my least favorite part of the Krystal and White Castle flavor) and of course added the hot cherry peppers, which make almost everything better for me, but it was such a comforting, familiar savory flavor profile. The meltiness of the cheese melded with the steak and onions on those soft rolls hit just right, and I can’t say enough nice things about it. It is also reminiscent of that New York borough bodega classic sandwich, the chopped cheese, moreso than any other Philly cheesesteaks you’ve had.

RING THE ALARM, because Gabriel’s serves onion rings, and I had to try them! I prefer battered onion rings to this breaded style, but I ate them with a mountain of ketchup, scalding my tongue the entire time because they were so hot out of the fryer.

While I was trying a historic sub shop for the first time, I couldn’t leave without ordering their version of an Italian sub. Gabriel’s calls it the grinder, and it comes with hard salami, capicola, imported ham, prosciuttini (which I’ve only ever seen on Jersey Mike’s #13 Original Italian), provolone cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, Italian dressing, and I added on sweet peppers. This is the grinder back at home, in front of my familiar microwave on my familiar green plates, after the flavors had a chance to meld together in the fridge for a few hours.

They really load up those soft sub rolls, so it’s a bit messy to eat, even by Italian sub standards. But it was really tasty. It’s hard for me to dethrone the namesake Stasio sub from Stasio’s Italian Deli and Market, but Gabriel’s grinder was really satsifying, and I’d happily order it on any return trips.

In fact, I got one on my very first return trip, to get a better photo (and also because I wanted another one, with hot cherry peppers this time)!

Is it overstuffed? Yes. Is it messy? Indubitably. Is it spicy? Oh, indeed. But so am I.

My friends and dozens of readers know that a sub — and especially an Italian sub — is probably my favorite meal. I am always on a quest for good food, but I seek out sandwiches and subs wherever I go because they always sound good to me. I am thrilled to have finally discovered Gabriel’s Subs after living in the Orlando area for 20 years, but better late than never. And after trying it twice, I totally get it. I’m on board. Like Beefy King, a similar time capsule of a restaurant that has withstood changing tastes and trends by continuing to do what it does best, Gabriel’s is an iconic institution and a certified classic. If you are a fellow fan, what is your usual order, and how long have you been ordering it?

Sarge’s Delicatessen and Diner (New York)

I recently took my wife on a whirlwind trip to New York City to celebrate our 15th anniversary. Before that, we had gone there for our 10th anniversary back in 2019, where I reviewed six restaurants, and before that, we were last there for our honeymoon in 2009.

We made the most of this recent trip — we saw two shows together, and while she saw a third, I made off to attend New York Comic Con, where I got comics signed by beloved writers and artists and posed for a photo with my favorite actress, Carla Gugino. Food-wise, we enjoyed a fancy anniversary meal, visited old favorites Ess-A-Bagel and Junior’s, and I took a trip to the Bronx to visit several iconic Italian delis along Arthur Avenue (which will be the subject of a future Saboscrivner ‘sclusive).

As great as my Arthur Avenue adventure was (spoiler alert!), my single favorite meal on this latest NYC trip was Sarge’s Delicatessen and Diner (https://sargesdeli.com/), and not just because I was back with my wife after a day apart from her, mostly spent waiting in long lines with fellow nerds. Sarge’s is located in Manhattan’s Murray Hill neighborhood and first opened in 1964 — not as ancient as Katz’s Delicatessen, but still an impressive run. You will see why shortly.

I should note that on past trips, we had always gone to the historic Katz’s, a Lower East Side landmark and tourist trap known for its legendary pastrami (and legendary chaos). But since we’ve been more than once, and since I’ve had equally fine pastrami at Langer’s Delicatessen in Los Angeles and The Pastrami Project right here in Orlando since our last Katz’s visit, I wanted us to have a new New York deli experience. People always say that the pastrami at Sarge’s may not be quite as good as Katz’s (maybe an 8 or 9 instead of a perfect 10), but the rye bread is better (it wouldn’t take much), the menu is larger, and the entire experience is a lot more pleasant and relaxing, with booths(!) and table service(!) and no long lines. It sounded amazing, so off we went, reunited after spending our longest day in New York doing our own things.

We were seated right away by a lovely and patient server (try finding one of those at Katz’s!), and there were no long lines to get in nor any weird rituals with tickets. My wife started the meal with a magnificent chocolate milkshake, while I opted for a cool, refreshing vanilla egg cream (no doubt made with Fox’s U-Bet vanilla syrup, which I always keep on hand back home). I had just walked from the Jacob Javits Convention Center to the theater district to meet her as her show let out, so I probably would have been better off with delicious New York City tap water, but I was caught up in the moment.
For those of you who never read my reviews, an egg cream contains neither eggs nor cream. It is made with seltzer water, milk, and a flavored syrup — traditionally Fox’s U-Bet chocolate syrup, but I also love egg creams made with Fox’s U-Bet vanilla and coffee syrups. As a result, they are more like a soda than a thick, heavy milkshake. Sometimes I even enjoy one at the end of a heavy meal to aid with digestion, but tonight I opened with the egg cream.

Like any good deli, Sarge’s quickly brought out free plates of regular and half-sour pickles and fresh, cool, crunchy cole slaw. I devoured the cole slaw and had one of each kind of pickle, and they were all terrific, especially as the first real food I had eaten all day.

We were blessed with blissfully cool October weather on our trip, so my wife got one of her favorite Ashkenazi Jewish comfort foods: matzoh ball soup. It was a huge bowl with one huge matzoh ball in the center, but no visible pieces of chicken, no vegetable, no noodles, just the ball. She said it was amazing soup, and after trying a spoonful of broth, I concurred.

She ordered half a pastrami sandwich with her soup, and she loved it as well. As you can see, Sarge’s serves huge, overstuffed deli sandwiches, but the main difference between Sarge’s and Katz’s pastrami sandwich is that Katz’s hand-slices the pastrami, resulting in thicker slices, while Sarge’s uses a machine, ending up with the much thinner, uniform slices you see here.

Whenever I visit a deli, whether it’s Jewish or Italian, I always try to sample as many different house specialties as I can, especially when I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make it back. I certainly hope to return to Sarge’s one day, but that didn’t stop me from ordering a Custom Combo sandwich with three different meats: the excellent pastrami (on top), its underrated cousin corned beef (in the middle), which was equally great, and rolled beef (the darker meat on the bottom), a mysterious, mythical meat I had only ever heard of, but never seen available anywhere else. For those inquiring, I made sure to deconstruct the sandwich to taste and truly appreciate each meat separately. So what is rolled beef? I wasn’t entirely sure, either before or after eating this heckin’ chonker of a sandwich, so of course I did some research and found a Tablet article about the history of rolled beef. It is cured and smoked beef navel (similar to pastrami in that regard), but less fatty, less peppery, usually served cold, and traditionally a cheaper option at delis. It was great, but I still prefer the perfection of pastrami in the pantheon of salted, cured meats.

And me being me, I saw onion rings on a menu and had to order them. I always try onion rings wherever I am, and I review them in a recurring segment on this blog called RING THE ALARM! Well, folks, I didn’t know exactly what to expect, but our server turned every head in the dining room when she walked out this titanic, tremendous tower, this massive, monumental mountain of gorgeous, golden-brown batter-dipped onion rings. It was almost too beautiful to eat. Almost.
Dear readers, you stalwart Saboscrivnerinos, I can say without hesitation that these were the absolute finest, worthiest, all-time best onion rings I’ve ever had in my life. They narrowly beat another New York deli landmark, the aforementioned Junior’s, which previously held the prize with their similar style of onion rings. These are crispy on the outside (not quite crunchy), and almost cakey on the inside — kind of like fluffy funnel cakes, but savory instead of sweet. I’ve only ever encountered this style of onion rings at iconic Jewish delis, and it is definitely my favorite.

So that was our first-ever trip to Sarge’s Delicatessen and Diner, but hopefully not our last. There are over 200 items to choose from on that vast and voluminous menu, and I doubt any of them would disappoint. In addition to the deli sandwiches they are probably best known for, Sarge’s offers the usual smoked fish you would hope for from a good appetizing store (nova salmon, salty belly lox, smoked whitefish, and even fancy smoked sturgeon and sable, plus multiple varieties of herring), a full breakfast menu, hot dogs and burgers, all kinds of diner classics, and even beer, wine, and liquor. If you’re looking for comfort food in Manhattan and want to enjoy it in actual comfort, as opposed to the tumult of Katz’s, Sarge’s is the place for you. Tell ’em The Saboscrivner sent ya… and they’ll have no idea what you’re taking about!

The Taproom at Dubsdread

I moved to Orlando almost 20 years ago, the day after Thanksgiving in 2004, so I feel a bit like a local. I like to think I know the best places to eat, even though there are always new hotspots and a handful of old classics I have yet to visit. One of them, one of the oldest and most classic Orlando restaurants of all, is The Taproom at Dubsdread (https://taproomatdubsdread.com/), the 100-year-old restaurant at Dubsdread Country Club, nestled between Winter Park and downtown Orlando. I had always heard great things about the food, but I avoided it for the better part of my two decades here, despite loving old, historic restaurants. In a city that isn’t known for its history, you’d think I would have checked it out long before now, but the whole “country club” thing kept me away.

I fully admit to being a bit of a class warrior, taking pride in my middle class origins and silently (or sometimes not so silently) judging and resenting the wealthy. Growing up listening to punk and hip hop and watching the Marx Brothers, the Three Stooges, and “slobs versus snobs” comedies like Trading Places, Caddyshack, and Animal House probably had a lot to do with that. My parents were even more influential on my class consciousness — two career public school teachers who lived simply, refused to spend beyond their means, felt like they had nothing to prove to anyone, and rarely treated themselves to anything. To me, a restaurant at a country club felt like another world I probably wouldn’t be welcome in (and that my parents would probably disapprove of anyway), so I rejected it before it could possibly reject me. I spent all my time in Orlando avoiding the beloved landmark Taproom at Dubsdread until a work colleague and friend who I think the world of invited me to lunch there. I figured this would be my chance to finally check it out and write an unbiased review for my blog. As the guest of a classy, professional woman, I would be less likely to get into trouble with a snooty maitre d’, a judgmental valet, a surly golfer, or a society matron who resembled Margaret Dumont.

And it was a perfectly nice restaurant, much warmer and more welcoming than I expected. If anything, it was a lot less pretentious and highbrow than Hillstone or Seasons 52, those upscale chains. They didn’t even have valet parking, and the hostess and server were really nice.

My colleague ordered the fresh apple and bacon grilled cheese sandwich, which came with Tillamook cheddar, Emmenthaler Swiss, almonds, and fig preserves, plus a side order of fries. It looked really nice, and it inspired me to invite her to the incredible La Femme Du Fromage later on, since I already knew she liked fancy grilled cheese sandwiches.

We must have met for lunch on a Wednesday, since that is the day they offer a chilled lobster and shrimp roll sandwich as a lunch special. I always appreciate a good lobster roll. I had the best one ever twelve years ago at Neptune Oyster in Boston’s North End neighborhood, and I’ve been chasing that high ever since. This one didn’t quite reach those euphoric heights, but it was still really nice and refreshing, served on the traditional split-top bun and served with a side of onion rings — the “good kind,” as far as I’m concerned, with their golden beer battered exterior. So RING THE ALARM, constant readers — you can get a side order of really good onion rings at a country club restaurant, and for only $4! They’re on the menu and everything; I wasn’t like that rube in the commercial who said “Would ya please pass the jelly?”, embarrassing himself at a fancy dinner party, asking Chef for something lowbrow that they normally wouldn’t serve. Great lunch, great company, great restaurant. I thought even my in-laws might like it, and they don’t like most places.

I returned to the Taproom at Dubsdread more recently during Magical Dining Month, when many Orlando restaurants offer a reasonably priced prix fixe menu with a few different appetizer, entrée, and dessert choices to mix and match, where a portion of the final bill goes to help local charities. This time I went for dinner with two very cool friends, a truly glamorous couple who share my love of good food, but we hadn’t had a chance to get together in years. They were great company, as always, and even challenged me to take better food photos than I usually take. We’ll see if their coaching and constructive criticism helped here — you tell me, stalwart Saboscrivnerinos!

We started with bread for the table, which I didn’t know about when I met my colleague for lunch, but now I know… and knowing is half the battle. The bread was like ciabatta, and the butter was whipped for easy spreading, which I always appreciate. Nobody likes frozen butter that can’t be spread!
Being true foodies, we shared everything throughout this magical meal.

These were buffalo shrimp (not mine), served with some celery sticks. I forgot if the dip was bleu cheese or ranch, but the shrimp were nice, with a slightly crunchy exterior and that mild acidity you get from buffalo sauce.

These were Italian meatballs (also not mine), but the owner was very generous and willing to share. I would have been happy to have meatballs like this over a bowl of pasta or in a sub, and I liked that the tomato sauce was chunky and not watery.

I ordered house-made potato chips topped with crumbled bleu cheese, scallions, and balsamic glaze, a delicious dish that was perfect for sharing. The chips were crunchy, not limp, overly greasy, or even overly salty. Of course, balsamic glaze makes everything better, and I’ve really gotten into bleu cheese lately.

For our entrees, someone ordered a bone-in pork chop that looked good:

And two of us, myself included, ordered prime rib. I like my steaks and prime rib RARE, and I was thrilled that the Taproom at Dubsdread took me seriously. Too many places blast a beautiful piece of meat far beyond rare because they don’t believe us and think we’ll send it back for being underdone. Nope, this is how I like it, especially with lots of creamy horseradish sauce for dipping — the more fiery and sinus-clearing, the better. The mashed potatoes scooped beneath were pretty nondescript. They could have used sour cream and/or cream cheese, bits of the potato skin, onions, or something else to liven them up, but sliding them around in the meat drippings helped resuscitate them a little.

The late, great Russell Jones, aka Big Baby Jesus, aka Dirt McGirt, aka Ol’ Dirty Bastard, famously warbled, “Oh baby, I like it RAAAAAAW!” Well, this prime rib was rare rather than raw, and oh baby, that’s how I like it.

It was time for dessert! I did not order this brownie sundae, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, and whipped cream served over a warm brownie, but it looked really good. How can you go wrong with something like this?

Two of us opted for the key lime pie, which is always one of my favorite desserts, and the Taproom makes an excellent version. The very smooth, shiny topping was more tart than the rest of the creamy filling below, and I loved it. I go nuts for citrus desserts that are sweet and creamy but also tart, and too often, bakers are afraid to go tart enough.

So I would definitely recommend the Taproom at Dubsdread for a nice lunch or dinner, whether you’re some kind of jet-setting big shot with a sweater tied around your neck or an anti-establishment outsider who wants to subvert every dominant paradigm you’ve ever encountered. I’m glad I finally realized that a country club restaurant could be perfectly pleasant, without running into unpleasant stock characters from old-timey slapstick flicks or ’80s comedies from boomer filmmakers. And enjoying two meals with friends didn’t make me part of any System, so I still feel like the cool(?), nonconformist iconoclast I will always be.

Sourdough Bread House

Hey, I guess I still write this blog! It has been a while, but I really want to spread the good word about Sourdough Bread House (https://www.sourdoughbreadhouse.com/), tucked away in an easy-to-miss spot on State Road 17-92 in Casselberry, alongside the flyover that bridges State Road 436. This lovely Turkish café sits in the shadow of a mostly-abandoned shopping center that used to house Bed Bath and Beyond and Staples, although both closed in the last year or two. I live in Casselberry, which often feels exactly like the “chain restaurant hell” that I promise my readers Orlando really isn’t, but that’s why small, locally owned and operated restaurants like Sourdough Bread House need our support and love, because that’s what they share with the community.

I had been popping in for years to buy the occasional large, round, dense loaf of perfect sourdough bread, which is always a big hit in our house.

Whether you use it for savory sandwiches or sweet spreads, it is some of the best bread you can buy in the Orlando area, and some of the best sourdough I’ve ever had anywhere. They serve it with sour cherry preserves at the restaurant, which you can also buy in jars, and we have done that too!

But beyond the bread, my wife and I recently started eating the occasional late breakfast or early lunch at Sourdough Bread House, and I had to shout about these wonderful meals from the virtual rooftops.

We might be Xennials, those sad, rootless kids who don’t fit in as either Generation X or Millennials, but my wife sure is a sucker for avocado toast when it shows up on breakfast menus. And while it is the easiest thing to make at home, I already mentioned the namesake sourdough bread at Sourdough Bread House cannot be missed. The huge, thick, lightly toasted slice comes slathered with avocado, shredded mozzarella cheese, halved grape tomatoes, arugula, olive oil, and pomegranate molasses — a wonderful recent discovery of mine that can be used for many of the same purposes for which you’d use balsamic glaze. My wife isn’t into tomatoes, so I got those, but she loved everything else. She added on a single perfectly fried, over-easy egg for some extra protein.

Keep in mind you can get more traditional American breakfast items here too, including French toast (sourdough, of course) and pancakes, but because the owners are Turkish, they serve beef bacon rather than traditional pork bacon.

Me being me, I have a hard time saying no to sandwiches and combination platters, so I went for the cold meat plate, which was quite the funky cold meat plate. I got two huge slices of toasted sourdough bread cut into four equal pieces, and they were topped with roast beef, pastrami, smoked turkey, and beef bacon — all cold, as promised. I think roast beef and turkey sandwiches are perfect blank slates that can be magical hot or cold. Pastrami is almost always served hot at delis, but I didn’t mind it at all being served cold here, just like good revenge. And while bacon is also usually served hot, I loved the cold beef bacon the most of all four meats. (It’s the one with the beautiful streaks of marbling in the bottom left below.) I think if it was served hot, I would have missed out on the subtlety of the textures and flavors. My hot take is that regular porky bacon is sometimes a bit overrated because it can be rubbery or burnt to a crisp, but this beautiful, beguiling beef bacon hit different. I’m guessing most people haven’t tried it yet, so now’s your chance — run, don’t walk. Finally, the small white dish above was a side order of a Turkish sausage called soudjouk, which ended up being kind of like sliced pepperoni, but made of beef instead of pork. The beef bacon was still the king of this platter.While all four of these open-faced mini-sandwiches would have benefitted from a swipe of good mustard (and you can guess I have quite a collection at home, being a maven of mustard with my Cutting the Mustard reviews), I was able to add a schmear of ezme to them — the stuff in the tiny black dish above. It is a Turkish dip made of tomatoes, bell peppers, and spicier peppers, and I really love it on any Turkish restaurant menu. It also came with a teeny-tiny side of fruit — a few wee chunks of honeydew melon and a single piece of pineapple (in the small white dish in the bottom right above).

We returned about a week later, and this time my wife ordered the quinoa salad, with mixed greens, quinoa (of course), cubed avocado, dried apricots, and curried sunflower seeds. It is dressed with olive oil, pomegranate molasses, dried dill (an herb she likes more than I do), oregano, and of course, a slice of sourdough bread.

Here’s a close-up of the lovely salad. I’m not the biggest quinoa fan in the world, but my wife loves it, and so does one of my favorite filmmakers and creative people, a man with a nightmarish imagination but the most wholesome personality ever, the pride of Missoula, Montana, the legendary David Lynch. Here’s a video of him making quinoa that always brings me joy. I could listen to him tell stories and make quinoa all day.

My wife added on a side order of delicious smoked salmon, which we both love. This was like typical cold-smoked nova salmon, the kind you’d get at a bagel bakery, appetizing store, or most supermarkets. It is one of my favorite things to eat in the world.

And I’m a simple man, so I got a breakfast sandwich with two eggs, cheddar cheese, and beef bacon on sourdough (natch), because I had been thinking about that beef bacon since our previous visit.I had a few thoughts about this sandwich, because of course I do:
1. It was good, BUT…
2. I like American cheese much more than cheddar on breakfast sandwiches with egg and a salty meat.
3. The beef bacon was good hot, but I like it even better served cold.
4. It desperately needed an acidic ingredient to balance the salt and fat — ideally mustard and/or something spicy! (I saved half to finish at home, where you can bet I “plussed it up.”)
5. This bread would have been better toasted, grilled, or pressed like a panini. (And yes, I toasted that other half.)

But aside from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play? No, I kid, I kid, it was good! We live close to the Sourdough Bread House, so we’re going to become regulars, either popping in for takeout or just bread or enjoying a leisurely late breakfast, since my workdays start later now. This is a real treasure, especially in Casselberry, where any truly interesting, unique, singular restaurants usually don’t last long because the locals seem to prefer fast food and familiar chains. Trust me — this is worthy of a longer drive from elsewhere around Orlando, and you won’t be sorry! I just hope you like sourdough bread, but even on the off chance you don’t, you would still probably find something wonderful on the menu.

Mazzaro’s Italian Market (St. Petersburg)

Mazzaro’s Italian Market (https://www.mazzarosmarket.com/), located in mainland St. Petersburg, Florida (not on St. Pete Beach) is to me what Walt Disney World is to most people — a land of magic and wonders, an expensive way to have a grand time, and if not the happiest place on Earth, then one of the happiest places in Florida for sure.

The market is huge — not quite as large as a Publix-style supermarket, or even as big as the two-story Eataly in Chicago, but much larger than Orlando’s beloved Stasio’s Italian Deli and Market or even the new D’Amico & Sons Italian Market and Bakery. (Honestly, I enjoy it so much more than the very corporate and bougie Eataly.) It seems to sprawl on forever, with a wine room, a cheese room, a cafe, a gelato area, counters for freshly made sandwiches, deli meats and cheese sliced to order, hot prepared foods, fresh pasta, and this scenic bakery to your left when you enter, where everything is made from scratch, like almost everything else in Mazzaro’s. It is always crowded, so you’ll have to jostle your way through the narrow, mazelike aisles. Midwesterners, prepare to say “Ope!” a lot, while New Yawkers might prefer “Eyyy, I’m walkin’ here!”

Back in 2022, my wife chose this simple cannoli from the bakery, with the crispy-crunchy pastry shell piped full of rich, sweet cream and dipped into crushed pistachios.

This was a gorgeous sfogliatelle, a delicate shell-shaped pastry made of dozens of crispy layers of dough, with cream in the middle (usually a bit lemony), dusted with powdered sugar so it looks more like it came from Miami than St. Petersburg. Luckily, one can get sfogliatelle in Orlando now, at Stasio’s or D’Amico & Sons, but on a rare pilgrimage to Mazzaro’s, you have to try everything you can. One of my favorite food-related activities is “Dare… To Compare!”, and this pastry shell will make you yell “Shell yeah!”

Hilariously, my wife calls sfogliatelle “schmuckatelli.” I could listen to her say that all day.

I don’t even remember what this thing was! Some sort of fruity center, for sure.

Heck, we brought these two sugar-topped beauties home with us last month, and I don’t remember what they were either!

My wife is a sucker for a good New York style black and white cookie, which are more like cake when done right, with the slightest hint of lemon underneath the rich, shiny icing. This one, from our most recent visit last month, was as good as any we’ve gotten from New York bagel shops, bakeries, and delis.

As I said, Mazzaro’s is almost always crowded, but never moreso on Fridays or Saturdays, where everyone feels packed in like a certain tinned fish I love. That may be a reason the store seems so large, because it takes so long to traverse and even longer to take it all in. When you finally make it past the bakery, weaving through equally overwhelmed shoppers experiencing sensory overload in that maze of shelves for non-perishable groceries, you will find yourself faced with a plethora of options for fresh pasta, prepared foods, and deli sandwiches.

Here are just a few of the fresh filled pastas to choose from, which you can order by the pound.

There is a large refrigerated case with more handmade pasta already rationed and weighed in convenient containers.

I’ve never ordered any of the prepared foods because I’m always just passing through, but if you lived locally, you could easily take care of dinner for a single person, a couple, a small family, or even a big party. Yes, for those in the St. Pete area, Mazzaro’s caters as well, and I have to imagine you would be the host with the most or the hostess with the mostest if you brought in their fine fare.

My wife doesn’t share my obsession with Italian subs or sandwiches in general, so on our 2022 trip, she ordered this pair of lobster and seafood rolls from the deli counter. She prefers lobster rolls served warm with butter (Connecticut style), whereas I prefer them served cold with mayo and a little bit of diced celery for crunch (Maine style), and that’s what these were. I ended up eating the vast majority of these, which was fine with me. On our return in 2024, she remembered this was not the way (at least not for her), so she ordered a grilled caprese sandwich, with tomato, fresh basil, fresh mozzarella, and pesto spread on grilled Italian bread, and devoured it with gusto on Mazzaro’s covered patio, despite not liking fresh tomatoes or sandwiches that much. I didn’t even get a photo of it!

This is Mazzaro’s tried-and-true #1 from our 2022 visit: ham, Genoa salami, capicola, mortadella, provolone cheese, Romaine lettuce, tomatoes, onion, roasted peppers, Italian slaw, and oil and vinegar on fresh-baked Italian bread from a wood-fired oven. It’s a magnificent Italian sub, and I say that with pride and authority, since an Italian sub may just be my favorite meal (and is definitely my favorite sandwich).The Italian slaw is no joke, adding a tangy, vinegary crunch to the sub. More places should experiment with different kinds of cabbage slaw on sandwiches.

I had to get another #1 when we returned in 2024, and I asked for this one on a softer hoagie roll to try it a little different. I actually preferred it this way, because my one minor complaint about Mazzaro’s sandwiches is that sometimes the bread is a little burnt on the outside (see above).

If you recognize our familiar plates from dozens of takeout reviews, it’s because I always order these sandwiches and bring them home with me, rather than do the two and a half hour drive on a full stomach. I will enjoy them more in the comfort of my own home, and it gives the intense flavors time to marry and marinate. Usually I bring a cooler when I know I’ll be stopping by Mazzaro’s.

And I can’t go to Mazzaro’s without also ordering a #7 for later. This sandwich is both beauty and beast, with prosciutto di Parma, sweet soppressata, hot capicola, marinated sun-dried tomatoes (one of my favorite ingredients in sandwiches, salads, and sauces), and fresh mozzarella on a ciabatta roll. Both the #1 and #7 sandwiches taste even better after a drive back to Orlando and a night in the fridge.

Here’s my latest #7 from our most recent visit in July 2024. The outside of the ciabatta roll was overdone, but the interior ingredients are so good, the sandwich couldn’t possibly be ruined.

I also brought home three different, interesting salumi, so we could have a little salami as a treat: a bison salami from Angel’s Salumi & Truffles (no truffles for us, though!), a venison, pork, and pinot noir salami from Driftless Provisions, and a “bonfire cider” salami from Short Creek Farms (which I don’t see on their website, so here are all the salami).

The one disappointment for me, even though it sounded like a can’t-miss delicacy, were these prosciutto “chips,” made in house by Mazzaro’s. Prosciutto might be my favorite meat ever, and it is definitely one of the finest things you can make out of pork. However, a major part of its appeal is getting it sliced paper-thin so it almost melts in your mouth, with a pleasant chewiness. These crispy, crunchy strips lost that experience, although fans of crunchy bacon might like them more than I did.

I could have run amok a lot more on this most recent visit, but the relentlessly hangry crowds seriously stress out my poor wife. I resolved to go without her next time, whether I’m coming or going from St. Pete, so I can linger longer without guilt and she can be spared the entire hectic experience.

As much as I appreciate the Italian markets in and around Orlando, there is nothing like a trip to Mazzaro’s, which is why I’ve been recommending it to St. Petersburg locals and tourists alike for years (and even recommending Orlando denizens consider it for a day trip, because it is that rad). Heck, I wish I could pop over there right now, but I’m writing this on a Sunday evening, and it wouldn’t be open anyway. For such a popular place, they have pretty limited hours, so review them in advance so you don’t schlep over there and end up disappointed:

Mon-Fri: 9am-5pm
Saturday: 9am-2:30pm
Sunday: Closed

And if you’re already a “Mazzaro’s Adult” (not quite the same as a Disney Adult, am I right?), let me know what your can’t-miss favorites are for my next visit, whenever that might be.

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.

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.

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!

Isan Zaap Thai Cafe

For years, I had been hearing my friends rave about Isan Zaap Thai Cafe (https://isanzaaporlando.com/), unfortunately a little far from home for me, but moments away from another Thai restaurant my wife and I love very much, Naradeva Thai. You could seriously eat a big meal at one, then still comfortably walk to the other for another meal, they are that close. But I don’t recommend doing that.

I do, however, recommend Isan Zaap, and I’m not the only one. Michelin, that tire company that doubles as a restaurant critic organization, awarded Isan Zaap Thai Cafe one of its coveted Bib Gourmand awards, for “good quality, good value cooking,” joining some of Orlando’s finest establishments. So if you don’t trust your friendly neighborhood Saboscrivner’s recommendations by now, you can rely on the Michelin Guide, known for its completely unbiased judging.

While Naradeva’s dining room has a serene wilderness vibe, Isan Zaap is more of a modern dining space. Their menus are very different as well. I do not pretend to be an expert on Thai food, but I know they represent different regions of Thailand, with Isan Zaap covering Isan, the Northeastern region of Thailand (similar to another local Thai restaurant, Mee Thai). According to Isan Zaap’s website, Isan cuisine includes fresh herbs and spices, multiple proteins, and fermented ingredients, which makes sense, because I enjoyed a lot of funky, pungent flavors in the dishes I tried.

On my first visit in late January, I brought a friend with me who I always run into whenever I do anything cool and fun around town. Whether it’s a concert, a stand-up comedy show, or a comic book convention, this dude is always there with his finger on the pulse of all things cool and good. We were both riding high after attending a comic art show where I met my all-time favorite artist, so I chose Isan Zaap as a way to prolong the good feelings and rare chance to hang out.

I started my meal with a refreshing, sweet, slightly smoky Thai iced tea. It was so good, I wanted to gulp it all down, but I knew I would want to save it to cut the heat of whatever food I ordered.

I decided to order larb for the first time ever, after remembering young Peter Parker and his smokin’ hot Aunt May (played by Marisa Tomei) riffing about larb in Spider-Man: Homecoming. I don’t think they ever explained what larb was in that scene, but it sounded right up my alley, with minced pork, pork skin, pork liver, and “seasoning” with lime juice, herbs, and roasted rice powder. I asked for it with medium heat, but boy, was it spicy. I have gotten used to ordering Indian dishes hot, but I eat Thai food so infrequently, medium felt just hot enough. Man, was this some luscious larb! Listed under the “Salads” on the menu, it was so bright and tangy, sour and spicy, crunchy and funky, and surprisingly cool and refreshing, while spicy enough to make my lips tingle. It was served chilled, with thin slices of onion, finely shredded carrot, cucumbers, and lots of mint, and it exceeded all my expectations with its blend of flavors and textures. I was a little surprised the larb did not come with rice, but what do I know? Anyway, it made me a larb lover for life.

Because I’m me and I just can’t help myself, I ordered a second dish, figuring I would try it there and finish the rest at home: my go-to favorite that I like to try at every Thai restaurant, stir-fried drunken noodles, also known as pad kee mao (or sometimes pad kee mow). These are wide, flat, chewy rice noodles sautéed with onions, red and green bell peppers, basil leaves, and a protein (I chose squid, which was a little rubbery, but still tasty), in a sweet and spicy sauce. I asked for this dish medium as well, and it also brought a pleasant amount of heat.

My friend chose excellent-looking pad Thai with tofu, another dish you can never go wrong with. He let me try a bite, which had the nice sweet-and-sour tanginess I always enjoy in pad Thai. I made a mental note of it, because my wife loves this dish, and I definitely wanted to return with her.

It was a great lunch and a great hang. I went home and talked about this meal for damn near three weeks before my wife and I finally made it back to Isan Zaap together, again for lunch on a weekend. We both ordered Thai iced coffees this time, which I liked even more than the Thai iced tea. (I almost never drink tea or coffee, but this just goes to show you that if you put sweetened condensed milk in anything, I will consume it.)

My wife ordered pad Thai, as I figured she would. She got it mild and chose mixed seafood for her protein. It came with shrimp, squid, and mussels in the half shell, which she was kind enough to share with me, because I notoriously love mussels and she is ambivalent about those bivalves. She liked it, and as usual with her, she got two meals out of the dish.

I chose two things again on this trip, figuring we would share them both. This is a picture of half our order of grilled pork neck, which looked and smelled so good that I uncharacteristically devoured half of it before remembering to take a picture. It was a very pretty plate of thin slices of perfectly grilled, marinated, tender pork, accompanied by pretty shredded carrots and cabbage on the side and a very spicy Isan dipping sauce that I loved and she wanted nothing to do with. The grilled pork neck did not come with rice or anything else, so it might not be the most filling dish for a single hungry person. I would definitely recommend it to share with a group, though — or if someone is avoiding carbs and just wants delicious lean protein.

I also thought we would both enjoy the chef’s special dish of crab fried rice, after noticing so many crab dishes on the menu. Again, I ate the vast majority of this, even though it was not spicy or intimidating in any way. It was solid fried rice, but there wasn’t a lot in it aside from eggs, garlic, a little basil, and the lump crabmeat on top. I certainly enjoyed it, but next time I will order something more unique and unfamiliar, that’s for sure!

Unlike our first visit, this time our server brought us a container of four tins of seasonings to spoon onto our food: chilli, sugar, vinegar, and fish sauce. I used a little bit of the chilli (just a red powder) and a splash of vinegar to jazz up the fried rice, but I did not want to overwhelm any of the flavors. I know the sugar is meant to cut the heat, but the spiciest thing I had at this second meal was the Isan dipping sauce with the sliced pork neck.

Last, but certainly not least, I ordered another dish to bring home and enjoy later: the pork liver larb, served chilled and tossed in the same spicy, sour dressing with toasted rice powder, shredded carrot and cabbage, sliced cucumbers, and more herbs on top. This time I made jasmine rice in my Aroma rice cooker to go with the larb, which may be completely inauthentic, but it worked for me. I love liver in all its forms, and the pork liver was rich and intense in that offal (but not awful) way, and tender enough to almost melt in my mouth. It might have been my favorite component of that original larb dish I tried, but I found myself missing the additional textures and flavors of the ground pork and pork skin in the “O.G.” larb. Again, you live and you learn, or at least I do! As always, I appreciated that Isan Zaap packed my takeout larb in one of those great plastic containers with a clear, locking lid. These are microwave-safe AND dishwasher-safe, and if you think I keep a collection of them, you’d be right as rain.

So Isan Zaap Thai Cafe was really wonderful after both of my visits, and it ignited my newfound interest in Thai food. I’ve been to a few other Thai restaurants in Orlando, and a longtime favorite closed in 2023, but I am excited that there is so much more to learn about and experiment with. I’m no tire company, but I can tell you that Isan Zaap is definitely worth all the hype and praise, whether you eat Thai food all the time or just dabble occasionally, as I do. I don’t know how often I will make it back to this restaurant, but Isan Zaap serves some of the best Thai food I’ve ever had, and not just in Orlando either. If you know, you know, and if you don’t, then what are you waiting for?

Philippe the Original (Los Angeles)

On my second trip to Los Angeles for work, I caught a Lyft ride at the airport and went straight to another famous, historic L.A. restaurant, luggage and all, before even checking in at my hotel or reporting to work. I had done my research like any good librarian, so I planned to go to Philippe the Original (https://www.philippes.com/), the inventors of the French dipped sandwich. Founded in 1908, Philippe the Original has probably changed very little over the decades. The prices have surely gone up in the past century and change, but not nearly as much as you would think.

You order and pay at the counter, and then the very patient servers assemble you a tray, cafeteria-style, while doubling as cashiers. I miss cafeteria-style restaurants. We went to a bunch when I was a kid, from Morrison’s in the mall to the old K-Mart cafeteria, but you don’t see this much anymore, aside from some casual Latin restaurants like Orlando’s Lechonera El Barrio. Philippe the Original also has a diner feel to it, since it also serves breakfast (and Los Angeles is a big diner city). But I was not here for breakfast, dear readers. Oh no, I was a man with a shopping list. With an agenda, even.

The main draw is the French-dipped sandwiches, which come on a delicious French roll. You can also get them on white, wheat, rye, or sourdough bread, but please don’t do this. You can get the sandwiches single-dipped, double-dipped, or “wet” in au jus, so I opted for a single dip as a first-timer, with an extra ramekin of jus on the side for this Jew. You can choose between sliced beef, pork, lamb, New York pastrami, ham, or turkey, and even though I’m sure you can’t go wrong with any of those, I had a hard time choosing. I asked, fully expecting to be told no, if I could get two kinds of meat on my sandwich, and the nice lady said of course! I couldn’t get half the roll with one and the other half with the other meat, but I could definitely get two different meats stacked upon each other. Now we were talking! I asked what she recommended, and she said of the six, she would narrow it down to beef, lamb, and pastrami. Now, I already had plans to meet friends at one of L.A.’s most iconic deli institutions, so I figured I would save the pastrami for that later meal. Beef and lamb for the win! I also added on bleu cheese, which pairs so well with red meat, but rarely makes an appearance in sandwiches and even less often as a thick slice. It got surprisingly melty on there, between the warm roll, hot meat, and hot jus. You can see the light brown lines in the cross-section of this roll above the cheese, and that is where they dipped the roll in the jus. This was a huge, thick, hearty sandwich. The beef and lamb were both very tender, but I preferred whichever one was sliced thinner (the beef, I think, which surprised me, since I always gravitate toward lamb when it is an option). That purpley-pink thing in the corner was a pickled egg, one of many accoutrements I ordered with my two-meat sandwich, fished out of a big jar on the counter. I couldn’t resist! It was so vinegary and tangy and good. I love pickled eggs, but never thought to employ beet juice when I make my own at home. Now I know… and knowing is half the battle!

Believe it or not, Los Angeles is a big chili city. Angelenos love putting chili on hot dogs and burgers and serving it in diners, so I figured the meat-centric Philippe the Original would serve a good cup of chili. They did. Like everything else, it was pretty classic — no frills, not fancy, just mildly spicy, and of course they knew better than to add beans. If you imagine a cup of chili from a diner, you’ve got it. It might not win any awards in the Terlingua Chili Cookoff, but this is quintessential L.A. chili. And to me, that makes it quintessential American chili.

Like any classic diner or cafeteria, Philippe the Original also had a refrigerated glass case full of tempting pies, cakes, baked apples (talk about old-school!), and prepared salads: cole slaw, macaroni and potato salad. As much as I would have loved to try all three of those, I was already going a little wild.

I chose the macaroni salad, which normally edges out potato salad for me, and I chose wisely. It was a simple, mayo-based macaroni salad with a slight crunch from celery (or green bell pepper?) and a tangy sweetness. It reminded me of a macaroni salad you would get at a mid-century lunch counter, maybe in a drugstore or even a department store. I miss those places too, and they were already 99% phased out by the time I was a kid in the ’80s.

Each table had a squeeze bottle of a relatively thin, horseradish-heavy hot mustard, that I applied to my wonderful beef, lamb, and bleu cheese sandwich after taking a few unadorned bites as a control. It was an excellent mustard that complemented the rich, salty, juicy sandwich perfectly. I noticed they sell it in bottles, but as much as I would have loved to bring one home, I do not check bags, and I knew TSA would confiscate it. Regular readers know my obsession with mustards and other condiments (such as my Cutting the Mustard reviews), but at least I got to try it in the restaurant.

Also, I got the most delightful little glass of lemonade for something like 95 cents. When I saw the price, I didn’t know how big the glass would be, but it was wee. I guess this is like portion sizes were like back in the day, before Big Gulps and whatnot. Really refreshing lemonade, though, especially after all that salty food and waking up at 4 AM for a flight.

I might have looked like a big weirdo, wheeling my roll-aboard bag through Philippe the Original, but I knew it would have to be my first stop in L.A. or I wouldn’t be able to make it back later. I’m so glad I did, because it was truly awesome. It lived up to all the hype I had read online, to say nothing of passing mentions and sightings in L.A.-based TV shows like Bosch. I love these historic restaurants that have been doing the same thing for decades, sometimes lasting a century or more, because they are that damn good. Los Angeles is full of them, and I look forward to exploring more on future work trips (and eventually getting around to reviewing everything from this last visit). If you appreciate a good French dip sandwich, try to make a pilgrimage to the creator some day. The originator, the O.G. — Philippe the Original.