Seafood – Page 3 – The Saboscrivner

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.!

Chain Reactions: Sixty Vines

Sixty Vines (https://www.sixtyvines.com/) is a nice chain restaurant with 13 locations around the country, including one in Winter Park and one in the Dr. Phillips area of Orlando. It serves “wine country inspired-cuisine paired perfectly with 60 wines on our sustainable tap system.” Unfortunately, my wife and I are non-drinkers, so we couldn’t take advantage of the vast assortment of wines from around the world. But the food was all quite good on all three of my visits with my wife, who had discovered it earlier and dined there once before, with a friend. I’ve never been to the Sonoma Valley in my California travels, but that’s what I believe Sixty Vines is going for.

For our first of three romantic meals there, my wife started us out with house-made ricotta cheese, which came with little bucket bouquets of flatbread, roasted marcona almonds, and honey with the chewy, waxy comb included.

Here’s a close-up of the cow milk ricotta, served with olive oil that contributed to the silky, whipped, lush richness and topped with fresh-cracked black pepper that did a spectacular job cutting the richness a bit. We both agreed this was the nicest ricotta we’ve ever had, and it would have been too good to just use in baked ziti or lasagna, where stronger flavors would have overpowered it.

We got the ricotta again on our second visit, and it was just as good:

On our most recent visit, she switched it up and got the Cowgirl Creamery Mt Tam, which is a triple cream brie-style cheese with a “bloomy rind,” named after Mount Tamalpais in Marin County, California. As much as I like cheese, I’ve never been into earthy, funky, sticky brie, so I didn’t even mess with this one. Plus, the portion is very small, and I even joked “Brie?! More like WEE, am I right?” More for her, such as it is.

On our first visit, we decided to get the very bougie-sounding “shared plate” of buttermilk-brined fried chicken topped with dollops of lemon creme fraiche and even tinier dollops of caviar (a indulgence both of us love). The boneless chicken pieces didn’t have much flavor at all, though. That batter desperately needs some herbs and spices, and it doesn’t even have to be eleven! Combining the decadence of fried chicken and caviar is a great idea, one that celebrity chef David Chang definitely approves of, but I’d skip the fried chicken on future visits to Sixty Vines and advise others to do the same.

On our second and third visits, we got the bacon-wrapped, oven-roasted dates, which was appropriate because we were on dates. I love dates and balsamic glaze, and these were perfect little bites of food. They only give you three in an order, but I could have eaten about 30 of these. I have a problem.

Extreme close-up of the dates from a different visit. Dates taste more like caramel than fruit to me, with a sticky, chewy texture to match. These are just perfect in every way, with the crackly, crisp, rich smokiness of the bacon, the chewy, rich sweetness of the dates, and the sweet, sticky acidity of the balsamic glaze. This is a decadent, sexy dish for sure.

The grilled golden beets are another good appetizer at Sixty Vines, and for some reason, The Golden Beets also sounds like a good name for a Japanese wrestling tag team. I discovered I love beets just last year, and now I’m making up for lost time! It just never occurred to me to try them before, but I love their earthy sweetness… or is it sweet earthiness?

These beets arrive sliced on a bed of whipped feta, cheese, topped with crushed, toasted pistachios, and are drizzled with an apricot vinaigrette dressing that is divine.

My wife also loves Sixty Vines’ house salad, comprised of spring mix, candied walnuts, fresh strawberries, paper-thin shavings of peppered pecorino romano cheese, and citrus honey vinaigrette. I make salads at home and eat them almost every day for lunch, but she has no interest in the salads I make. But this house salad is a bit more decadent than my salads, with fewer odd pickled things but plenty of ingredients she loves.

On a recent weekend, I picked up a house salad for my wife to enjoy in the comfort of home. I am pleased to say that they were happy to take my order and did not threaten to call the police, like other semi-upscale Winter Park restaurants (right across the street from Sixty Vines) have been known to do when people request salads to go.

Since that was going to be her lunch, I added on smoked salmon so it could be more of a full meal for her. It’s a $15 upcharge(!), but at least they were generous with it. Just so you know, it is hot-smoked salmon added in chunks and flakes, not the thin-sliced nova salmon you’d find at an appetizing store to put on bagels.

Between the citrus honey vinaigrette on the house salad and the apricot vinaigrette that came with the Golden Beets, they definitely do vinaigrette dressings right at Sixty Vines. I wish they bottled the dressings for all the sad salads I make for myself, but I’d also put them on sandwiches, pasta salads, raw veggies… pretty much anything. They are so fresh and tangy and sweet, and they really make vegetables sing.

For her entrée on our first visit together, my wife chose the fig and prosciutto pizza, which came topped with white sauce, mozzarella, honey, arugula, and sesame seeds (in addition to fresh figs and paper-thin sliced prosciutto).

After my wife’s first visit to Sixty Vines with a friend, she had told me about how much she loved the pan-seared rainbow trout. She was torn between ordering the trout again and getting that pizza, so she chose the new thing. She liked it (and I liked the slice she insisted I try), but she said she would go back to the trout when we returned.

And on our next visit together (the aforementioned date with the dates), she did! The pan-seared rainbow trout comes with snap peas, pickled fennel, lemon-dill aioli, and marcona almond gremolata.

Trout! Trout! Let it all out! This is a fish she can’t do without!

For our most recent visit, they actually changed the rainbow trout dish completely, to include green lentil ragout, coconut-vadouvan curry, orange, scallion, and cilantro! They do change the menu every so often, but that didn’t sound as good of a combination to her, so she switched it up.

This was the filet mignon, cooked to a perfect rare and served with roasted winter squash, toasted walnuts, shallots, and fig-balsamic reduction. She loved it, and I thought the couple of bites she shared with me were damn delicious. Believe it or not, I don’t eat a lot of steak, and especially not filets, but this was magnificent.
It should not have surprised me that a wine-centric restaurant is so good with vinegars, but the sweet fig-balsamic complemented the buttery soft, tender filet perfectly.

I am a simple man with simple pleasures, and for my first visit, I figured a nice, semi-upscale restaurant like Sixty Vines would hopefully serve a good, juicy burger, rather than the smashburgers that are so popular right now. I love a good smashburger, but it feels like it’s getting harder to find a thick and juicy burger in Orlando, especially with The Whiskey so far away from us.

I chose the double cabernet burger, with cabernet smothered patties, white cheddar cheese, caramelized onions, worcestershire mayo, and tomato on a potato bun, served with crispy fingerling potatoes. The potatoes were fine, especially with ketchup, but the burger was one of the best I’ve had anywhere in a long time (along with smashburgers from Cow & Cheese and Smokemade Meats + Eats and a thicker burger at a hipster place in L.A. I haven’t reviewed yet).

I thought about that burger for a long time afterwards, and I argue it is one of the better burgers in Orlando. I liked it so much that I ordered it again on our second visit, even though I usually challenge myself to try different things. But it’s so juicy, and they cooked it to a perfect medium rare both times, and all the toppings work together in perfect harmony. I’m guessing the cabernet is a reduction of some kind, but between that, the caramelized onions, and the worcestershire mayo, there is a lot of umami richness and tangy-sweet acidity going on.

I finally moved away from the double cabernet burger on our third visit. As much as I love raw, smoked, cured, and even tinned fish, I don’t eat a lot of regular cooked fish, and I want to eat more of it in 2025. I chose the seared halibut, which came with roasted asparagus, crispy prosciutto, and bites of fingerling potatoes in a sea of smoked tomato butter.

It was another decadent dish and a big hit. The halibut was seasoned and cooked beautifully, and it was tender enough to cut with just my fork. It melted in my mouth. I highly recommend this dish, and I would get it again, just for the halibut.

We were too full to get dessert after our first visit, but on our second visit, we shared this olive oil citrus cake with sweet whipped mascarpone cheese. Olive oil cake might sound a little odd, but like everything else at Sixty Vines, it is top-notch. (And if you ever have a chance to try it, olive oil gelato is delicious too!) When it comes to desserts, my favorites involve citrus or tropical fruit, while my wife gravitates toward anything chocolatey, so she surprised me by requesting this. I was more than happy to go along with it, and it was a great choice. She got the same olive oil cake again on our third, most recent visit. That’s how much she liked it!

When I brought home the to-go salad with smoked salmon, she had also mentioned wanting to try the orange morning bread from Sixty Vines’ weekend brunch menu, so I made sure to order it too. The order included five brown butter cinnamon bites (larger than golf balls), and they included little ramekins of citrus icing and crushed candied walnuts with a “coffee crumble.” We both thought these would have been better at the restaurant, where they are served warm in a basket, and your server pours the citrus icing and the crushed, crumbled stuff over them. But the citrus icing was pretty great.

So that’s Sixty Vines, which is probably my wife’s favorite restaurant in Winter Park, and possibly in the entire metro Orlando area. I fully admit I would never have gone on my own because it seemed:
1.) Wine-centric, and neither of us drink,
2.) Semi-upscale, which is generally not my thing, and
3.) A “chick place” — a restaurant aimed more at female diners than male.

But whenever my wife wants to do something or go somewhere, I always try to oblige to make her happy, and I’m glad we went. After three times dining in and one time bringing home takeout, all in the past two months, I give it the Saboscrivner Seal of Superiority. The double cabernet burger, the house-made ricotta, the Golden Beets, those mouth-watering bacon-wrapped dates, the seared halibut, and the various vinaigrettes are all winners, and I know my wife really liked that pizza and loved the filet mignon and the previous version of the rainbow trout. The only disappointment for both of us was that fried chicken, but luckily, this is Orlando, and there are plenty of places to get fried chicken, even if they aren’t topped with caviar.

An Vi

As all Orlando residents know, the vast majority of our Vietnamese restaurants are mostly located together in the Mills 50 district, centered around East Colonial Drive and Mills Avenue, east of downtown Orlando. There are a few more in Orlando’s Chinatown, centered in Pine Hills on West Colonial Drive, west of downtown. A few Vietnamese restaurants have come and gone in the Seminole County suburbs, closer to where The Saboscrivner lives, but they are never fantastic, and they rarely last. So when An Vi (https://www.anvirestaurant.com/) opened relatively close to home in Casselberry (I think in 2023), we hoped for the best. I am pleased to say it did not disappoint after two visits — one for takeout and the second for dining in. Chef-owner Joseph Nguyen and his wife-partner Rose Nguyen opened An Vi after running two Vietnamese restaurants in Seattle, and my favorite city’s loss is our gain.

For our first takeout order, my wife requested lemongrass tofu with rice vermicelli noodles (bun). I didn’t try any, but she loved it.

We ordered shrimp pad Thai noodles to share, since we hadn’t had pad Thai in a long time, and it always hits the spot, even from a Vietnamese restaurant. Especially from this Vietnamese restaurant. I love it when the pad Thai is a little bit tangy, even approaching sour, and An Vi nailed it. Some places make it too sweet, without that acidic tang to balance it out.

We also shared an order of gumbo, that Cajun stew that usually contains shrimp, chicken, andouille sausage, and the “trinity” of onions, celery, and green bell peppers, served in a rich roux thickened with okra and ladled over white rice. If getting gumbo at a Vietnamese restaurant sounds even weirder than getting pad Thai at a Vietnamese restaurant, consider that many Vietnamese immigrants settled along the Gulf Coast in Texas, Louisiana, and Mississippi, and there is a wonderful culinary fusion cuisine called Viet-Cajun. (King Cajun Crawfish is one of several Viet-Cajun restaurants around Orlando that serves this style).
My wife and I both adore good gumbo (although I like mine much spicier than she does), and An Vi’s version did not disappoint either of us.

I am famous for my love of sandwiches, especially banh mi, the Vietnamese sub sandwich that is a product of French colonialism. While the menu teased a ribeye French dip banh mi that sounded amazing, I was told it is no longer available. I chose my standard, a house special pork banh mi, with a few different pork-based cold cuts, pickled carrot and daikon radish, and fresh cilantro and jalapeno peppers served cold on fresh, crusty French bread. It is a surprisingly light and refreshing sandwich, compared to the heavy gut-bomb Italian hoagies and Jewish deli monoliths-on-rye I love so much. I usually like a lot of mayonnaise (usually Kewpie brand) and pork liver pate on my banh mi, but I didn’t notice any on this particular sandwich.

Despite being a bit dry as a result, it was generously stuffed with the various meats and vegetables.

About a month later, we were both hungry on a Friday night and climbing the walls after working from home (and eating at home) all week. I took my wife to dinner at An Vi, since it is so close, and we knew we would get seated and served quickly. My wife always loves summer rolls with peanut sauce at any Vietnamese restaurant, but we almost didn’t order these, since they were called “fresh rolls” (also known as goi cuon) on An Vi’s menu. But when we saw them being walked out to another table, we asked, and she was glad we did.

She ordered a house special vermicelli platter that came with a lot of neat meats in addition to the rice vermicelli, but she didn’t love all of them. Luckily, I did.

It included grilled beef, chicken, and pork sausage skewers, all with a slightly sweet, tangy, and funky flavor from being brushed with fish sauce. There was also sugarcane shrimp, with ground shrimp brushed with fish sauce and reformed around a length of sugarcane before being grilled, and a fried spring roll stuffed with pork. While she liked the vermicelli and all the crushed peanuts, I think the funky fish sauce flavor turned her off these grilled meats, so I happily devoured them. I think I’ll order this exact dish for myself on our next visit to An Vi.

I had a feeling she might not love all those unique meats, so I ordered a fried catfish banh mi sandwich because I wanted to try it, but also because I know my wife always loves fried catfish and might end up preferring it. I was right — it was good, and she loved it. This banh mi almost reminded me more of a New Orleans-style po’ boy sandwich, the way it was dressed without the traditional butter, pate, or pickled vegetables. The side of Cajun fries really hit the spot too.

Since Pho Huong Lan is my absolute, accept-no-substitutes favorite restaurant for pho, I tried the bun bo hue at An Vi instead of pho. Labeled as Hue’s spicy beef soup on the menu, it was warm and refreshing, spicy without being overwhelmingly so. I was so glad I had the foresight to wear an expendable shirt for all the inevitable splashing of the oily orange broth.It was good, but the bun bo hue at Pho Huong Lan still wins.

I ordered a side of French bread (the same bread they use for the banh mi) for dipping in the rich, spicy broth and for eating plain to cut the heat.

I hope An Vi makes it in Casselberry, where too many good restaurants that are considered “exotic” don’t last. While our first impulse when we crave Vietnamese food is still to schlep down to Mills 50, I am glad An Vi is so close to us, and I’m sure we will be ordering plenty of takeout over the cooler months ahead.

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!

Otto’s High Dive

Otto’s High Dive (https://www.ottoshd.com/) opened over a year ago in what I consider Orlando’s best foodie neighborhood, The Milk District. The “neighborhood rum bar” quickly earned a Michelin Bib Gourmand award for “good quality, good value cooking.” It is only open for dinner Tuesday through Saturday, but opens at 11 AM for brunch on Sundays (and is closed Mondays). Because Otto’s serves oysters and other raw seafood plus Cuban food, I had been wanting to try it ever since it opened, but finally made it in there with my wife on a recent Sunday afternoon. Neither of us drink, so we skipped the vast selection of rums and beautiful cocktails, but they looked really great, and I’m sure they were. But we arrived hungry and came to play.

Unfortunately for us, we were seated at one of the tiniest two-top tables I’ve ever seen in a restaurant. Even though we ordered a lot of food, it became a constant balancing act and rearranging game to make everything fit on the tiny table, to the point where plates were perched precariously as I tried to consolidate and stack everything I could. It should have been a relaxing and fun lunch, but the space didn’t really allow for that.

My wife ordered a Coke, and it was cool that they brought an icy-cold bottle of Mexican Coke (made with real sugar rather than high fructose corn syrup) and a glass full of crystal-clear ice cubes with lime wedges.

We started out with the ceviche, with cubes of raw yellowfin tuna, avocado, watermelon, mustard seeds, basil-chili oil, a splash of mezcal, and “leche de tigre.” Don’t worry, it isn’t real tiger’s milk (who would dare to milk a tiger?), but the citrus-based Peruvian marinade that “cooks” the raw fish in ceviche. It usually includes lime juice, onion, different chile peppers, salt, and pepper.

This was the crab salad: beautiful fresh crabmeat, chilled and mixed with avocado, pineapple, and lime, and served with long, thin, crispy plantain chips for spreading and/or dipping.

It was a surprisingly generous portion:

This was the bread platter with slices of Cuban bread (not toasted or grilled or anything) and one little plantain muffin. It was supposed to come with a third thing, but they said they were out of it, so they just left it off. Spreads include whipped, salted butter and guava spread. and I’m sorry I don’t remember the third. Neither of us would bother getting this again.

I was perfectly happy with all the seafood and snacks, but the main reason we finally went to Otto’s was because they serve a 14-ounce chargrilled Prime ribeye steak with a spiced coffee rub, and that sounded amazing to my wife. She ordered it rare, like both of us always order our steaks, and it came out… very much NOT rare. Neither of us like to be “those people” in a restaurant, but it was an expensive steak, so we politely asked to send it back because it wasn’t rare.

At that point, the chef came out of the kitchen and told us that they use a sous vide machine to cook the ribeye, so it should have been rare, but trust me, it wasn’t, and we told him as much. Then he offered to cook the skirt steak rare with the coffee rub so it could take on the flavors she was looking for, since I guess they don’t sous vide that cut. My wife agreed, and she got this huge and lovely coffee-rubbed skirt steak with tostones, white rice, and excellent black beans, plus some pickled onions sliced paper-thin on top that I happily ate.

I didn’t get a good picture of the interior of the skirt steak until we heated up the leftovers at home, but that’s how we like our steaks to look inside.
Sadly, my wife still would have preferred the ribeye done to her satisfaction. That whole exchange shook us both, and even though we didn’t feel great about sending the ribeye back in the first place, a restaurant charging those prices, with a damn Michelin Bib Gourmand award, maybe should not put polite customers on the defensive like that.

This was rich duck fat bordelaise, garlicky chimichurri, and red pepper sofrito that came with the skirt steak. All three were delicious, especially with the Cuban bread.

Being a glutton (as well as a glutton for punishment, apparently), I ordered a side of broccolini, one of my favorite vegetables, which was the seasonal vegetable during our visit. It was charred and topped with a romesco sauce that was really good.

I don’t think Otto’s High Dive has its dessert menu online, so I snapped a photo of it:

We decided on the toasted coconut rum cake, brown butter cake served with coconut lime curd. It was soaked with rum and set ablaze, which is always fun. It was delicious, and we chose wisely here, but I remain curious about the Florida orange tres leches too.

And this was a quesito that I hastily added on. It was a perfectly fine little pastry, but I admit I’ve had better at places like Zaza and Vicky Bakery.

So as if it wasn’t already painfully obvious, The Saboscrivner knows how to party. The food was good to great, but I admit it wasn’t the best time, and I don’t think I’d go back. Maybe Otto’s High Dive would be more fun and less stressful if you’re drinking. Then you might not care if all the plates don’t fit on your table, your steak is overcooked, and the chef gets big mad for politely, diplomatically standing up for yourself. But the place is a big hit, so try it for yourself and see what you think! Or don’t.

Rion’s Ocean Room

I was lucky enough to attend a recent soft opening of Rion’s Ocean Room (https://www.rionsoceanroom.com/), the new Hawaiian poke-by-the-pound establishment owned and operated by Orlando restauranteur Sonny Nguyen, who brought us the high-class ramen joint Domu and swanky izakaya Tori Tori, a standout in the Mills 50 District. Rion’s Ocean Room joins the original Domu in the East End Market, Orlando’s first food hall, a mainstay of the Audubon Park neighborhood and home of other beloved local favorites like La Femme Du Fromage, Hinckley’s Fancy Meats, Dochi, and Gideon’s Bakehouse.

I already love poke (I remain a huge fan of Poke Hana in Mills 50), but I was so excited to get a new poke joint that serves it the way they do in Hawaiian shops and supermarkets — kind of like an ice cream parlor, with all the varieties of fresh raw seafood diced into small cubes and pre-mixed with sauces and other ingredients, on display inside a glass case, ready to be scooped out by the pound. It’s just a counter inside the East End Market food hall — not a restaurant with its own seating, although there are plenty of outdoor tables. Rion’s Instagram page even describes it as “no frills,” but that’s fine with me. I order a lot of takeout, especially now that I work from home and don’t make it to Orlando’s best dining neighborhoods as often.

But when one of my best foodie friends invited me to this friends-and-family soft opening event, I jumped at the opportunity. I even got to meet Sonny Nguyen for the first time, complimented him on his past successes, and wished him the best of all things with Rion’s Ocean Room. It opens to the general public this coming Tuesday, October 29, 2024, and trust me — it’s going to be Orlando’s next big hit.

Here were all the different poke options on display, under glass, like gleaming gems in a jewelry store. The menu (which includes prices) explains that the ahi tuna is from the North Atlantic Ocean, the salmon is from Scotland, the ono (wahoo) is from the Caribbean Sea, and the shrimp is from northeast Florida.

The friends-and-family soft opening allowed us to choose the equivalent of one pound of poke, but we had a few options for that. I chose a rice bowl with two scoops of two different poke styles, and so did the two friends I went with. This was mine, adorned with ahi tuna in a spicy yuzu sauce and “lava flow” salmon in spicy mayo with tobiko (tiny, salty, crunchy flying fish roe). I also opted for krab salad with shredded surimi in mayo, extra tobiko, and scallions to adorn the top of my rice bowl. It was so cool and fresh and refreshing, which is what I love about poke the most.

Here are the poke rice bowls my dining companions and I got. Mine is the one on the right. My good friend got the creamy garlic shrimp (bottom left), which is actually cooked, unlike the fish. There was also a hot garlic shrimp to choose from. Any of these combinations would be a delicious, filling, and satisfying lunch or dinner.

But I still had more choices to make, so beyond my rice bowl, I chose two quarter-pound containers of additional poke to go. I tried to pick two non-spicy styles so my wife would enjoy them too, back at home. This was paina ono: a raw fish also known as wahoo, mixed with shoyu (soy) sauce, a type of citrus called yuzu, and shredded surimi krab:

And this was Hawaiian tobiko salmon, tossed with onions, scallions, sesame seeds, and plenty of the flying fish roe.

I was even lucky because my generous friend was off to a few more stops after our visit to Rion’s Ocean Room, so he gave me his poke containers to take home with me. I asked “Are you sure?”, but when he said yes, I didn’t push back any further and graciously accepted the bonus bounty. He hooked me up with his ahi tuna in spicy mayo with tobiko (one of my favorite poke combinations):

And this was a “wasabi furikake medley,” a combination of ahi tuna and salmon with soy sauce, sinus-clearing wasabi horseradish, and furikake, a seasoning blend of dried seaweed flakes and sesame seeds, which was also delicious:

Rion’s sells little bags of Deep River Sweet Maui Onion kettle chips, which work perfectly for dipping and scooping into the various poke varieties. I consider myself a potato chip connoisseur (certainly a dubious distinction, but I review them in my various Tight Chips reviews), but somehow, I had never tried this flavor before. I love onions, and I love sweet and salty together, so it was a winner. And I’m also a big dipper (heh), so I appreciated having the firm, crunchy, strongly seasoned kettle chips to sample with my poke.

They also sell Hawaiian Sun fruit drinks, so I treated myself to a can of strawberry lilikoi. Lilikoi is passion fruit, one of my favorite fruit flavors, which I have trouble turning down in any form. With how salty, fishy, and spicy the poke party turned out to be (especially with the Sweet Maui Onion chips), it was nice to have a sweet, cold, fruity drink to wash it all down.

Stalwart Saboscrivnerinos, I cannot rave enough about Rion’s Ocean Room. This fish was so fresh, so delicious, so perfectly seasoned in every form and style, you’re in for a treat. I fully admit to liking raw fish much more than cooked fish, so your mileage may vary, but if you like sushi, trust me — you’ll also fall in love with poke. The flavors, the textures, and the refreshing coolness will whisk you away to Hawaii, if only for a few minutes while you’re blissfully devouring the artful combinations at Rion’s. It’s also quite healthy, especially if you eschew the spicy mayo mixes and skip the rice, potato chips, and sweet drinks.

I am famous for my obsession with delis, sandwiches, and cured meats, but those are “sometimes foods” that you can’t indulge in all the time. Poke, on the other hand, is as wholesome as it is delicious. I would and could happily eat it weekly, if not even more often. I’m so glad Sonny Nguyen has gifted Orlando with Rion’s Ocean Room — one more option for poke in town, and probably the most authentic Hawaiian-style poke of all. Every staff member I spoke to was incredibly warm, friendly, and full of useful information, so if you have questions, they will be more than happy to answer them and put your mind at ease.

I look forward to becoming a regular, and I hope to see YOU there! If you’re another pokeholic, what are your favorite fish and combinations for poke? Let me know!

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.

Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish (St. Petersburg)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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