Wings – The Saboscrivner

Chain Reactions: V Pizza

Based on a recommendation from one of my closest foodie friends, who I trust completely, my wife and I took a drive across Orlando to Palm Parkway, down near the entrance to Disney World, to try a new pizzeria. The touristy Lake Buena Vista seemed like quite a schlep for pizza, but V Pizza (https://www.vpizza.com/locations/lake-buena-vista-orlando-fl/) ended up being totally worth the schlep. V Pizza is a chain based in Jacksonville, a city that has never held much appeal to me, but this is its first of hopefully several locations in Orlando.

V Pizza uses clay brick ovens made in Italy to bake Neapolitan-style pizza at 900 degrees. The website says the “V” stands for Veloce, Italian for “fast,” because the ovens bake pizzas in as little as 90 seconds. Their pizzas come out with a thin, crispy crust, similar in style to Anthony’s Coal Fired Pizza and Orlando’s own Pizza Bruno, two of my favorite pizzerias. All of their pizzas are 13″, so kind of a personal size, but still fine for sharing. Having said that, I think any pizza can be a personal pizza if you believe in yourself.

When you get to V Pizza, you order and pay at the counter, then sit down, and a server walks your food out to you. It is a very casual restaurant, not upscale or fancy, but really, really good. They have an open kitchen, and you can see multiple flavors of gelato on display in a glass case. There is also a bar in the back of the restaurant, and they have trivia nights. (I wish my friends and acquaintances would invite me to a trivia night some time, because we would totally win. But alas, I work until 9 PM during the week, which puts a damper on the Saboscrivner’s social life!)

I ordered one of the house special pizzas, the salsiccia pizza, with San Marzano tomato sauce (made with the world’s best tomatoes, grown in volcanic soil in Italy), provolone and mozzarella cheeses, spicy Italian rope sausage (I couldn’t resist trying an unfamiliar sausage), roasted bell peppers and onions, and a drizzle of Calabrian chili pepper oil. It was so fine. All the high-quality ingredients worked really well together, the sausage was excellent, the crust was perfect (not quite as charred as Anthony’s Coal Fired), and the sauce really sang. It was a top-tier pizza, put over the top by that fresh, bright, robust sauce and tender crust.

My wife and I were both kind of shocked that I ate the whole thing right there, in the restaurant. I didn’t set out to eat an entire pizza; it just happened. It was just so good, and surprisingly light, even with the slices of rope sausage on top. So much for leftovers!

My wife built her own pizza, with mushrooms, black olives, and a whole burrata cheese ball. She demurely ate a slice at the pizzeria, and we took the rest home. You might be wondering “Where’s the burrata?”

It came on the side, in a little metal bowl, rather than plunked on the pizza. In case you haven’t experienced the wonder of burrata before, it is a ball of tender, fresh mozzarella cheese (about the size of a large egg, give or take), but the inside is made of stracciatella cheese curds made from buffalo milk and clotted cream, so it is really soft and stretchy with a rich and creamy center. You can buy it at most grocery stores, but this one at V Pizza was really good, drizzled with a bit of olive oil. She loved it, and I think it was better this way, rather than being baked and melted on top of the pizza, losing its consistency and creaminess.

We also shared a pancetta sandwich that came out before the pizzas, like an appetizer. I have recently won my wife over with the wonders of pancetta as an ingredient in so many dishes, from scrambled eggs to roasted potatoes to pasta sauces. It is similar to bacon, only cured but not smoked. I think of it so much as an ingredient, with unrivaled versatility in the kitchen like anchovies, but better. Restaurants hardly ever offer it as a sandwich meat or even a pizza topping, so we couldn’t refuse!

The pancetta in the sandwich was served warm in slices, with melty fresh mozzarella, fresh tomato, fresh basil, and some drizzled Calabrian pepper oil on a crusty, ciabatta-like roll. It was fine, but I think I still prefer pancetta as an ingredient, and I would prefer prosciutto as a (cold) sandwich, which V Pizza also offers.

In addition to pizza and sandwiches, V Pizza also serves salads, pasta dishes, wings, and even brunch on Sundays from 10 AM to 2 PM.

I would be remiss if I did not mention V For Victory (V4V), V Pizza’s charitable mission to partner with local businesses to provide financial support for area families fighting cancer. The website says “V4V and their business partners provide support throughout the duration of treatment, connecting individuals and families with direct services to meet everyday needs such as lawn care, house cleaning, auto repairs, free meals, and more.” That is a noble goal, and even if I didn’t like the food as much as I did, I would still feel really good about supporting V Pizza and boosting their signal.

There is so much on the menu at V Pizza that I would like to try, and I will certainly return. Our server told us they are planning to open another location in Winter Park, and I will probably wait for that one to open. It should do well there, whereas I was sad to see the restaurant on Palm Parkway mostly empty when we went for a late lunch. There are so many dining options in that sprawling shopping center, including the beloved Japanese izakaya Susuru, the hot new Kung Fu Kitchen (which I tried going to once, but the line was way too long), a Korean barbecue and hot pot place (so trendy right now!), two completely unrelated Irish pubs, and a video game bar. I just hope V Pizza doesn’t get lost amid all those other options, especially not being on some main drag in the touristy side of town, because I loved it, and I have impeccable taste. With that in mind, I think most people will find a lot to love there too, even if it’s a schlep for you to get out there as well. Help the battle against cancer and eat some perfect pizza while you’re at it! That’s a win-win situation if there ever was one.

Pigzza

Pigzza (https://pigzza.com/) is described as “An Italianish joint” on its website. The creation of Thomas Ward, the chef-owner of Orlando’s beloved Pig Floyd’s Urban BBQ, Pigzza combines Ward’s love of barbecue with Italian food, specifically pizza and pasta, the same way Pig Floyd’s combines barbecue with Latin and Asian flavors.

I met one of my best foodie friends for dinner there in May, and we shared a lot of food, as we usually do whenever we have out. We started with a beautiful order of oven-roasted chicken wings that were crispy but very juicy and tender, not greasy at all. The plating elevated these even further, garnishing the wings with arugula, chewy craisins, and an artistic flourish of green goddess dressing. Not many restaurants oven-roast their wings, but I always love these as an alternative to fried versions, which are more likely to get dried out. Glancing at the menu on Pigzza’s website, it looks like these specific wings are not available anymore, but now you have a chance to get Calabrian chili and orange double-cooked wings instead, and that sounds pretty spectacular.

We also shared the Rhode Island-style calamari, crusted with cornmeal and tossed with garlic-herb butter, spicy pickled cherry peppers and banana peppers, and fried capers. These were terrific too. So chewy! Such good breading! I always appreciate cherry peppers on or in anything. The calamari came with tangy red sauce and garlic aioli for dipping, and dip them I did, but they were so good that they didn’t even need the condiment.

For a pizza, we chose the CBW, topped with Alabama white barbecue sauce, barbecue chicken, bacon, smoked mozzarella, candied jalapenos, cilantro, and green onions. Usually I’m a pizza purist who prefers red sauce to “white pies,” but since we got to taste Pigzza’s red sauce with the calamari, I was happy to try something different and unique. And this isn’t any ordinary white pie, as you can tell. These are 12″ pizzas, more Neapolitan-style than New York, and ideal for sharing between two people.The crust was very good, but I prefer the crispier crunch of New York- and Sicilian-style pizzas. With this CBW, it was the combination of toppings that set it over the top. Everything was fresh, high-quality, and combined so well together.

We also shared the spicy sausage tortiglioni pasta, which I learned is very similar to rigatoni. The pasta was tossed in a vodka sauce, so it was tomatoey and creamy all at the same time, topped with grated Parmesan cheese and fresh oregano. The sausage had a nice heat, and my only wish was that there could have been more of it in the dish. I could have easily eaten it all myself, but I am always happy to share food with friends.

I returned to Pigzza in late July to meet two former co-workers, right after leaving my old job after 15 years. We started with the Rhode Island calamari again, which was just as good this time (although my photography wasn’t). My former supervisor went to school in Rhode Island, and this calamari earned her seal of approval too.

This was the pizza she ordered for herself, topped with pepperoni, Pigzza red sauce, smoked mozzarella (the smokiness makes such a huge difference), pecorino romano cheese, oregano, and marjoram. We didn’t share each other’s pizzas, but she seemed very happy with it.

My other colleague, a vegetarian, got a pizza that I believe is called the Big Mo. If this is it, then it was topped with roasted mushrooms, pink pickled onions, caramelized onions, and chives, along with vodka sauce and smoked mozzarella. She was also really happy with her choice. It wasn’t this blurry in real life, I swear!

And perhaps saving the best for last, this was my pizza, the Meat Me at Floyd’s, named for Pig Floyd’s just up the road. It was topped with braised beef brisket, grape jelly barbecue sauce, smoked mozzarella and cheddar cheeses, pickled onions, green onions, and cilantro. I loved this combination, even better than the CBW I shared on my previous visit. But if I see brisket, pickled onions, and smoked cheese, I am going to be happy no matter what.

I’ve been sitting on this review for a while, half-written, hoping to visit Pigzza for a third time. Working from home until late these days, it is much harder for me to get to the side of Orlando with all the great restaurants clustered together, plus parking is kind of abominable there unless you arrive super-early. I will absolutely return, but I figured I should let everyone else know about it sooner rather than later, even though by now, probably — hopefully — everybody does. It is a fine addition to the Mills 50 District and Orlando’s pizza scene, and Thomas Ward has done it again!

King Cajun Crawfish

It has been over five years since I’ve eaten at King Cajun Crawfish (https://kingcajuncrawfish.com/), the Vietnamese-Cajun restaurant in Orlando’s Mills 50 district, one of our best and most diverse neighborhoods for dining. I have always loved it, being a fan of New Orleans and its culture and culinary traditions, so I don’t know what took me so long to return. At least I’ve been there more recently than I’ve been back to the Big Easy itself (not since 2001, sadly).

You may already be familiar with the Cajun and Creole dishes of Louisiana, but I will be didactic and point out that Cajun food is rustic and rural, a spicy stewpot of French-Acadians who left Nova Scotia and settled in the bayous of Louisiana along with Southern influences, while Creole food is more continental “city food” from New Orleans, influenced by Caribbean and European flavors, especially French.

Vietnamese-Cajun is a unique offshoot — a fusion of a fusion — and we are lucky to have several Viet-Cajun restaurants here in Orlando. I believe King Cajun was the first, so it has always been my favorite. Food & Wine offers a nice history of the fusion cuisine, which started with Vietnamese refugees who worked in the seafood industry in Gulf Coast Texas and Louisiana.

I recently invited a beloved professional mentor and friend out to lunch, something we’ve been meaning to do for almost 15 years but never gotten around to. She is a sophisticated and brilliant woman who hails from New Orleans, so I figured King Cajun would be a good choice. I see it as pretty authentic, but I was glad she said the same, without any prompting.

King Cajun Crawfish specializes in seafood boils, messy pots of excess featuring crawfish, shrimp, and crab in savory, spicy broths with potatoes, corn, and Andouille sausage. However, those are so messy, you really have to dress down for a meal like that, or you’ll ruin your clothes. Just an FYI: a meal like that might not be the best choice for a date, unless you’re planning to disrobe later, in case it could end up being an inspired choice. My colleague and I played it safer, selecting with other menu items less likely to splatter, splash, and stain, but for future reference, those seafood boils are delicious, especially if you go with the house specialty “ShaBang sauce” (a blend of their traditional, lemon pepper, garlic butter, and “Rajun’ Cajun” seasonings).

My mentor started out with hush puppies, seasoned dough balls fried to crispy, golden perfection, yet savory and soft inside. These were terrific dipped into some thick, tangy remoulade sauce, and the leftovers heated up perfectly in my toaster oven later that night.

She also ordered a cup of jambalaya, which is a rice dish in a thick, tomatoey sauce with Andouille sausage, chicken, shrimp, onion, and celery. We both liked the little we tried, and I brought the rest home for my wife, who overcame her skepticism and absolutely loved it.

I got seafood gumbo for us to share, which my wife and I both always enjoyed at King Cajun in the past, and this was no exception. My mentor and I requested it at medium heat, because there was hot sauce on the table to punch it up if it was too mild. I could have taken it hotter and been fine, but it was great as is, with plenty of plump shrimp, sausage, chicken, rice, okra, and the “trinity” of Cajun and Creole cooking: onion, celery, and green bell peppers, all cooked in a flavorful roux (stirring flour into butter or some other fat to thicken sauces). Needless to say, we did not roux this day! Gumbo is more like a soup or stew than jambalaya, just in case you have confused them in the past. Both have similar ingredients, but gumbo always has more of a broth, with white rice on the bottom of the cup or bowl.

The hot, fresh French bread at King Cajun is awesome — perfectly crusty on the outside and fluffy, soft, and warm inside. A small loaf, more than enough for two people to share, is only $2. You must get it, whether you order the seafood boil or something else saucy, like gumbo, jambalaya, or crawfish étouffée (for next time). The po’boy sandwiches come on the same bread, but when you order the loaf, it is scored to pull apart easily.

This was the fried oyster platter (my choice), which I thought was only supposed to come with six fried oysters, but it came with far more than six. They were also fried perfectly in a cornmeal batter. I think I prefer raw or charbroiled oysters most of the time, but these were delightful. You can also get them in a po’boy sandwich, but we already had French bread, and I felt like getting some sides.All the fried platters come with two sides. I chose potato salad and onion rings, so long-time Saboscrivner readers know this is also a RING THE ALARM! feature. The potato salad was cool and refreshing, tangy with a little yellow mustard the way Southern potato salads often are. The onion rings were breaded rather than battered, but they didn’t have those jagged crags that cut up the inside of your mouth, and the onions inside were at a reasonable temperature, not molten and scalding. I dipped the oysters and onion rings in the included cocktail sauce, but the remoulade (not pictured) was the best dipping sauce for both.

A side of cole slaw was crispy, cool, creamy, and refreshing, but not too heavy with mayo. Like the potato salad, it was nice to cut all the richness of the fried stuff we had been eating.

And for dessert, you can’t leave New Orleans or King Cajun Crawfish without an order of beignets (pronounced “bin-YAYS”), puffy triangles of fried dough covered with so much powdered sugar, it looks like they just left a bachelor party in Miami… or let’s face it, any party in Miami.
King Cajun Crawfish serves Café du Monde coffee, a New Orleans classic that is an ideal combination with these beignets (especially with condensed milk added), but we both passed. I’m not a coffee drinker, and even I’ll tell you that is some damn fine coffee with its flavoring from the chicory root. Then again, condensed milk makes everything better, and now I’m thinking about requesting some to drizzle over the beignets or dip them in it next time.

This was a long overdue lunch with one of the best people I know, and we could not have picked a better restaurant. It made me happy she liked it and considered it authentic (better than Tibby’s, she said!), and I wondered how and why it had been so long since my last visit to King Cajun Crawfish. Next time I return, I will have to go with a group and dress down to enjoy some boiled crawfish and shrimp in ShaBang sauce without ruining my work clothes. I don’t think that’s too shellfish of a request.

Mr. J Hand-Pulled Noodle

A month or two back, I found myself in Ocoee, an area of West Orlando I never end up in, so I invited a work colleague who lives out there to meet me for lunch at Mr. J Hand-Pulled Noodle (https://www.mrjhandpullednoodle.com/). I had heard lots of praise about the new Chinese restaurant, one of the only ones in Florida to offer Lanzhou-style hand-pulled noodles called lamien, served in halal Chinese Muslim beef noodle soup. I was excited to try it, and so was my foodie friend.

Mr. J (which I can only hear in Arleen Sorkin’s New Jersey-inflected Harley Quinn voice) opened next to a Publix in a little shopping plaza at 1688 East Silver Star Road in Ocoee. The sign for the previous restaurant, Crab & Wings, was still up when we visited. It is a relatively small dining room, with are four tables for parties of four, three tables for parties of two, and a counter in the back with four additional seats (stools), where we sat. You order at the counter, and they bring your food to you when it is ready.

There are eight different noodle shapes to choose from, all made by the chef-owner, Jiqing “James” Meng: flat, thin, small flat, normal, triangle, leek leaf, thick, and thicker. I half-expected him to be putting on a show for the diners, pulling and twisting and whipping and winding noodles, like a scene out of Kung Fu Hustle, but all the action was taking place in the kitchen, out of sight. You should definitely come to Mr. J for an awesome lunch or dinner, but don’t expect a show. That was fine with us — it should end up getting hype and praise for the awesomeness and authenticity of the food, not for any kind of performative aspect.

The Mr. J’s Hand-Pulled Noodle Soup ($15.95) was a clear, consomme-style beef bone broth that reminded me more of Vietnamese pho than the familiar wonton soup I have ordered countless times at countless Chinese restaurants in Orlando, Miami, and Gainesville. I could not begin to identify all the herbs and spices that gave it its complex yet subtle flavors, but I know coriander and garlic leaves are involved. It was not as spicy as I was expecting or hoping, despite knowing a bit of chili oil was in there, but that allowed me to focus more on the thin slices of tender beef and the perfectly soft and chewy “small flat” noodles I ordered.

Here’s one of those noodle-pull action shots all food bloggers try to do. I always try to be a cool man of the world and eat my noodle soups with chopsticks, but that just means I splash my shirts, no matter how cool I try to look. The noodles were much softer than Italian “al dente” pasta, and because they are made with wheat flour, they were also softer than the rice vermicelli in bowls of pho. But even when I couldn’t finish all of mine and took some home, they kept their shape and firm, springy chewiness. Note the thin slice of crunchy white daikon radish in the bowl with all the diced leeks, a nice addition.

I figured the noodle soup would not travel well, so I also ordered stir-fried hand-pulled noodles to go ($16.95), to share with my wife at home. This dish included more of the sliced beef, stir-fried with either “thick” or “thicker” noodles. I chose “thicker,” because I love ’em thick, and the only thing better could be thicker. Onions, green and red bell peppers, tomato, and even pumpkin (according to the menu) are stir-fried in the mix too, although I admit I couldn’t identify the pumpkin in with all that other goodness. The red sauce was tangy and mildly spicy, and it was topped with fresh cilantro.This was another tasty dish, but I would definitely advise first-time diners to go with the soup if they are dining in, if they have to choose between the soup and the stir-fried noodles. The soup is definitely the house specialty, and it is the most unique dish. You also have more noodle shape choices if you go with the soup.

I neglected to take a close-up, but in the background, you can see the tea eggs I ordered for my colleague and I to try ($1.50 each), since I had never had a tea egg before. They were delectable hard-boiled eggs dyed a rich brown hue from tea once we shelled them, and they took on some of that unique flavor. I eat hard-boiled eggs a lot at home and in my boring work lunches, and the tea eggs inspired me to do more exciting things with them in the future, like this. There were also “thousand-year-old eggs” on the menu, another kind of egg I’ve never tried before, but I figured I would not push my luck.

Like I said, I am never this far west in Orlando, so I have no idea when I will return to Mr. J, so I’m glad I tried everything I did when I did. If you make it to Ocoee more than I, you owe it to yourself to try it for yourself. Chef Meng is a master of his craft, elevating noodles to an art form. I can safely say you have never tried noodles like these or soup like this in Orlando. Even though it feels like 2023 has skipped spring and gone straight to summer, get some of his beef noodle soup with these fresh, hand-pulled lamian noodles before it gets even hotter out there, and don’t let the heat and humidity stop you even in the epicenter of August’s armpit.

Build My Burgers

Build My Burgers (https://www.buildmyburgers.com/) sounds like something an old-timey Southern lady would say, as an expression of surprise or exasperation: “Well, build mah burgers!” But no such phrase exists, although maybe it should. Instead, Build My Burgers is a new fast-casual burger restaurant that opened in a small shopping plaza on University Boulevard, just a few minutes west of the University of Central Florida. It is an independent, locally owned restaurant, and it could really use your support, because Build My Burgers will build you a tasty burger to your exact specifications, with dozens of options to customize it. You can have a lot of fun here. I sure did.

The burgers themselves are Black Angus beef, served as thin, “smashed” patties. They might not be as thick or juicy as the patties from a burger joint like Fuddruckers or Teak, but they pack a lot of flavor and are clearly high-quality beef. You can also choose regular or spicy fried chicken, a veggie burger, or an Impossible Burger if you don’t feel like beef. Brioche is the standard bun, but you could also get your burger or sandwich on a thicker pretzel bun for a $2 upcharge or a lettuce bed for no additional cost, for the keto dieters out there. (I did keto for five miserable months in 2017, and let’s just say it did not end well.)

But best of all about Build My Burgers, at least in my book, is the voluminous list of burger toppings and condiments to choose from. I know some people’s brains short-circuit and shut down when faced with too many choices, but I love being able to choose so many different flavors and textures to make a one-of-a-kind meal, whether I’m customizing a poke bowl, a sandwich, a burrito, or a burger, in this case.

I opted for a double-patty burger ($8.99) with two slices of American cheese (75 cents each) on the standard brioche bun. From there, I asked them to add ketchup, spicy mustard, barbecue sauce, lettuce, tomato, caramelized onions, pickles, roasted red peppers, crunchy potato sticks (making their second appearance in a row on The Saboscrivner blog), and guacamole. Our food arrived on metal trays, with the burgers wrapped up, fast food-style, already assembled. Good grief, that was an insanely beautiful, messy, and delicious burger!

My wife likes to keep things simple, so she ordered a single burger ($6.49) on the pretzel bun (a $2 upcharge), and only opted to add thousand island dressing, which was a really good condiment pairing. She ended up thinking the pretzel bun was just okay, but probably would have preferred the brioche. I thought the denser, thicker pretzel bun would have been balanced better with a thicker, two-patty burger and more toppings and condiments.
Next time she’ll get a burger on a brioche bun with guacamole, and next time I’ll probably get something very similar to what I got this time, but add thousand island. We both thought the crinkle-cut fries, dusted with a peppery seasoning, were just okay.

What really sold me on finally trying Build My Burgers were people’s photos of the onion rings. Sharp-eyed Saboscrivnerinos know I am an onion ring aficionado, and I’ll try onion rings anywhere I find them. Those inevitable onion ring reviews get a special tag: RING THE ALARM! And these onion rings ($4.99) are “my type,” with their golden brown batter. Perfect size, shape, color, consistency, and taste. Flawless onion rings, worth ringing the alarm for.

My wife was really craving a chocolate shake ($5.99), but also asked me if I had any interest in sharing an order of fried Oreos ($5.99). That’s a decadent double dessert right there, but I realized neither of us had ever had fried Oreos before, so why not? Anything the Scots love has to be pretty good, right? Well, she seemed to really like the shake, and I enjoyed the obligatory sip I took.
Does anyone remember Pulp Fiction, one of the biggest movies to come out in 1994? I was in 11th grade at the time, and I was absolutely obsessed with it. Anywhere, there was a whole discussion about how a cheesy ’50s diner-themed restaurant in L.A. served five-dollar milkshakes, and what a ripoff that was. I always think of that moment in the film whenever I encounter milkshakes, because over 25 years later, five dollars is pretty standard, and many places cost far more. Vincent Vega would have lost his damn mind if he saw the $15.99 “freaky shakes” on the Build My Burgers menu, but those are huge, opulent, towering structures meant to be photographed and shared (but not picked up, because all kinds of stuff is stuck to the outside of the glasses). This standard chocolate milkshake in a standard plastic cup suited my wife just fine.

And because you were wondering, here’s a cross-section of the fried Oreos. They were actually better than I expected, in that the batter was crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, and the Oreo still had some crunch to it. I was expecting a sad, greasy mess that would make me feel guiltier than usual, and also a little disappointed. Well, they weren’t greasy or disappointing at all, I’m happy to report!

I don’t end up on the east side of Orlando near UCF to eat very often, but if you’re out there, you can definitely count on a tasty burger from Build My Burgers. Any of my stalwart Saboscrivnerinos know how much I value freedom of choice, and how much I love being able to customize and trick out my meals with a variety of options. This is the perfect place for that. Even vegetarians would be very content. I look forward to returning and improvising some new crazy burger combination, but in the meantime, I wanted to spread the word about a relatively new restaurant that could use every bit of support.

CLOSED: Uncle Dendog’s

UPDATE: Sadly, Denni Cha, the chef-owner of Uncle Dendog’s, moved his family to Austin, Texas, in 2022, so Uncle Dendog’s is no more. Orlando’s loss is definitely Austin’s gain.

Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve been obsessed with comic books, to the point of making it a serious field of academic study. Heck, this food blog is even inspired by a comic book series called Chew. (Check the page heading, in case you’ve never glanced at it before.) But as much as I love the characters, I focus the most on the creators who write and draw them, and I can always identify their unique, defining styles. For example, the legendary Jack Kirby (co-creator of most of the Marvel characters you would recognize) specialized in burly, square-jawed heroes and imposing alien technology surrounded by crackling energy. Jim Lee‘s human figures look like flawless gods and goddesses. Arthur Adams draws huge monsters and super-cute women, always with extraordinary attention to detail. Kevin Maguire and Steve Lieber are masters of expressive faces, who can convey so much emotion — and especially humor — with just a look.

Where am I going with this? Well, as a self-proclaimed food writer, I don’t pretend to be the expert on food that I am on comics, but I feel like I’m at a point where I recognize the signature styles and flourishes of some of the talented chefs who prepare the food I love so much. I can always identify the best comic creators by their written voices and artwork, whether they work on a mainstream superhero comic, a crime graphic novel for “mature readers,” or a deeply personal, autobiographical, self-published story, and some chefs stand out to me the same way, even when they transcend cuisines.

Orlando is home to some real innovators and creative dynamos who have built a strong culinary culture here, and one of my favorite local chefs is Denni Cha. He has been cooking since he was nine years old, ever since his grandmother taught him to cook in the kitchen of her Korean restaurant. I first discovered his food in the summer of 2020, when he ran a Japanese pop-up called Itamae Densho out of The Local Butcher, the Winter Park meat market that also hosts previous Saboscrivner review subject Swine & Sons and Da Kine Poke. I reviewed the gorgeous, almost otherworldly looking chirashi bowls I brought home from Itamae Densho — maybe the most beautiful things I saw in 2020, an otherwise ugly and stressful year. They were like little landscapes in a bowl — multiple kinds of fresh fish and vegetables over rice, even adorned with edible flowers and ziggurats of fractal romanesco jutting past gleaming orbs of salmon roe.

Unfortunately, Itamae Densho is no more, but Chef Denni is back with his latest venture, something far removed from chirashi bowls but still totally in character and on brand: Uncle Dendog’s (https://www.instagram.com/uncle.dendogs/), a food truck (really a trailer) that specializes in Korean corn dogs and other street foods with a foreign, fusiony focus. Follow his Instagram page to see where he’s going to turn up next!

I was the first person to arrive at Uncle Dendog’s this past Friday night, set up outside Orlando Brewing, the brewery and taproom south and west of downtown Orlando. Not being a drinker, I had never been there before, so I didn’t know how busy it would get later or how the parking situation would be. But I do prefer to grab my food on the early side, especially since I was bringing it home after work.

I have taken the liberty of posting photos of the menu, although it may change from week to week or even night to night. I knew I had to try one of Uncle Dendog’s signature K-Dawgs, so it was just a question of choosing which one.
But I knew he had a new special, just weeks after opening for the first time, and that was what drew me out on this rainy evening.

This was it: “Not-So Native Fry Bread Tacos.” For many years, I’ve heard and read about Navajo-style tacos, a Southwestern delicacy of meat, cheese, peppers, corn, beans, sauces, and more, served on crispy, pillowy, salty, greasy fry bread, a traditional staple food of Native Americans throughout the American Southwest.

Fry bread may be delicious, but it has a fraught, controversial history in Navajo culture due to the lasting effects of colonialism, when the U.S. government gave the Navajo people flour, sugar, salt, and lard as they were forced to relocate onto desolate, dusty reservations where they could no longer grow traditional, healthy crops like corn, beans, and squash. There is a schism within the Native American community, and even among Native American chefs, about whether fry bread is an unhealthy, lasting symbol of oppression or a tasty treat born out of resistance and resilience. It is absolutely not my place to decide or judge which side is right, but I can say a few non-controversial things with certainty, though:
1.) Chef Denni Cha is of Native American (and Korean) descent,
2.) He told me a while back that he planned to offer fry bread tacos as a tribute to his Native American heritage, so I’ve been looking forward to them ever since, and
3.) They were one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. Yes, in my LIFE.

But first things first: I asked Chef Denni’s lovely wife and partner, Monica, which K-Dawg (Korean corn dog) she recommended, and she told me to go with the Korean in Bogota ($10), a massive meat treat with the lightest, crispiest batter coating a perfect, smoky, salty sausage. Korean corn dogs are definitely Internet- and Instagram-trendy right now because of how photogenic and eye-catching they are, and this one was no exception. It was a true fusion: an all-beef Nathan’s hot dog lovingly skewered, dipped in a special batter, and fried until it is crispy outside and lusciously soft inside — an archetypal Korean corn dog even if I had ordered it plain. But Colombian hot dogs and hamburgers are famous for being served with lots of condiments and toppings, so this was a tribute to those — hence “Korean in Bogota.” More fusion. More loving, respectful tribute. Just like in comic books, this was a legit crossover.
As the menu said, the corn dog is topped with shiso-cilantro garlic aioli, salsa rosada, pineapple salsa, and crunchy potato sticks, and sprinkled with sugar, for a variety of colors, flavors, and textures — salty, crunchy, spicy, creamy, fruity, greasy, soft, cool, sweet, hot. (When I asked about the sugar, Denni said “Korean Hotdogs usually get heavily dusted in sugar. We do so much else with them that we just lightly sprinkle it.”) Anyway, I’m glad I took this home and ate it over a table, because it would have been really messy eating standing up at the brewery or in the parking lot outside.

Next up, I brought home an order of lightly breaded wings ($9). My wife loves wings, but as much as I appreciate sauces and condiments, she isn’t big on them, so I got these plain with her in mind. The order came with six huge wings in crispy golden-brown batter, and they were really good. The battered exterior was still crunchy and warm by the time I got home. I asked, and this batter for the wings is different from the batter he uses for the corn dogs and fry bread.

If you want something a little more exciting than plain wings, the other alternative is to get them tossed in a sweet, sticky kimchi sauce. When Chef Denni kindly asked if I wanted a little ramekin of the sauce on the side, I said YES, which is what you say if someone asks if you are a god, or if you want some sauce on the side. That sauce was so good, we poured it over the four and a half wings we hadn’t eaten yet, and it made them even better. Even after saucing, they stayed crunchy and never got soggy, even after reheating some leftover wings in the toaster oven the next day!
I don’t have a lot of experience eating kimchi, which is weird, because I love pickled vegetables, I’ll eat sauerkraut straight out of the jar or can, and I regularly cook braised cabbage at home. I need to develop my taste for kimchi, just like I did for pickles. But this sweet kimchi sauce made these fine wings even finer.

I saved the best for last, which speaks volumes, considering how great the corn dog and the wings were. I ordered two of the Not-So Native fry bread tacos ($10 each), one for each of us. They came in the same box and looked like the stuff that dreams are made of. Topped with braised beef, beer cheese, cilantro-garlic aioli, salsa, corn, black beans, and more potato sticks, they were another amazing, astonishing amalgam of fantastic, fabulous flavors and terrific, tantalizing textures. But what really took these from tasty street food to next-level works of art was the fry bread itself.
Chef Denni was very forthcoming when I asked him about the fry bread later on. He uses the same batter he uses for the K-Dawgz (corn dogs), only he lets it proof longer, for a total of 48 hours, to get to the right consistency for his fry bread. My wife described the texture of being like a really good, really thick “old-fashioned” doughnut (those wrinkly glazed ones, sometimes called sour cream cake doughnuts), only crispy on the outside. Denni agreed, saying he has compared them to “savory doughnuts” before, but more airy and fluffy. I swear, you’ve never had tacos like this before, and I’m 100% sure nobody else in Orlando is making these. The closest thing I could compare them to are sopes, but they are way better than any sopes my wife and I have ever tried. I can’t imagine anyone not liking these, unless you keep kosher (in which case, ask to hold the warm, gooey beer cheese) or are a vegetarian (in which case, ask to hold the delicious, tender, savory braised beef). Heck, even going to town on some plain fry bread would be a treat, maybe with some hot honey squirted on it like the best sopapilla ever. But don’t miss these Not-So Native tacos!

And here’s a mediocre photo of Uncle Dendog himself, Denni Cha, hard at work in the trailer, packing up my takeout order in his panda sushi apron. He actually took a moment to pose for me, but I said “Thank you!” like a boob before actually taking the picture, so he moved, and this is what I got — totally my fault. I’m sorry, Chef.

So what does this have to do with the comic book artists? Well, I told you I’m starting to identify local chefs from their styles, just like the artists I’ve admired for decades. And after having Chef Denni’s chirashi bowls at Itamae Densho and now his Colombian-inspired Korean corn dogs and Native American fry bread tacos, I think the common element that identifies and unifies his style as a chef is the sheer beauty of it. His serving dishes are the canvases of an iconoclastic visionary artist, whether they’re bowls with a base of rice or takeout boxes with paper trays inside. And he builds these mixed-media structures, assembling them from diverse, colorful, fresh, dazzling ingredients that you might not even think belong together, but that’s only because we don’t think like he does. Especially here in Uncle Dendog’s trailer/studio, he’s creating cross-cultural culinary mashups and remixes — appropriate, because he is also a musician — and elevating humble, familiar street food to eye-catching, awe-inspiring fine art. You’ll know it when you see it, because you won’t forget it… especially once you taste it.

Thirsty Gator

Thirsty Gator (http://thirstygator.net/) is a great dive bar and casual restaurant located on a lonely stretch of Goldenrod Road between University Drive and East Colonial Drive. The address plants it firmly in Winter Park, but the surrounding area doesn’t look or feel like Winter Park. To be completely honest, entering the bar feels like you’ve entered a portal that transports you to the Southern college town of Gainesville, Florida, two hours north of Orlando. It doesn’t even matter when you knew Gainesville best — it will feel like Gainesville from “back in the day,” whenever that day was for you.

As if the name wasn’t a dead giveaway, Thirsty Gator is a Florida Gators-themed bar, so I’m sure it is a hot destination when Gator games are on or when University of Florida alumni in Orlando are feeling particularly nostalgic. I have a few degrees from UF, but as I get older, I rarely feel that nostalgia for “bright college days, oh carefree days that fly” anymore. I had some of the best and worst times of my life during my seven years as a UF student, but I met a lot of amazing friends there, and I’m so honored to know them and so proud of what they have all become. Also, I fully realize I am able to lead the life I live now — educated, gainfully employed, happily married — because of what I accomplished back then, so in the end, it all worked out. I never thought I’d feel more content and fulfilled in my 40s than I did in my late teens and 20s, but here I am. Aw heck, when I was in my 20s, there were times I honestly didn’t think I would even make it to my 40s, but here I am, doing better than pretty much anyone expected, myself included. Stalwart Saboscrivnerinos, it really does get better. I’m living proof of that.

But enough about an old man’s reflections of times past. On to the food!

I brought home an order of ten mild wings ($15):

And an order of ten garlic wings ($15):
These are some of my favorite wings in Orlando. I’ve written before about how I dislike typical sports bar wings that are tiny, greasy, crunchy, and dry. These are the exact opposite — decent-sized wings that are tender, moist, juicy, incredibly well-seasoned, and barely greasy at all because they are baked, not fried. I probably would have preferred them hot, but then my wife couldn’t enjoy them at all, and we always endeavor to share. Thirsty Gator may be known for its seafood, but don’t sleep on these wings! Seriously, they have to be near the top of the Top Five in Orlando.

My wife and I can never refuse the allure of a soft pretzel. This one was $3.25, and it was pretty large, soft, and buttery. It wasn’t as flaky and perfect as an Auntie Anne’s soft pretzel (the only thing I like going to malls for anymore), but still hit the spot. That is yellow mustard in the little plastic cup, not butter!

I can never resist garlic rolls or garlic bread either, and this garlic bread was $3.25. You get four pieces that are similar to the frozen loaves of Cole’s garlic bread I enjoy a little bit too much. They had softened by the time I got everything home, but they had plenty of garlic, butter, and herbs on them. You just can’t go wrong with garlic bread.

And the main reason I got takeout from Thirsty Gator, rock shrimp (market price; currently $21.95 per pound). This delectable denizen of the deep rarely appears on any restaurant menus, and this is the one restaurant I know of in Orlando that specializes in the little crustaceans. These are peel-and-eat rock shrimp, and their shells are slightly harder to pierce, penetrate, and peel than the typical shrimp we all know and love. So they’re more work, but totally worth it.

This is what one of the rock shrimp looks like peeled. The meat is succulent and sweet, and my wife and I agree they taste more like lobster than shrimp.
Funny enough, one of our featured songs at our wedding was “Rock Lobster” by the B-52s. If you’ve ever had spiny lobster, AKA langoustine or langostino, those guys are the real-life rock lobsters, and I honestly think they taste more like regular shrimp than lobster.

These are a real treat, and since each one is a bit of a hassle to peel, you never take these for granted. The peeling process may not be appealing, but you never eat rock shrimp without appreciating each sweet, tender morsel. As a result, we took our time making our way through the pound we got. They are served warm, but we also enjoyed them chilled out of the fridge the next day.

Aside from the rock shrimp and the wings, the other big food specialty at Thirsty Gator is the fresh raw oysters, but those aren’t great takeout food. I’ve made no secret of my great love of oysters, so I’ll just have to go back another time to enjoy them in person. Whether you love the Gators, hate them, or just fear them as so many do, there is so much to love at Thirsty Gator.

Christo’s (Sanford)

Sometimes I find out about a restaurant, read everything I can about it, and pore over the menu months or even years before I’m able to go. This usually happens when a place is far from both home and work, when I can’t just jet off there whenever I want, and when takeout or delivery are unrealistic due to distance, so I need to plan a special trip to go. Sometimes those trips end in disappointment, and other times they end in unbridled joy and obsession. The following review is based on two separate visits to a restaurant, one for dining in and one for takeout, and it definitely runs the gamut of emotions.

Longtime readers know how much my wife and I both love diners, and any Orlando residents know that truly good diners like the ones they have up north are extremely rare down here. So when I first heard about Christo’s (https://christossanford.com/) in quaint, historic downtown Sanford, it had my curiosity. Then I began to study the voluminous menu online, and it had my attention! It was a huge menu full of classic American food, along with the Italian and Greek dishes that many northern diners boast among their offerings, and a huge selection of freshly-baked desserts. To quote Stefon, “This place has everything!”

There aren’t enough restaurants where you can get burgers, pizza, gyros, barbecue ribs, fish and chips, pasta, Italian subs, all kinds of fried apps, wings, breakfast (only on Sundays), pies, and a cheesecake of the day. Some people might look suspiciously at a restaurant like that, where the menu’s ambition may exceed the kitchen’s reality, where they spread themselves too thin instead of focusing on and perfecting a few core dishes. But the allure of the diner is that variety, where you can get waffles, a Reuben sandwich, spanikopita, calzone, or even lobster, at any time of day, and you know they’ll all be good. And at Christo’s, rest assured, they are gonna be GOOD. (Editor’s note: Christo’s does not have lobster, but they do have crab cakes!)

The dining room appears to be built inside of an old bank, with the area where the vault used to be in the very back of the long room. It is a little dark in there, which I appreciate. I hate feeling blasted with light in restaurants, like we’re being examined on a slide on a giant microscope. Christo’s had a homey, relaxing feeling, like a restaurant my parents would have taken us to when I was a kid in the ’80s, without feeling like a Southern “down-home-cookin’-corn-pone-y’all” kind of diner. I liked it immediately, and my wife and I both liked our server Arielle, who was so sweet and patient and welcoming, despite being super-busy. I keep reading stories about service in restaurants being bad due to the pandemic, and places being short-staffed due to staff quitting for more lucrative jobs and due to abuse from customers. I’m sure that all happens, and anyone who is rude to hard-working people in the service industry is deplorable and worthy of the deepest contempt and merciless social consequences. But I digress. I just meant to say that Arielle was slammed, but she provided us the best service I’ve experienced in a restaurant in a year and a half, since before COVID-19 changed everything forever. (I know some people will be interested, so I mention it here: none of the staff members were wearing masks on either of these visits.)

One thing I had been excited about trying at Christo’s was the fresh-baked pepperoni bread. It isn’t a stromboli (because they have those too), but just fresh, fluffy, crusty bread with pepperoni slices and cheese baked into it sounded delightful. Guess what, folks: it was. I usually don’t like bread that is too crusty, where the crust shatters into shards when you bite it, occasionally carving up your gums like a ninja on the rampage. This was an ideal crust that was crackly, but not overly hard or crunchy.

I was tempted by other apps, but I feel like I made the best possible choice in Greek nachos ($11.49), a Herculean portion of crispy, fresh-fried pita wedges (definitely not those rock-hard, bone-dry, bagged pita chips) smothered and covered with a veritable Mount Olympus of sliced gyro meat, crumbled feta cheese, shredded lettuce, diced tomatoes, thin-sliced red onions, kalamata olives, and chopped pepperoncini peppers, then topped with a layer of creamy, tangy tzatziki sauce. Folks, this was legendary, or at least mythical. If only Homer was still around to write about these Greek nachos… or maybe they should have called them Natchios. (Any other Daredevil fans reading this? If so, make your presence known!)
Much to my pleasant surprise, my wife liked these Greek nachos too, but I loved them. Fearless readers, I might go out on a limb and say that this is one of my favorite restaurant appetizers of all time, and not just in the Orlando area either. I can’t recommend or rave about these enough! And the portion really is huge, so a group could happily share it, or someone could easily make it into a filling, fulfilling meal.

My wife always appreciates a nice sweet breakfast, so we made sure to go on a Sunday, the one day Christo’s opens earlier than 11 AM and serves a breakfast menu until it closes at 3 PM. She ordered white chocolate French toast ($10.99), which came with six thicc slices of fresh-baked challah, dipped in white chocolate egg batter and grilled until it was golden. She loved it, as I suspect most people would, but everything was so filling, she could only eat two of the smaller slices then and there. Everything heated up very well back at home, which is a bonus.

I couldn’t decide between a burger and a sandwich, so Arielle recommended Christo’s Chicago beef sandwich ($9.95), which she said would be “more festive than a burger.” Folks, I’ll take any festivities where I can get them, especially these days! The sandwich includes thin slices of bottom round topped with sauteed onions (and mushrooms, which I asked her to hold), baked on a crusty roll with mozzarella and brick cheeses and served with au jus.

“AU JUUUUUUUUS!
AU JUUUUUUUUUS!
Do you hate him, ’cause he’s PIECES OF YOU?”
(Nobody will get or appreciate that, but I only write this blog to amuse myself, so mission accomplished.)

Anyway, it was a fine sandwich, but really could have used a vegetable and something spicy. The pickled giardinera vegetables that go on an authentic Chicago Italian beef sandwich would have brought this one over the top.So what’s all the other stuff on the plate, you ask? Well, at Christo’s, sandwiches and burgers come with chips and a pickle, OR for an additional $4.49, you can get it Fat Boy Style. I have nothing but love for the Fat Boys (RIP, Buff Love and Prince Markie D!), but Christo’s had the ingenious idea to include a single onion ring, a firecracker fried cheese ball (with firecracker sauce!), and either fries or potato salad in their Fat Boy Style option, and how could I refuse? Yes, this is a Ring the Alarm! feature because I ate a single onion ring, and it was a fine one — hand-dipped into homemade beer batter and fried to perfection. You know this onion ring was made with care, pride, and love, and didn’t come frozen in an industrial-sized bag from somewhere. The firecracker fried cheese ball was a blend of five cheeses dipped in batter and fried into a perfect little golden globe (don’t sue me, please). The firecracker sauce was creamy and tangy, barely spicy at all — definitely not as spicy as spicy mayo that comes with sushi and poke. Anyway, you can get a full appetizer order of the firecracker fried cheese balls for $8.49, a full order of the onion rings for $6.99, or a smaller “entree side” order of the onion rings for $3.99, which is good to know for next time.

And because you can get fries almost anywhere but I was already eating plenty of fried stuff, and also in a Greek diner, I chose the potato salad, and I was so glad I did. Greek-style potato salad is served chilled, but instead of mayonnaise, it includes vinegar, and I love vinegary salads. It was so delicious, I just loved it. (As an aside, German potato salad is also awesome and vinegary, but it is served warm and includes bacon. Get some down the street at Hollerbach’s Willow Tree Cafe, our favorite restaurant in Sanford.)

Like the diners of my dreams, Christo’s had a long glass refrigerated display case near the front, full of freshly baked pies and cakes. It looked like a birthday-style cake with rainbow sprinkles baked in and more on top, a key lime pie, and a blueberry cream pie in the front. It’s harder to tell exactly what wonders were on the lower level.

Moving on down, there was one slice remaining of a gorgeous flaky apple pie, a slice of blueberry cheesecake in the back, and the cake on the top right was either a carrot cake or a hummingbird cake, topped with nuts and cream cheese icing. On the lower deck, there was a cake with cherries on it, some kind of chocolate cake, and an intriguing-looking orange cake I made a mental note of.

Further down, there were freshly baked cookies and pastries, as well as chocolate-dipped wedges of baklava in the top left there!

My wife usually gravitates toward anything chocolatey, so she really surprised me by expressing interest in that beautiful blueberry cream pie ($6.99), which would have been my top choice anyway. It wasn’t overly sweet, and the crust had a nice saltiness to it, to offset the tangy cream and tart berries. I liked it more than she did, but we both liked it.

Since it’s summer and blueberries are in peak season, at least somewhere, I made a case that we had to compare the cream pie to the blueberry cheesecake ($7.99) too. This one wasn’t overly sweet either. It almost reminded me of yogurt, in that it had a subtle tangy tartness that wasn’t just from the berries. The graham cracker crust was more crumbly than firm, but it wasn’t moist or buttery like the graham cracker crusts on some cheesecakes and key lime pies, and wasn’t salty either. I liked it, don’t get me wrong, but everything about the blueberry cream pie was better than the cheesecake.

Funny enough, my wife’s favorite desserts were the freshly baked cookies we brought home: snickerdoodles and sugar cookies ($2.50 each). Back at home, she said they were soft, but not like raw cookie dough either — they were nicely chewy, but still had a bit of a crumble, just like you hope for.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Christo’s, and I really wanted to write a review while it was all fresh in my mind, so I returned after work today and brought home a large takeout order, using a very generous UberEats gift card a sweet friend had given us. This way, I figured my wife and I would have enough leftovers to last through most of the weekend.

Christo’s makes much of their pizzas, and my wife asked me to bring her a personal pizza with Italian sausage, mushrooms, and green peppers ($11.99). I splurged and took the 417 (a toll road) home from Sanford to ensure the food would still be as hot as possible, and the pizza was still warm! I had a slice after picking most of the mushrooms off it, and it was a pretty chewy crust, but had a good flavor from the sauce, cheese, and toppings. I prefer a crispier crust, though, whether it’s thin New York-style pizza or thick, rectangular Sicilian-style. My wife thought it was okay, but her favorite pizzas in town are from Pizza Bruno and that rare bird, Brad’s Underground Pizza.

Most people who know me or read The Saboscrivner know that Italian subs are pretty much my favorite meal. I had to try Christo’s version, the Italian Lunch Box ($9.99) to compare it to my favorite subs and hoagies in Orlando. It was okay, with salami, pepperoni, ham, mozzarella cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and onions on a soft hoagie roll, but no roasted peppers or drizzled Italian dressing, as promised on the menu. I think the roasted peppers and Italian dressing would have helped it immensely. I’m kind of a sub aficionado, and I think they need the tanginess of peppers — either roasted reds or something spicy, like hot pickled cherry peppers, or both. Subs also require the lubrication from a condiment, like some kind of oil and vinegar, or better yet, a vinaigrette dressing. As it is, I’ll leave the Italian subs to the experts, but props to Christo’s for offering one in the first place.

Ribs? At a DINER? Yep, “Need-A-Bib” ribs were on the menu, so I ordered a full slab ($19.99), just for the heck of it, knowing we could share them and they would last us a few meals. These were substantial spare ribs, not tiny little baby backs, uncut and fall-off-the-bone tender (which most barbecue pitmasters would argue isn’t ideal). They definitely weren’t smoked — most likely par-boiled and finished on the grill, then brushed with a sticky, sweet, and slightly smoky barbecue sauce. But they were still tender and tasty, despite not being traditionally smoked, and weren’t fatty or greasy at all.

I got a choice of two sides with the ribs, so I opted for those really good onion rings as well as fried macaroni and cheese, because why not, right? The fried mac and cheese came in the form of two large, thick triangles, covered with crispy brown breading and dusted with parmesan cheese.

Here’s a cross-section of the fried mac and cheese and one of the firecracker fried cheese balls that come with the Fat Boy Style orders:

We went a bit nuts on desserts as well. Restaurants, take note: if you want to tempt us, put pies and cakes in a glass display case, or better yet, under glass domes, like they always have in diners in old movies. We are suckers for seeing them up close and on display like that!

Continuing the blueberry dessert trend from our previous visit, it looks like we got a double slice of a blueberry cake ($7.99, but it’s a large portion that needs to be shared). The cake itself was on the dry side, and we both wished it had more blueberries, but the cream cheese icing was a real winner. It was much better after we left it in the fridge to chill for a while. I like my cake chilled, and usually my pie as well.

I am also a mark for any orange desserts, so after seeing it on our last visit, I brought home a slice of orange cake ($7.99), intending to make it last a while. The cake itself was slightly more moist than the blueberry cake, but it had a good subtle orange flavor, and once again, cream cheese icing. Not bad, but one of these days I’m going to have to return to Christner’s, the really nice steakhouse that serves a mandarin orange cake that is one of my all-time favorite desserts. I haven’t been there in many years, so I’ve never written a review.

And finally, Christo’s apple pie is so pretty, I had to get us a slice of that too ($6.99). This is one that looked better than it tasted, I must admit. Do you remember reading how I wished the Chicago beef sandwich had some spicy marinated giardinera vegetables and the Italian Lunch Box sub had some hot peppers and a vinaigrette dressing? They would have been much better sandwiches with some spicy elements added. Well, you know what WAS spicy, but we both wished it wasn’t? This apple pie. It had a lot of cinnamon in it — like, a ridiculous amount of cinnamon that had a hot, spicy bite to temper the tartness of the apples. It wasn’t overly sweet either, which was fine, especially after I overdosed on apple pie judging the 2018 National Pie Championships here in Orlando, but mama mia, that was a spicy pie!
So that’s Christo’s, one of the best diners I’ve found in Florida. We tried a lot of stuff because I got all swept up in the excitement of discovering a new diner with a big ol’ menu, and I wanted to write a thorough, exhaustive review after all the anticipation of finally getting out there. Some things were terrific (I can’t rave enough about those Greek nachos!), others were fine, and some were a little disappointing, but that’s diners for ya, and that’s life as well.

Since Sanford is half an hour away from home and even further from work, I don’t see myself returning all that often. But it is definitely worth a try for anyone hanging out in Sanford, especially among all the other trendier restaurants and hip breweries and wine bars along First Street. It’s a family restaurant — not cutting-edge or foodie-hipsterish in any way — but that’s part of Christo’s charm. I think it’s cool just by being an unpretentious, old-school diner with a huge, ambitious menu. I think any diners would have a difficult time going there and not finding something good to eat, especially if you’re dining with a party of people with strong opinions. If you’re anything like me, you might feel a little overwhelmed by all the choices, but overwhelmed in the best possible way. And if we’re lucky, life can feel a little like that too.

The Ravenous Pig

The Ravenous Pig (https://www.theravenouspig.com/) has always been one of my favorite restaurants in Orlando for a special occasion. I started dating my wife in 2006 when I was a poor grad student just starting to work in libraries. Back in the beginning, we’d go out for burgers or Vietnamese food, or a special date night for us was the Cheesecake Factory or P.F. Chang’s. So perhaps just in time (especially for us), chef-owners James and Julie Petrakis opened the Ravenous Pig in 2007. It became one of Winter Park and Orlando’s hottest restaurants, and probably our first “gastropub.” The Petrakis’ ever-changing menu was always full of creative, beautiful dishes and elevated takes on beloved comfort foods made from locally-sourced ingredients. The service was impeccable, and the atmosphere was upscale, yet warm and welcoming, never formal or stuffy (two things I hate). Luxury gives me anxiety, anything too fancy seems like a betrayal of my stoic, down-to-Earth parents. But the Pig always made me feel like I belong there — at least once in a while, when we were celebrating something.

I took my now-wife there for a date shortly after it opened, feeling so cutting-edge hipster cool after reading a blurb about the Pig in Orlando Weekly. It almost felt like something clicked for me that night, changing me forever. Maybe the Ravenous Pig was my foodie origin story — my radioactive spider bite, my lightning and chemicals, my intrinsic field subtractor. That dinner — that menu! — made me think more about food, and where it came from, and all the cool and new things you could do with it. The Pig might have been the first restaurant of its kind I had been to as a dude in my late 20s used to canned tuna and sardines, ramen and spaghetti, and Fuddruckers for a real treat — a restaurant where even a burger and fries could be high art. And since then, we’ve had some memorable meals there, often shared with friends from near and far.

But along the way, with so many great new places to eat (some of them definitely inspired by the Petrakis’ successes), a few years had passed since our last visit to the Ravenous Pig. Flash back a year to February 2020, in those innocent, pre-pandemic days. We found ourselves out on the town the evening before Valentine’s Day, arguably a much better night to go out. We decided to treat ourselves to a romantic dinner date, knowing we’d stay in and law low the next night, and I’d prepare a nice dinner at home.

This was only our second visit to the Ravenous Pig’s “new” location on Fairbanks Avenue, across the street from Fiddler’s Green and Swine & Sons, even though they moved in a few years ago. I never noticed the hostess station was a card catalog-looking setup behind glass, which appealed to my librarian’s sense of aesthetics.

It’s a stunning space.

And they cure their own charcuterie in this climate-controlled case, which is always impressive! I consider myself a connoisseur of the salted, smoked, cured, and pickled.

We started out with an order of smoked wings ($9). Believe it or not, my wife is more of a wing eater than I am, but I knew the Ravenous Pig would have wondrous wings. It’s a wonder we had never tried them before, but it’s possible these particular wings were a newer offering, considering they change their menu often and we hadn’t been in a while. These were nice and juicy, with a crackly skin and a good smoke flavor that didn’t overpower the taste of the meat. They were seasoned with garlic, parmesan cheese, parsley, and Calabrian chiles — a kind of spicy pepper I am obsessed with. But even though these weren’t spicy, I liked these wings much more than she did, and ended up eating four out of the five.

Another thing my wife always loves is octopus. There are a few restaurants that make excellent octopus dishes, including long-time favorite Pizza Bruno, but this charred octopus ($32) definitely made the grade with her. The huge tentacles were firm and meaty, grilled to perfection. I admit I’m not the biggest octopus fan, because I’ve had tiny, shiny, slimy baby octopus a few times, and I just can’t get into those. This kind of preparation, with large char-grilled tentacles, is much better.
This Spanish-style octopus was served with the most excellent papas bravas (some of the finest fried potatoes I’ve ever had anywhere), a tomato-olive vinaigrette (I like tomatoes and she doesn’t; she likes olives and I don’t), and topped with an artistic swirl of paprika aioli that went perfectly with the papas bravas.

I was torn between a few choices, but since it had been so long since our last visit, I went with my old friend the Pub burger ($18). This is a contender for Orlando’s best burger. Some of the only ones that come close are from Orlando Meats, which I named one of my Top Five dishes of 2018 in Orlando Weekly, and a recent find at Alex’s Fresh Kitchen in Casselberry, which I listed in my Top Ten Tastes of 2020, also in Orlando Weekly. But the Pub burger is the granddaddy of them all. Cooked to a perfect medium rare and served on a fresh-baked, grilled brioche bun, it is topped with melty blue cheese (sometimes too pungent for me, but perfect in these proportions), with bibb lettuce, marinated red peppers, and crisp, house-cured pickle slices. I’ve written ad nauseam about my slow quest to appreciate pickles, and this gastropub made the first pickles I’ve ever liked, the first pickles to make me think “Mmmm, good” and not “Ew, gross!”The shoestring-style fries are usually truffle fries, but I’ve also written ad nauseam about mushrooms being my enemy, and that unfortunately includes truffles too. I guess I’m just not a fungi. On this visit last year, I had the foresight to ask our patient server Tanya to ask the kitchen to leave off the truffle oil or whatever truffle seasoning they use, and everyone came through for me. They were great, especially dipped in a little ramekin of garlic aioli that you know someone whips up fresh every day. I ate most of the fries first, because we all know how fries get cold quickly, especially the shoestring variety, and how sad cold fries are.

Close-up of that beautiful burg:

For dessert, we usually default to an assortment of the Ravenous Pig’s daily house-made ice creams and sorbets (three scoops for a very reasonable $6). Tonight my wife asked for a single scoop of their incredible chocolate ice cream made with cacao nibs ($2), which is so rich and deeply, darkly chocolatey, served over crispy crumbles of shortbread. It’ll have you calling out “CACAO! CACAO!”

But we couldn’t say no to the cheesecake ($8), a special for the special night out. The soft ricotta-based cheesecake was served with fresh grapefruit, a scoop of grapefruit sorbet, crunchy honeycomb-type things that got stickier as you chewed them, and a swirl of local honey. This was small, but rich, and we made every bite matter.

I want to reiterate that even though I try to publish a restaurant review every week, we’re not bougie people who go out to classy joints like the Ravenous Pig that often. But Valentine’s Day (or the night before it) is an opportunity to treat ourselves, and more importantly, treat each other. We chose the perfect place to do that treating exactly a year ago, so I saved this review to publish now, to give my constant readers, my Saboscrivnerinos, an idea for this looming V-Day. With the pandemic still raging, my wife and I still don’t feel comfortable dining in anywhere, so I haven’t made it back to the Pig since this visit, 364 days ago. But we look forward to an end to all of this, when everyone can get vaccinated and be safe to eat out again. All that time away makes our occasional visits to one of Orlando’s all-time best restaurants that much more meaningful, memorable, and magical. When the world gets safer, safe enough to go back out to eat again, I’m sure we’ll return to The Ravenous Pig and hopefully meet up with friends to celebrate still being alive, surviving and thriving together.

The Pass Progressive Cuisine

Not being an influencer, I sometimes arrive a little late to the hottest foodie trends. But for a couple of months, I’ve been salivating over photos and videos of birria tacos made with braised, shredded beef brisket or goat and served with a dipping cup of rich, glistening, orangey-red consommé. Now Orlando has a few Mexican restaurants that serve birria, and today I finally tried it at one of our newest birria boutiques: The Pass Progressive Cuisine (https://www.thepassprogressive.com/), located in a nondescript industrial warehouse plaza in Altamonte Springs. It’s a little off the beaten path, but the best places often are. And you don’t want to pass on The Pass Progressive, trust me.

My wife wasn’t as psyched for birria as I was, but at all of our favorite taquerias and Mexican restaurants like Tortas El Rey and Francisco’s Taco Madness, she always requests carne asada tacos, so that’s what she wanted to try here. You get an order of three for $11.95. I took one little bite and loved what I tasted, but more importantly, so did she. The steak was tender and picked up nice flavor from being grilled, and I think I detected some lime juice in there.

You can see they are absolutely stunning, topped with a snow flurry of Oaxaca cheese, fresh cilantro, and julienned radishes on soft corn tortillas. The carne asada tacos come with guajillo chile salsa, but my wife isn’t big on salsas, sauces, or anything too spicy, so I ordered it on the side for her (so I could have it).

But here it is, the star of the show: birria tacos! These also come in an order of three for $11.95. They were also topped with cilantro, radish, onion (I asked them to hold the onion for my wife’s tacos), and a dusting of Oaxaca cheese, plus there’s that rich, flavorful consommé.

The meat was so flavorful and tender from being braised and shredded, it didn’t even need the consommé, but you can bet I dipped anyway. Things got a little drippy and greasy from there, but we were at home, so all was well.

Close-up of these beautiful birria tacos:

They must season and grill these corn tortillas, because they are some of the best corn tortillas I’ve ever had. They held up to a lot of heavy ingredients and hungry handling, and really helped make the tacos into something special.

Since this was my first visit, I couldn’t resist ordering something else for later, so I went with something completely different: the Jaeyook Korean pork burrito ($11.20), with white rice, black beans, cheese, sour crema, avocado, kimchi cabbage, perilla leaf (a plant in the mint family, related to Japanese shiso), and spicy gochujang sauce wrapped up in a huge flour tortilla. I often like burritos even more than tacos, but I wanted to try birria in its traditional taco form and get something else as a burrito.

This one was a little spicier from the gochujang sauce, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Like all the other food from The Pass, it was gorgeous, with such an eye-catching blend of colors and textures, in addition to all the flavors at play. All their burritos come with excellent fresh, crispy, salty tortilla chips that we shared, and a different salsa that was all mine.

Sauce gallery!

Here you see pickled red onions that came with something, garlic aioli that had a thinner, more crema-like consistency than I expected (50 cents), the most delicious pineapple chutney that was so sweet it could have gone on an ice cream sundae (50 cents), the guajillo chile salsa that would have come on my wife’s carne asada tacos that she asked for on the side, the salsa that came with the burrito and chips, and some tomatillo salsa. Of all of these, the pineapple chutney was the big winner for both of us, and I also loved the smoky guajillo chile salsa. I’d buy both of those by the jar or bottle.

As you might guess, The Pass Progressive Cuisine was a big hit, and I know we’re not the only people falling in love with their food. I expect the legend will only grow, so you (possibly) heard it here first, on The Saboscrivner! I can’t wait to return and try their Caribbean wings, their ancho-braised beef or chicken empanadas, their lobster tacos (with lobster consommé!), but I know I won’t be able to resist the birria, so I’ll just keep ordering multiple things. And in case you ever tire of tacos or burritos (the horror!), you can also get almost everything as enchiladas or quesadillas too.

Just remember that The Pass Progressive Cuisine doesn’t have seating, so it’s a takeout-only place — but that’s perfect during a pandemic anyway. And they are open Tuesday through Friday, 12 – 8 PM, and Saturdays 12 – 5 PM.