Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish (St. Petersburg)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CLOSED: La Femme Du Fromage

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Caravan Uzbek & Turkish Cuisine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kiko Japanese Cuisine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Cutting the Mustard III: Mustardy Agreement

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Corelli’s Pantry (Clermont)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sherry’s Trini Flavors

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Moderne

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Smoke & Donuts BBQ

Not to be confused with the similarly named Smoke & Dough in Miami, Orlando’s Smoke & Donuts (https://www.smokeanddonuts.com/) is a relatively new restaurant that started serving excellent barbecue and beautiful, festive cake doughnuts just over a year ago, right in one of the best foodie neighborhoods in the city, the Milk District.

My wife and I recently had our first meal at Smoke & Donuts, and me being me, I made sure we could sample as many things from their eclectic menu as possible.  The restaurant is open from 11 AM to 9 PM on weekdays, but on weekends, it opens at 9 AM for a brunch menu in addition to the full regular menu.  We figured that would give us even more options to choose from, especially with my weird work hours that prevent us from going out to eat during the week.  Luckily, there was plenty of parking and no wait shortly after 11 AM on a Saturday.

Once you arrive, you take a paper menu to study as you walk down a line where you can see those dazzling, decadent doughnuts on display, then the stations where the staff assembles barbecue bowls, sandwiches, and “boards” (really metal trays).  My wife sat down at an open table while I took the walk toward an extremely patient woman who took our large order at the end of the line.  It’s a familiar setup — you pay at the register, take a number, and then someone delivers your food to your table.

Before I reveal everything we ordered, here are the sauces diners will be able to choose from, since sauces are such an important part of the barbecue experience.  They are all in squeeze bottles over by the self-serve soda fountain, and there are plenty of tiny plastic cups with lids to fill with the six sumptuous sauces.  Over here you have toasted guajillo pepper, KC (Kansas City) sweet, spicy vinegar (it’s a North Carolina thing), and a marvelously thick hot sauce with visible spicy pepper seeds and a touch of sweetness.

Next to them, kept on ice, are Lowcountry SC (South Carolina) mustard sauce (kind of a creamy, herby, tangy mustard, not like bright yellow mustard or overly sweet honey mustard at all) and AL (Alabama) white barbecue sauce, which is creamy, tangy, and sweet.  You KNOW I tried them all!

Here’s my sauce lineup.  Before our food even arrived, as I was assembling our sauces, they brought us each a sample of a perfect, delicately seasoned, crunchy pork rind, which we both liked.  Pork rinds can be heavenly or a pointless waste of calories, and the seasoning usually makes all the difference.  But this one was very light, which was also nice.

My wife ordered a blueberry “MOCK-jito,” a delightful mocktail with fresh mint, lime, and fresh muddled blueberries.  She said it was so refreshing, and it was one of the highlights of this epic brunch.  I am so glad to see more restaurants offering interesting mocktails made with the same love and care as their alcoholic cocktails.  Thank you, Smoke & Donuts!

It wasn’t long before our meals were walked out to the table.  My wife and I each chose a Pit Sampler board, which comes with a choice of three meats and either one side and a piece of cornbread or a glazed doughnut (one of the more basic doughnuts, not the fancier ones).  She chose pork belly (on the left; smoked and prepared in a sous vide water bath), pulled smoked chicken slathered in the Alabama white barbecue sauce, and sliced brisket for her meats.  When I was given a choice of ordering her brisket lean or marbled, I chose marbled, which we both prefer.  With steak, brisket, or pastrami, when in doubt, go for the marbling!

Instead of a side, she opted for a cinnamon sugar cake doughnut.  Those pink strips are pickled red onions, something I love a lot (and make myself at home), but she has no interest in onions at all, or anything pickled.  Needless to say, I got them for myself, along with the rest of the house-made pickles and pickled onions in the top right corner of her tray.

For my Pit Sampler board, I purposely chose three different things, knowing we would offer each other samples of ours anyway.  I got chopped brisket (doused in TG sauce, the toasted guajillo pepper sauce), chorizo sausage, and St. Louis ribs (rubbed in “red chile and brown sugar slather”).
I chose baked beans for my side (see above), which included Kansas City sweet barbecue sauce, caramelized onions, sorghum, and stout.  And you can see my cornbread up there too.  But wanting us both to have a chance to try more sides, I also ordered a side sampler with three additional sides:

French fries, a necessity for dipping in the six different sauces:

Crunchy cucumber and cabbage slaw, shredded and tossed in a sherry and rice wine vinaigrette.  I didn’t even try this until later, when we got home with multiple boxes of leftovers, but I liked it a lot.  What a gourmet, nontraditional take on cole slaw.  It was a bit dry, even with the vinaigrette, but a little Alabama white sauce perked it up.

Rich macaroni and cheese, featuring cheddar, Swiss, Chihuahua, and cotija cheeses and a little lager.  This is definitely one of the best versions of mac and cheese in Orlando, and my far-and-away favorite of all the sides we sampled.

Here’s a close-up of my chopped brisket, which was good, although I think I would definitely opt for the sliced, marbled brisket in the future:

I had no idea how many ribs came in the sampler, but I have to be honest, I only expected one rib (making me think of Chris Rock in I’m Gonna Git You, Sucka, a movie I made my wife watch for the first time recently, still as funny as it was when it came out in 1988).  Imagine my surprise when the guy delivered the trays to our table, and there were three ribs, although he told me he accidentally gave me an extra one.  So normally you would get two in the Pit Sampler, and even that would have been great.  The ribs were my favorite of the three meats I ordered, by far.  They were so tender and smoky and sweet and spicy, easy to pull off the bone, but not exactly “falling off the bone” (barbecue mavens try to avoid that texture).

And from the brunch menu, my wife really wanted to try the biscuits that came with a trio of different flavors of soft, spreadable butter.  It looks like they change these flavors all the time, but today we got  mango, cilantro-jalapeño, and strawberry-basil butters.  My wife really loved the two fruity ones, and I liked all three.  The biscuits weren’t huge, but we also shared my cornbread and still had plenty of these rich, creamy, velvety butters left to bring home in the tiny plastic sauce cups.  Thank goodness for the lids!

We were as interested in those stunning doughnuts as we were in the barbecue, so we ordered more to take home and parcel out over the next few days.  On the left is a blonde blueberry doughnut we intended to share, with vanilla glaze, oat streusel, blueberry compote, and a chewy, buttery blueberry swirl blondie (the triangle “hat” on top, definitely a fascinator).  In the middle is a red velvet doughnut my wife chose, with chocolate glaze, red velvet fudge, and a lightly crispy meringue on top, like a little beret sitting at a jaunty angle.  On the right is a passion petal dancer, the most butch-sounding dessert name ever.  I chose that one as soon as I saw it includes passion fruit cremeaux (I don’t even know how to pronounce that), lemon pavlova, and a dehydrated strawberry.

And this was one last doughnut for me, back at home: the key lime doughnut, with candied lemonade glaze, ginger snap streusel, key lime pavlova, and meringue.  Good grief, this was so good.         All the doughnuts from Smoke & Donuts BBQ are cake doughnuts, so they are really dense, heavy, and on the drier side, but not crumbly.  If you’re craving the light airiness of yeasty Krispy Kreme doughnuts, then go to Krispy Kreme.  But you’ll miss out on these lovely, luxurious, cakey creations.

We were lucky enough to meet Smoke & Donuts’ chef-owner Ian Russell, a graduate of the only CIA that makes the world a better place, the Culinary Institute of America.  He worked as an actor (appearing in at least one local production with my wife when they were both a lot younger!) and some other interesting careers before founding Smoke & Donuts as a food truck.  After building a reputation there, he then moved into the current space, directly next door to one of Orlando’s most famous and beloved restaurants, Se7en Bites.  I was impressed that Chef Russell went around from table to table, introducing himself and asking his guests how everything was, and that’s when my wife recognized him from when they were in Cyrano together.  Then the lady who had so patiently taken my large order introduced herself as his mother, and she stopped by to check up on us and kvell about her successful son.

I would be proud too.  Chef Russell and his entire staff (including his mom) were wonderful.  We felt very welcome and had a terrific brunch/early lunch that ended up being the only meal we needed for the rest of the day, with plenty of leftovers for the next couple of days.  The ribs and mac and cheese were definitely my favorites of everything we tried, but I would return just for a big ol’ order of fries so I could use them as sauce delivery devices, the sauces were that good.  People are intense (and intensely loyal) when it comes to barbecue.  Orlando is lucky to have some good options (along with Briskets in Oviedo and Smokemade opening a permanent location soon), and Smoke & Donuts is definitely among the best.  The Milk District has another winner, and since they have lasted over a year in this location, I’m sure they aren’t going anywhere.  Come try them when you’re craving meat and sauce, and they even offer smoky jackfruit for vegetarians!

Somebody Feed Phil visited Orlando; check out my reviews of Phil’s stops!

It has been just over a week since Netflix released the seventh season of Somebody Feed Phil, the food and travel show starring Phil Rosenthal, who your parents may know as the creator of long-running TV sitcom Everybody Loves Raymond.  Phil is not a trained chef, and he would be the first person to admit he isn’t a cool or edgy dude.  The appeal of his show is just that he’s a nice, enthusiastic, funny fellow who loves to eat… not unlike your friendly neighborhood Saboscrivner.  Somebody Feed Phil shares Phil’s enjoyable and entertaining visits to unique and iconic restaurants in cities around the world, and the show always highlights the people who cook and serve the meals that Phil eats with such joy and enthusiasm.  It’s feel-good TV that leaves you hungry, but also happy, with a little more hope for humanity.

And in Season 7, Phil finally visited Orlando!  It was an absolutely lovely episode about “The Real” Orlando, eschewing the theme parks and tourist traps, focusing instead on the wonderful locally owned and operated restaurants that enrich and empower our diverse, cosmopolitan, tolerant community.

I am so happy for the restaurants I know and love (several of which I have reviewed here on this very blog) to gain some well-deserved national exposure, and for friends and acquaintances of mine — awesome people who I am lucky to know, who make our city more beautiful — to have been featured in the episode.  Congratulations to all the restaurant owners, to the Orlando Sentinel‘s lovely and talented food writer Amy Drew Thompson, to Tasty Chomps! blog and Orlando Foodie Forum founder Ricky Ly, and to Orlando’s brave, bold, badass Florida Representative Anna V. Eskamani.  And thank you to Phil Rosenthal, you big ol’ mensch, for showcasing so much of what makes Orlando special.

So, in an effort to cross-promote, here are my reviews of all the restaurants Phil Rosenthal visited in his “Real Orlando” episode:

Even if you don’t live here to kvell over familiar people, places, and foods, and even if you don’t usually watch Somebody Feed Phil, I encourage you to watch the episode.  They could not have done a better job of making our city look good, just like I try to do with my blog.