Red Pepper Taqueria is a bit like a Mexican version of Taco Mac, with a lot more "taco" and a lot less, um, "mac." There's a nice beer list (and even beer taps on some of the tables) Read more.
I recommend starting at lunch, when there's a $9 special that includes a smaller version, a nice little salad with olives and marinated cherry tomatoes and a chocolate chip-studded cannoli. Read more.
What's most impressive about Bell Street's burritos is that they shine despite their seeming simplicity. Read more.
AJ's Famous Seafood and PoBoys is the kind of neighborhood joint that kinda makes you wish you lived nearby, or at least drove by every once in a while. Read more.
This is the age of the coffeerestobakerbar. It's the kind of multitasking, morning to midnight place-to-be that can push espresso, scones, caramel corn, gratin, and cocktails all with equal aplomb. Read more.
The variety here is simply ridiculous. Where else in town can you pick up a $150 bottle of Dom Perignon, some organic cat food, and a Southern bánh mì sandwich with chicken liver pâté? Read more.
Cypress Street has the epitome-of-anti-health-food Sublime burger (aka Luther burger) with cheddar cheese and bacon, saddled in doughnuts instead of a bun. Read more.
The Lao specialties on offer range from the semi-familiar (green papaya salad) to the rarely seen (lard na, a dish of chewy rice noodles in a satisfying meaty gravy). Read more.
This is an uprising of Burgundy and baguettes, croissant and Champagne. Read more.
Ice cream parlors are not usually the place you go to find blowtorches and bacon, but no one ever accused Morelli's Gourmet Ice Cream of being a typical ice cream parlor. Read more.
The "little burgers" sing out like superb little sampled beats from the past — a bit like Krystal's slightly heftier and much better looking cousin Read more.
The Rusty Nail Pub, or just "the Nail" to its regulars, belongs to that strange group of restaurants and bars on and around Cheshire Bridge Road that seem to reside in a bygone era Read more.
The banh mi is a bargain of French-Vietnamese fusion that with comes cheap and fresh, fills you up, and is packed with enough flavor and crunchy contrast to obliterate almost any fast-food burger. Read more.