Ethnic & Specialty Restaurants

Pastry chef Richard Ruskell could impress us with just his star-quality résumé: award after pastry award in eight years at our Valley's world-class Mary Elaine's. He could win us over with the clever hiring of Scott Fausz from Scottsdale's stellar Pierre's Pastries. Ruskell certainly gets our warm thoughts for naming his shop after his beloved Dalmatian, whose photos are proudly displayed on the wall.

But it's Ruskell's breakfast pastries, desserts and chocolates that bring us to our knees in genuflection. Flaky croissants -- plain, cinnamon, chocolate -- burst with butter. Soft brioche are gorgeously fat with custard, almond cream and orange, cinnamon and almonds, cream cheese and fresh blackberries, or lemon cheese.

And what can we say about his hand-sculpted pastries, except, "Wow!" Our favorite is the light-as-air Tuzigoot, with vanilla Bavarian, fresh fruit and mango gelée.

Ruskell also designs custom chocolates in the winter months, adding such sensations as tangerine/caramel mousse to chocolates from Michel Cluizel, a family-owned chocolatier in Normandy. Oh, Maxine, we're not worthy. But we'll come anyway.

Best Barbecue
Honey Bear's Bar-B-Q
5012 East Van Buren
602-273-9148
2824 North Central
602-279-7911

Best Chinese Restaurant
P.F. Chang's China Bistro
several Valley locations

Best Coffee House
Starbucks
several Valley locations

Best French Restaurant
La Madeleine French Bakery and Cafe
several Valley locations

Best Greek Restaurant
Greekfest
1940 East Camelback
602-265-2990

Best Indian Restaurant
Delhi Palace
5050 East McDowell
602-244-8181
16842 North Seventh Street
602-942-4224
933 East University, Tempe
480-921-2200

Best Italian Restaurant
Olive Garden
several Valley locations

Best Japanese Restaurant
RA Sushi Bar
411 South Mill, Tempe
480-303-9800
3815 North Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale
480-990-9256

Best New Restaurant
Garduño's Margarita Factory
Shops at Gainey Village
8787 North Scottsdale Road, Suite A-102, Scottsdale
480-607-9222

Best Sandwich Shop
Subway
several Valley locations

Best Seafood Restaurant
Red Lobster
several Valley locations

Best Smoothie/juice Shop
Jamba Juice
several Valley locations

Best Southwestern Restaurant
Z'Tejas Grill
several Valley locations

Best Steak Restaurant
Outback Steakhouse
several Valley locations

French food has always been considered special treat fare, and with opulent names like poisson ou fruit de mer à la discretion du chef, croque monsieur and les frittes à la Parisienne, it's no wonder. Sophie's, though, brings flights of fancy down to earth, with fantastic food that, once we know what it is, feels like an old friend. That poisson thing? It's the catch of the day, and if we're lucky, it's seared tuna in a marvelous peppery crust. Croque is no crock -- it's a broiled shaved ham and Gruyère sandwich that puts a new spin on upscale deli dining. And frittes? How about French fries, and not your everyday spuds but glorious crispy shoestrings served in a bowl so huge that McDonald's supersizing looks like fluff.

Sophie's serves the classics, of course: les escargots traditionnels (Burgundy-style snails in herbed garlic butter), soupe à l'oignon des halles (onion soup), salade niçoise, quiche and crepes. But there's none of the stiffness associated with French dining here, just a cozy little cottage with hardwood floors and lace curtains and, on weekends, live baby grand piano music.

Charles Taylor -- "Sir" to his friends -- has changed his location since he started barbecuing in the Valley in 1969, but not his food -- out-of-this-world pecan-smoked meats, tangy sauce and a dazzling display of belly-filling side dishes. Sir Charles' edge-charred pork ribs fall off the bone at our softest tooth-tug. Beef ribs and brisket are beauties, juicy pulled pork is perfection, and smoked turkey remains moist under its deep, woody flavoring. Texas-style sauce, mild or hot, is good enough to be sipped straight, with a hint of tomatoes and no thick, sugary glop we too often find elsewhere. Sir Charles' sides are meal makers: greens, soupy Texas beans, black-eyed peas, garlic mashers, sweet potatoes and, best of all, green beans and cabbage, with lots of salt, butter and pork. Need more to stick to your ribs? Sweet-potato pie or peach and apple cobblers will leave you feeling like royalty.

Neither of these carne asada emporiums is in any upper-crust neighborhood. There's not much to impress from the outside. But we're not going in anyway; we're barely slowing down, even, pausing just long enough to place our order at the speaker and, within minutes, make off with our booty of remarkably inexpensive, tasty Mexican food.

Vaquero's is open 24 hours a day -- a big bonus. There's an awesome selection, so we never get bored -- an even bigger bonus. Its meats are grilled to order, and paired with fresh extras -- the biggest bonus yet. Count 'em up: 23 combination plates, 12 taco choices, five tostadas, 10 tortas, four enchiladas, five shrimp dishes, and 20 burritos. Breakfast is served around the clock, with 11 options, and on weekends, there's homemade menudo.

Muy impressive, no? Sí.

Good food, just like llama used to make. That's the inspiration behind Peruanitos, owned by the de Arriola family, a group of talented chefs relocated from Peru. The charm is visible in the decor, bright and cheerful, and yes, decorated with giant stuffed toy llamas. It's even more apparent in the food, a celebration of one of the world's oldest, most sophisticated cuisines.

Peru is about potatoes, and Peruanitos showcases the spuds. We adore papas a la huancaina, layering thick slabs of boiled potato and onion strips with a neon-yellow, creamy cheese sauce, topped with sliced hard-boiled egg, black olives and a whole lot of heat from fiery rocoto or aji amarillo chile sauce dashed in. It's the perfect appetizer to lead us into carapulera, a classic Incan dish of papseca (freeze-dried potatoes) with large chunks of pork in velvety, mildly spiced, orange-colored sauce with nuts. And we lust after adobo de chancho, a succulent concoction of marinated, slow-cooked pork with an electric, spicy undercut of serious chile heat. It's moist and meaty, and cools down a touch with fluffy rice and chilled sweet potatoes.

It's easy to become bored by same-old, same-old classic American food. Yet we've become overwhelmed by chefs conjuring up crazy concoctions like wasabi-glazed truffles in caramelized cognac with anchovy chutney. That's why we're so taken with the Asian-influenced American cuisine served at Elements. Rather than shtick, Chef Chuck Wiley wisely keeps Asia to an accent, focusing on the beauty of fresh ingredients and carefully honed flavors. Wiley changes the menu monthly, and offers unusual delicacies such as devil-fried oysters, breaded panko-style and served on the half shell atop a massive bowl of rock salt with tangy baby spinach and cucumber slaw. He wakes up sleepy salmon, crisp-edged from the grill, salt-and-peppery skinned, lounging on a nest of tangy braised greens, snow peas, sesame, ginger and somen noodles. Even traditional favorites have energy, such as the hefty filet mignon, paired with garlic mashed potatoes topped with melted bleu cheese and sweet soft onion strips. With its plush Camelback Mountain address and fabulous views of Paradise Valley below, Elements has everything it needs to be a special experience.

The word "chain" conjures up images of cookie-cutter chow and surroundings, unimaginative stuff created to appeal to the masses. That's why Chart House breaks the chain for us. The place is too pretty to be prefab, with lots of dark woods, a clubby, upscale style and unparalleled lakeside views, particularly at sunset.

The cuisine isn't chain-style, either. The fish is always market-fresh, and you can always get Pacific swordfish, Hawaiian mahi-mahi and yellowfin ahi, or California bluenose bass, served grilled, baked or blackened. Other preparations are more creative, like pan-seared sea scallops in ginger-soy broth, ginger-crusted miso halibut, or sesame-crusted salmon with coconut peanut sauce. Meats are a marvel, too, particularly the succulent prime rib, rack of lamb and filet mignon. Nothing beats the salad bar, either, groaning with a huge, gorgeous collection of things like fresh-tossed caesar with real anchovies, hearts of palm, marinated vegetables, and two kinds of rich, salty caviar.

Chain or not, we're charting our course to Chart House.

Think you've had a mixed green salad? Not until you've experienced this one, stocked with sprouts, carrots, pumpkin and sunflower seeds, tomato wedges and cucumber slices. Stir-fry shines, too, like the saguaro sesame tofu, tossing baked bean curd with steamed broccoli, carrots, zucchini, napa cabbage and ponzu vinaigrette over brown rice. We also love the Southwestern green corn tamale, studded with dairy-free black beans and topped with red pepper slices, black olives and parsley, all served over rice. Partaking of pizza? Go for the Arizona native, an herb crust piled high with soy mozzarella, green chile sauce, tomatoes, black olives, roasted red bell peppers, avocado, red onion and cilantro. For health food that makes us happy, nobody pleases us more than Desert Greens Cafe.

This place desperately needs to edit down its name to something you can say without taking a breath in the middle, but that's okay. Its noble intentions make up for it. As the menu says: "With respect for all life, we proudly serve all dishes free of meat, poultry, fish, eggs, and MSG." (We always knew MSG was a living parasite; now it's confirmed.)

What makes this vegetarian house so interesting is that it seeks to replicate the taste of animals instead of killing them for it. Substitutions are carefully crafted of soy and other mysterious ingredients to mimic meats, including veggie beef, veggie eel, veggie pork, veggie goose, veggie chicken, veggie squid, veggie shrimp, veggie fish, veggie duck and veggie meatballs. Some presentations are actually molded into shapes that look like the real thing. And, surprisingly enough, Supreme Master carries off this unusual concept with winning cuisine.

The cuisine at Mueller's can be difficult to pronounce -- gebackner camenbert mit preiselbeeren, for example -- but it's easy to swallow. Gebackner is a small baked round of Camembert served with sweet-sour lingonberries. Along with cream of carrot soup or herring in cream sauce gussied with apples and onions, it makes for an appealing appetizer.

Entrees are just as energetic, including altburger töpfle (pork tenderloin in a rich mushroom gravy over homemade spätzle noodles), Wiener schnitzel (breaded veal sautéed in butter), rinderfilet mit pfifferlinge (beef medallions with chanterelle mushrooms), and tunnes potz (pork tenderloin on a bed of spinach topped with a zesty tomato sauce).

Desserts? But of course. Try Black Forest cake or apple strudel.

Great German food, served in a great German setting, by owners with great German accents -- it doesn't get any better than this.

Chef Vincent Guerithault's eponymous eatery, tucked into an (who would believe it?) office park between a gas station and a massage parlor, celebrated its 15th anniversary this year. When he first introduced his menu, people scoffed: a combination of classic French cooking with flavors of Mexico and the American Southwest -- in a town that didn't even stock cilantro in its grocery stores? Now that exotic herbs are available even at Safeway, the James Beard-celebrated Vincent's is still at the top of its class. We pray he never deprives us of his duck tamale with Anaheim chile, lobster chimichanga with basil pesto, and salmon quesadilla -- house-smoked fish laid over a thin, phyllo-like crust dabbed with dill and horseradish cream. Trends come and go. With Vincent's, however, superb Southwestern is here to stay.

When chef Jeffrey Beeson took over tiny Convivo this year, a great thing just got better. The setting in this modest place off a strip mall parking lot is casual, but the eats are all glamour -- American classics goosed up with unexpected flavors. Local produce is a star here, and we get our daily vitamins with the Convivo Collection, an ever-changing assortment of grilled vegetables that might include leeks, red pepper, Japanese eggplant, carrots and zucchini, delightfully paired with garlicky hummus, salami, barley salad and pecan-crusted goat cheese. Appetizers are adventurous -- an edgy house-cured salmon nesting with crispy fried ravioli in a pineapple butter sauce with peppery nasturtium leaves, for example. Entrees are outright excitement, such as coconut-crusted ahi tuna topped with fried calamari and slicked in plum-marigold-mint vinaigrette alongside soba noodles. And for dessert, our favorites are the guajillo chile-squash flan in fragrant cinnamon syrup, or a fudgy ancho-chile brownie. With food this stunning, we're more proud than ever to say that we're American.

There's something decidedly unromantic about having your éclair handed to you by a person wearing a cowboy hat or a teenager who repeatedly uses the word "like" as a modifier. Rest assured that this will never happen to you at Au Petit Four French Pastry and Bakery, located between a pair of escalators on the ground level of the Camelback Esplanade. Recently opened by a newly arrived Frenchman, Au Petit Four offers delicious, authentic pastries, salads, sandwiches and quiches with a flourish and a friendly (and correctly pronounced) "Bonjour!" Whether you crave a croissant, a brioche, a "Parisian salade," or just an earful of wonderful French accent, Au Petit Four is pure Gaul.

If Helen had a face that could launch a thousand ships, then Greekfest serves entrees that can launch a thousand tips. Greekfest has been our favorite for too many years to count, and somehow, it keeps getting better. Owners Susan and Tony Makridis have built an empire of the senses, with stunning flavors, a Grecian palace setting, and personality so charming we can't help but shout "Opa!" when our saganaki arrives. How could we restrain, as the mild kefalograviera cheese is soaked with brandy, then dramatically flambéed at our table? If we want exotica, we slurp oktapodi skaras (grilled octopus in cabernet sauce). When we're feeling a little more traditional, we go for the moussakas (slices of baked eggplant and ground lamb with béchamel and cheese), or roasted rack of baby lamb dressed with pine nuts. Greekfest is a festival of flavors we're happy to attend all year long.

There are those days when nothing will satisfy your culinary cravings like oyster omakase. You know the feeling. Hey, when that mood hits, head for Hapa Sushi Lounge. Omakase, of course, means a multicourse chef's choice dinner (in Japanese). And at Hapa, depending on the bounty of the day, it can be an upscale orgy of mollusks exquisitely paired, if you like, with wine, sake, sparkling wine and champagne. Perhaps the selection will include a trio of Washington State oysters, served in-shell on a long sushi-style tray. Different varieties are presented hot, in a sauce of sake, soy, grape seed oil and chives; or cold as palate refreshers, in varying baths of ponzu, spicy daikon and green onion or lime and chile. Playing the perfect partner is wonderfully smooth Kurosawa Daiginjo sake. In this Valley's shell game, Hapa Sushi Lounge is a guaranteed winner.

Haiku, the poetry, tries to capture life's emotion in a few simple lines. Haiku, the restaurant, is -- as its menu gushes -- a blend of "poetic food and art." And it succeeds in capturing the best of local Japanese dining experiences in a tiny, 10-table spot with a brief, uncomplicated menu and always-fresh ingredients. Like its namesake, Haiku embraces simplicity with only the finest elements represented. Tonkatsu comes as only authentic tonkatsu should: with shredded cabbage. New Zealand mussels are stuffed with real crab and a creamy mushroom sauce, then slid under a broiler. Salad is spectacular, with cucumber, seaweed strips, daikon sprouts and smelt roe tossed in ponzu. The signature Haiku steak is topped with grilled asparagus and shiitake mushrooms under a drizzle of enoki mushroom sauce. Memorizing poetry in high school was no fun. Today, we can't get enough of it, served as it is at Haiku.

Sushi is sushi, right? Really, it's just rice, mixed with vinegar, and topped with stuff. Raw tuna. Yellowtail. Maybe some nori (seaweed), or, for a splurge, a quail egg. It's not even cooked. So what makes a sushi chef a chef? A few minutes watching the professionals at Sushi on Shea is all the answer you need. It's art in motion, watching these guys craft a simple California roll. Ask them to surprise you, then watch them let loose on their own artistic creations, as they flash knives, slice fish and vegetables into impossible shapes, and arrange a colorful plate worthy of hanging in a museum. But what makes the true difference, of course, is taste. And nobody is more consistently superb than Sushi on Shea. Only the freshest seafood -- ruby-red tuna, sparkling smooth hamachi, and silky salmon -- is used. Any of the daily specials, posted on the chalkboard above the sushi counter, are spectacular. Oh Shea, can you sea? You bet.

There are plenty of places to get cheap sushi; fast-food Japanese shacks abound in our town. But you get what you pay for: flabby, skimpy fish rolls that have been sitting in their plastic trays for hours before you order. And there's usually little choice in these bargain joints; maybe a California roll, sometimes a tuna roll or cucumber roll, perhaps some salmon. Then there's Origami's. While this place serves its food fast, you'd never know it to sample the sushi. All selections are hand-rolled to order, right before our eyes. The variety is magnificent, competing with our better full-service sushi shops. And the portions are unparalleled: An order of spicy tuna rolls, at just $3.99, brings a platter of eight jumbo pieces -- more the size of California rolls than the traditional teeny tekka maki rolls -- and stuffed with fish the thickness of our thumbs. At Origami's, we say sushi, good buy.

Jean Paul Sartre opined that "Hell is other people." For those who agree, heaven must be a sushi happy hour so tasty and affordable that you don't mind being surrounded by that most annoying variety of Other People: shoppers at Scottsdale Fashion Square. On weekdays from 3 to 7 p.m., and from 9 to 11 p.m., Kona Grill offers select half-price sushi rolls, $4 sake bombers, and half-price appetizers -- including Sweet Maui Onion Rings, among the best onion rings in the Valley. For folks who hate a crowd, this is a Faustian bargain, since Kona Grill's bar is ever-jammed with sunless-tanner-loving androids discussing condo interest rates. After some tuna wasabi and a few rounds of sake, however, the crowd will seem positively existential.

Over there, it's pronounced "cuisine de Cooba." Over here, it's pronounced Havana Cafe. However you say it, Havana Cafe is tiny but classy, and the breadth of the menu is breathtaking. We find it hard to choose, so we love the combinacion de favoritas -- a mouth-watering platter of moros (white rice cooked with black beans), tamal Cubano (tamale of fresh ground corn, pork and sofrito seasoning), yucca frita (a fried, potatolike vegetable), platanos maduros fritos (fried ripe plantain), and ensalada de col (cabbage in a lime, garlic and cilantro vinaigrette). Paella is always a showstopper, too: a huge pan brimming with fresh Maine lobster, Manila clams, green-lip mussels, bay scallops, Gulf shrimp, chicken breast, Spanish chorizo, pork, Valencia rice and imported saffron. Stamp our passport! We're going to Havana Cafe.

Some folks think the only thing a bakery can crank out is sweets. We know better. Pastries are wonderful, but don't overlook more-filling foods, like the delectable wechez, deep-fried potato brimming with ham and cheese. Papa relleno takes the edge off your hunger, bringing a crisp croquette stuffed with mashed potatoes and ground beef, while Argentine-style empanadas are ethereal turnovers plump with ground beef.

This doesn't mean you should pass on dessert, of course; finish up with flaky quesitos, buttery puff pastry ribboned with sweetened cream cheese; or tembleque, a cinnamon-coconut pudding. Other showstoppers include pastelito guayaba (guava turnover), dreamy-creamy cheese flan, and fluffy tres leches cake.

For stunning Puerto Rican taste treats, K-Rico is A-OK.

We love the concept of tapas: little bites of exciting foods that give us a full spectrum of flavors without filling us up too much. Havana Patio Cafe takes tapas to the top, with a stunning selection of more than two dozen petite plates. Often, the merry place hosts tapas with Spanish wine tastings, too. And there's a daily happy hour from 4 to 6 p.m., with half-price tapas and drink specials.

These bites are bargain-priced already, most around $4. Which is good, because we order a lot: tortilla Español (potato pie with tomato sherry sauce), zesty black bean fritters with Calypso avocado dip, a gorgeous tamal Cubano stuffed with corn, pork and sofrito seasoning, and chicken empanaditas with mushrooms, peppers and onions. We're also smitten with shrimp pancakes, escabeche (tuna pickled in savory Spanish olive oil, cider vinegar with sweet peppers and pimento-stuffed olives), and papa rellena, a potato croquette stuffed with picadillo and topped with tangy cilantro sauce.

As its name suggests, Copper Kettle is a melting pot of the best of its region, with cuisine spanning Afghanistan, Pakistan and northern India in this cozy, casual place. These chefs are talented, firing up a sizzling tandoori grill for clay-oven-cooked marinated meats, poultry and seafood that are moist and rich. Curries bring a subtle blend of meat and herbs simmering in a broth of onions, tomatoes, ginger and garlic. And there's nuttin' better than mutton, mounded on basmati rice gilded with saffron and spices. Now that's a fine Copper Kettle of fresh.

Tucked into a strip mall a ways east of Tempe's beaten path is a charming little alternative to the noisy Mill Avenue chain coffee-house scene. It has all the prerequisites for a good coffee-house experience: lots of parking, plenty of comfortable seating inside and out, and (of course) a wide selection of hot and iced coffee drinks.

But it's the little extras that keep us coming back. The Muse offers freshly baked pastries and muffins (try the Morning Glory) as well as salads, bagels, sandwiches -- even milk shakes. The decor (photography by local artists, sponge-painted walls) is crunchy without being too hippie-dippy, as is the clientele. A favorite feature: a calendar of events for almost every evening, including what must be a unique Valley offering: Lesbian Scrabble on Tuesday nights.

With laptop plug-ins, we certainly know where to go to find our muse -- and a good latte, besides.

It's called "the French paradox": Even with diets high in saturated fat, the French tend to live longer. Experts think part of it has to do with tossing back two or three glasses of wine a day, which apparently combats heart disease and cancer.

Au Petit is the perfect place to test this theory, kicking back with a mouth-watering selection of fancy French pastries, sandwiches, salads and quiche. And while there's no wine served, stop in at Vintage Grape just a few doors down in the Biltmore Fashion Park, and pick up a bottle of your own. (Bring your own glasses and corkscrew, too.) Sip your favorites, and save money, too, by not paying restaurant markup as you match beverage choices with golden flaky croissants, apple turnovers, palmier and scones with Arizona Harvest organic jam and butter. Dessert wines go beautifully with eclairs, fudge cakes, fruit tarts, Napoleons, slabs of Bavarian flan or custard cream. And a nice, dry white lends even more class to an elegant quiche.

We love Au Petit Four. So it doesn't have a liquor license? You won't hear us wine-ing about it.

"Hapa" is Hawaiian slang for "half." This describes the Japanese-American background of chef-owner James McDevitt, who -- along with wife Stacey -- brings us American classics infused with Asian electricity. Asian fusion is everywhere these days, with one local place we know of even mixing French foie gras with Chinese five-spice -- how weird is that? But Hapa knows when to exercise restraint, from its simple, refined decor to dynamite delicacies such as seared California squab with kabocha squash purée, Chinese broccoli and Thai basil oil, to New York steak dressed simply with caramelized Chinese mustard and served with Japanese sticky rice and Chinese long beans. For dessert? Sweet dim sum such as chocolate parchment pot stickers, and banana crème brûlée with toasted coconut. Both have us hapa to be alive.

It has taken owner Daniel Malventano eight years to bring his restaurant into the honest-to-goodness big leagues, but today he's making gnocchi with the best of them. Acqua e Sale has evolved from a casual bistro (with black-and-white checkerboard floors, no less), and now sports sleek cherry wood and stylish, ornately framed black-and-gold prints.

But the real revelation here is the food -- including prosciutto d'anatra (whisper-thin duck breast edged with truffle oil), black truffle-spread crostini, and buffalo mozzarella. The traditional Italian fare holds up, too, with such choices as capellini con pomodorino freschi (angel hair pasta in a tomato, basil, garlic and olive-oil sauce), or osso buco mounded over fettuccine in a deep brown vegetable sauce. Even the simplest della campagna salad is magic, a minimalist marvel of field greens and organic tomatoes tossed in olive oil and squeezed with fresh lemon.

A pretty place, plus beautiful food? To that, we say, chow bella!

We love Italian food in New York -- its unpretentious recipes, its massive portions, its bargain prices. But we'd rather pass on the other part of the experience: gruff service and tables jammed too close together. No, we're happy as bugs in a desert rug to stay in the Valley, especially when we can find the same East Coast food experience at New York's Best without any of the hassle. The setting is friendly, with its choice of polite table service or quick-order counter help. This is like-mama-used-to-make stuff, including spaghetti and meatballs, baked ziti, chicken parmigiana and homemade sausage, as well as excellent calzones, pizzas, cold subs, hot subs and cheese steaks. At dinner, we can get a little more dressy -- orecchietti alla vodka, shrimp scampi linguini, gnocchi pomodoro. Let the Gotham city folks grump their way to good eats. Here in the Valley of the Sun, we can get the same stuff with a smile.

This bright and shiny little convenience store feels like it was transplanted straight out of Tokyo. The greasy hot dogs, sickly-sweet snack cakes and gargantuan Big Gulps are markedly absent. In their place, you can grab a salmon o-bento (a pretty arrangement of grilled salmon, rice and vegetable side dishes), some pastel-colored daifuku rice cakes filled with sweet red bean paste, or a six-pack of miniature Sapporo beers. And unlike its American counterparts, Fujiya carries a huge range of ingredients for making a tasty home-cooked meal, Japanese-style, including frozen octopus, dried seaweed, udon noodles and a different sauce for every possible dish. It even has hard-to-find items like enoki mushrooms and fresh quail eggs. After we pick out shampoo from the toiletries, snag some cute lacquered chopsticks and rent a videotape of a Japanese television drama, the only stop left on our little consumerist tour of Japan is the corner shelf of good sake. Kampai!

Toss in a few rickshaws streaking through the aisles, and visiting Lee Lee would be as authentic an experience as any of Asia's bustling open-air markets. Weekends are a zoo here, as happy cookers claw over piles of fresh produce, exotic meats, seafood, herbs and spices. What an incredible selection: bitter melon, long beans and Asian pear, plus an endless array of bok choy, eggplants, tofus and noodles.

Some things are acquired tastes, like the three-color dessert fashioned from cassava, sweet potato, mung bean, seaweed, peanuts, coconut and sugar. And it takes a confident cook to bring some of the meats and fish into the kitchen: salmon belly and head, gaspergou, barracuda, goat, duck feet and pork uterus.

But we never hesitate over such hard-to-find items as live crab, mussels, clams, tilapia, catfish and carp, or on-ice critters including squid, cuttlefish, massive shrimp, rabbit loin, filet and deer flank. Whatever we need, it's here -- fresh banana leaves, rice steamers, incense, oyster sauce, Thai iced tea, avocado ice cream and pickled lemon.

We love ya, Lee Lee.

The most we've ever won gambling is a free drink or two. But our luck definitely turned when we discovered this hidden treasure tucked in the far back of a local gaming hall. Cholla is an upscale restaurant with all the elements of a sure bet: complimentary valet parking, a comfortable setting, polished, unobtrusive service and noteworthy cuisine. After dinner, there's another bonus: live entertainment in the cushy lounge adjacent to Cholla.

Appetizers are awesome, such as crispy fresh-grilled asparagus with prosciutto and shredded phyllo napped in a zippy citrus vinaigrette; sweet lobster and shrimp puff pastry on a lush fire-roasted red-pepper cream; or fat chile rellenos with forest mushroom duxelles and smoky Gouda corn sauce.

Entrees challenge our established "name" restaurants, with specialties like pan-roasted pheasant married with cabernet cassis (black currant), roasted shallots, cranberry-apple conserve and vegetable couscous. The veal chop is out of this world.

Kicking back with coffee and sinful desserts, it's almost impossible to believe we're just a few feet from frenzied gamblers in this clubby dining room (just 10 tables or so), with a soaring, leaded-glass wall that separates us from the slots.

Oh, and the final score? The casino doesn't charge any tax. On a meal that averages $85 for two -- an easy tab at Cholla -- we figure we've won an extra glass of Teifen Pinot Grigio. Now that's real luck.

A lot of the dishes at Cafe Istanbul are really healthful, fat-free and low-calorie. But don't hold that against them. Lay into the lamb appetizer, layered with creamy hummus and pine nuts, or the tender, tangy, stuffed grape leaves. And on a warm day, nothing soothes as much as labni, a velvety yogurt cheese dip garnished with cucumber, tomatoes, olives and pure olive oil to be scooped with pita.

Cafe Istanbul offers endless variety in entrees, and excellent value, too. Meals are served with soup or salad, rice or vegetables and pita bread. The shrimp scampi is stellar, sautéed in special Lebanese seasonings, as is the vegetarian dinner of zucchini, eggplant, spinach, carrots, banana squash and sweet potatoes in a luscious white sauce. Or just taste it all in a huge platter: The Al Amir combo brings a bounty of hummus, tabbouleh, stuffed grape leaves, feta cheese, baba ghanouj, mjadara, loubyeh, falafel, lamb, chicken and kafta kebab.

We love meals on wheels. As long as the meals are prepared by C-Fu, and the wheels belong to the dim sum carts careening around the warehouse-size dining room seven days a week. Just sit tight and wait for a cart to bring you more than 60 choices to tempt your taste buds. Chow fun noodles, Chinese broccoli, pork siu mai and baked barbecue pork buns are must-eats. Delectable dumplings stuffed with meat or seafood, fried shrimp balls, sticky rice in lotus leaf, stuffed eggplant and turnip cakes are winners, too. Weekends are particularly delightful, offering sum-thing special with contemporary plates starring seafood.

Asian dining is hot these days. The cuisine is now available even at Valley eateries that feature pizza and hamburgers. So how's a China girl to get a second look anymore? George and Son's knows the answer: superior quality, and ample choice. Primarily Chinese, the menu also borrows from Korea, Thailand, Vietnam, Burma and Singapore, and spruces things up with an ambitious wine list. Consider the Asian mussels appetizer, steamed and served open-shell in a broth braced with ginger root and lemongrass. Or George's seafood pocket, an ultra-crisp, folded-over pancake studded with scallions and stuffed with finely chopped shrimp, crab, scallops, onion and green pepper. And where else can you get Mandalay Nungyi alongside your egg roll? Udon-style noodles are tumbled with white onion curls, cilantro leaves, and shredded chicken in a mild, charmingly gritty Burmese curry seasoning zipped with lemon, a light sauce and little chunks of roasted garlic. And for value with taste, steamed salmon is voluptuous, easily two pounds of fish in a supercharged black bean sauce. For our money, George and Son's is a chop shop worth hopping to right away.

Tucked away in the back of an antique mall, Serendipity Tea Room offers the perfect respite from the hustle and bustle of the real world. The British tradition of midday tea is honored here Monday through Saturday from 1:30 to 4:30 p.m., with a prix fixe menu for $16.95 and more varieties of caffeinated beverages than you thought existed. Start out with a pot of your favorite loose tea (the decaffeinated currant tea is delicious with milk and sugar) and a freshly baked scone spread with sweet Devonshire cream and homemade lemon curd. Plentiful varieties of finger sandwiches can satisfy less dainty appetites, but save room for the other courses -- like cheesy quiche and one of several homemade desserts. A visit to Serendipity Tea Room is like a culinary spa treatment -- one that's become so popular, you'll have to make reservations at least a day in advance.

Silver Dragon looks like a typical Chinese chop suey house from the outside, from the inside, and from a glance at its primary menu. But ask for the real thing, the menu written in Chinese with just the briefest of English descriptions, and you'll be led to a private dining room, set with family-style tables. For anyone who's ever had authentic Chinese cuisine, there's nothing more soul-satisfying, and you'll find it here. Chuck the chow mein and skip the sweet-and-sour. Go for sumptuous winter melon soup, fat with crab meat. Follow it up with Three Delight, swimming with succulent scallops, shrimp and squid anchored by crisp vegetables and fried milk puffs, or the salt and pepper shrimp, served shell-on for crunchy satisfaction. Whole duck, crispy Hong Kong chicken dipped in salt, calamari steak and any of almost a dozen hot pot dishes are fabulous, too.

We simply can't get our fill of pho. This little joint may be short on ambiance, but maxing out at just $4.50 for an enormous bowl of the savory broth, it's a place where we can afford to eat every meal. Our favorite pho is the tai gau, swimming with brisket, rare eye of round (the meat cooks in its steaming, highly herbed broth) and skinny noodles. When other dishes seduce, bun cha gio thit nuong often wins, tumbling rice vermicelli over greens and cucumber, topped with crisp sliced spring rolls and seasoned grilled pork. Canh chua ca is tempting, too, with lots of moist catfish, pineapple and vegetables in a spicy lemon broth.

With 80 appetizers and entrees to select from, we'll never get bored. Which is good, because suddenly, we have an irresistible urge to visit Pho Bang again.

Most restaurants get cranky if you play with open flame at your table. At Arisoo, they actually encourage it. Okay, so it's a grill set into the table, powered by a gas burner, so you can cook thin strips of meat to your liking, but still, it's leaping flame.

Pyro or no, anyone who loves Korean food will be enraptured here. Deaji bulgogi is a treasured thing -- sliced pork, marinated in a nuclear red pepper sauce, to be grilled, then wrapped with lettuce, garlic, jalapeños, and a bit of salty mung bean paste. We also romance gal bi (short ribs), bul go gi (thin-sliced beef) and sometimes heu mit gui (beef tongue), the meat soaking up the rich aroma of soy-based sauce. Entrees are all the better with appetizers of bin dae duk (pancake) and man du (pot stickers). Or supplement with chap che, stir-fried noodles, or dol sot bibimbap, a sizzling stone pot of rice, beef and veggies.

Arisoo's a grill we'd be proud to introduce to our parents.

This, friends, is serious steak. Only the finest aged, corn-fed, USDA Prime beef bred in the Midwest makes it to the tables in this elegantly appointed place. Ruth's Chris' beef is never frozen, so you always get exceptionally tender and flavorful meat. Steaks are hand-cut at the restaurant and served in huge portions -- 12 to 22 ounces -- because a larger cut retains more of its natural juices during cooking. The beef is richly marbled -- those ribbons of fat mean a beautiful, buttery taste explosion. The steak literally calls to us -- broiled in an 1,800-degree oven and served on a plate heated to 500 degrees, the meat sputters and sizzles merrily, making a sound that's more Pavlovian than any bell. Whether it's the filet, rib eye, New York strip, porterhouse or massive cowboy cut, Ruth's Chris has a permanent stake in our future.

Some chefs treat the fusion concept as license to pair unnatural foods. Sushi schnitzel? Not for us, thanks. Then there are chefs like Natascha Ovando-Karadsheh, who takes classic dishes and marries them with select surprises, for tastes that are inspired but not weird. The handwritten menu changes nightly, depending on available ingredients and the chef's mood.

At Coup Des Tartes, we're impressed with such dishes as pork tenderloin, taken a little Jamaican with jerk rub, a little Southwestern with peach salsa, a little French with chèvre mashed potatoes, and all American with sautéed spinach. Lamb shank takes on a Moroccan flair with Indian spices, harissa-spiced vegetable ragout and dried fruits atop couscous. And we've never had such divine Alaskan halibut, drizzled with fresh basil oil, and stunningly served with Absolut Citron-spiked risotto, teardrop tomatoes and spinach. Freebie plates of French olives and a BYOB policy make dinner here even more special.

For such a big city, we sure don't have much in the way of ultra-luxe restaurants. Maybe we're too laid-back. (Jacket and tie? Surely you jest!) Or maybe no one's been brave enough to take on Mary Elaine's, our grandma of gourmet. This is the swankiest of swank, with rich European decor, white-glove service (even purses get their own little stools to sit on), and gorgeous views of the southern Valley. It's expensive -- appetizers for $29, entrees for $60, and desserts for $20 -- but no other restaurant can compete with its modern French cuisine. We're delighted, from a beginning of two ounces of Caspian beluga caviar through châteaubriand of buffalo with grilled Sonoma foie gras, or caramelized Maine sea scallops with arugula ravioli and white bean purée, right through desserts that leave us gasping. Yes, we do have to dress at Mary Elaine's. But we'd wear pink bunny suits if it got us a table.

The Salt Cellar, despite its funky, underground setting (careful navigating those dark stairs, particularly if you've been washing down your pre-dinner oysters, clams, shrimp or mussels at the bar), is completely serious about bringing us only the freshest, best-quality aquatic fare from around the globe. In fact, its comfy ambiance is one of the reasons we're hooked. Who needs frou-frou fittings with a multitude of daily market selections such as Canadian king salmon, Hawaiian mahi-mahi with macadamia nuts, Cajun-spiced halibut from Anchorage, stuffed mountain trout from Idaho, or our personal favorite: the three-pound, live Maine lobster? Or stuff your mouth with the Cellar's whole Dungeness crab or Alaskan king crab legs. The Captain's Choice selections add more adventurous treats such as shrimp San Remo on fresh garlic basil pasta, and teriyaki ahi on fresh orange habanero pasta. No matter the mood, we always "sea" something we like at the Salt Cellar.

It's a fantasy we keep returning to: stuffing ourselves to the gills on quality seafood, without taking out a loan on our house. At Ichi Ban, it's certainly easy to fill up, selecting from hundreds of aquatic items at this buffet-style sushi and seafood fest. But we feel a wave of relief when the bill comes: just $13.95 at lunch, and $20.95 at dinner. The reality is that even with the low tariff, Ichi Ban doesn't cut corners on its catch. Pale pink albacore tuna, bright red maguro, silky salmon, buttery hamachi, cooked shrimp, flaky kani, red snapper, scallop and eel make for sensual sushi. More substantial choices include baked salmon, snow crab, marina clam soup, scallops, baby octopus and sautéed fish. Finally -- substantial seafood that doesn't cost us a c-note.