Locations in East

When looking for more than "a good loaf," you'll definitely find it at Au Bon Pain (pronounced ah-bahn-pahn). The high-end bakery-cafe chain with an outpost on every other corner in Manhattan has established its first local site in tourist territory in the Club Hotel at DoubleTree.

The polished, Art Deco-styled bakery is stocked with its fresh-baked loaves including the famous tomato-basil variety, as well as consistently delicious roast-beef and brie sandwiches, soups in bread bowls, croissants stuffed with chocolate and raspberries, and a killer Boston clam chowder. Vegetarian, low-fat and low-sodium versions are available, too.

The polished, Art Deco-styled bakery is stocked with its fresh-baked loaves including the famous tomato-basil variety, as well as consistently delicious roast-beef and brie sandwiches, soups in bread bowls, croissants stuffed with chocolate and raspberries, and a killer Boston clam chowder. Vegetarian, low-fat and low-sodium versions are available, too.

Prices are high – 99 cents for a focaccia bagel, for instance. But there are plush sofas, laptop ports, televisions and plenty of reading material. Other sites in central locations are a strong possibility.

Brunch Saturday noon-3pm, Soul Food Sunday noon-6pm

Upon gazing at Brianto's stark white walls, ornamented with memorabilia and photographs of every Philadelphia Phillies baseball player that ever donned a red-pinstriped uniform, I asked the good-natured lad behind the counter a question that no patron had ever dared to ask, let alone in deadpan fashion: 'Why no photos of Joe Carter?â?�

Record screech.

In the moments that ensued, his bulging gaze met my squinting glare for what seemed like minutes, but when the hoagie virtuoso's eyes eventually regained focus, we were all able to (thankfully) laugh the moment off. 'You should've said that after you got your food,â?� he joked ' at least I think he was joking. Carter's home run off Phillies closer Mitch Williams to win the '93 World Series for the Blue Jays isn't exactly a high point in the city's sports history. So in a place where even the logo is a facsimile of their beloved Phillies', I was happy to have all my teeth after uttering the cheeky quip: teeth I needed in order to chomp down on their huge hoagies and cheesesteaks.

They take their cheesesteaks seriously here ' I'm talking Amoroso's hearth-baked rolls and sliced rib-eye steak, flown straight in from the City of Brotherly Love. And they don't skimp on the chopped meat in the cheesesteak supreme ($5.99 for 6-inch; $8.99 for 12-inch; $12.99 for 18-inch), a beefy sub with the requisite onions, green peppers and mushrooms oozing with sharp provolone and Cheez Whiz. Be sure to Whiz it up, as the cheesesteak borders on bland without it, likely due to the meat not being seasoned ' or not strongly enough.

For the same price, you can opt to make the very same cheesesteak a 'cheesesteak hoagie,â?� which means adding lettuce, tomato, raw onions and a splash of oil, vinegar and mayo. The hoagie comes without green peppers or mushrooms, but I was surprised at how much better it was than the cheesesteak supreme. Everyone at the table agreed that this was the best sandwich of the lot, and we picked the 18-inch behemoth clean. Also good was the Liberty Bell ($5.99, 6-inch; $8.99, 12-inch; $12.99, 18-inch), a cold hoagie stuffed to the hilt with ham, turkey and roast beef, and plenty of sweet and hot peppers to pack a punch. The hot meatball hoagie ($4.49, 6-inch; $7.49, 12-inch; $11.49, 18-inch) was endorsed by one of my Italian dining companions ' not so much for the sub itself, but for the well-seasoned meatballs. You'll also find other Keystone State faves such as crackling Herr's potato chips (59 cents, small; 99 cents, medium; $1.59, large), refreshingly crisp Hank's birch beer ($1.99) and sugary Tastykakes ($1.29). Junk food connoisseurs may disagree, but to me, the Tastykakes tasted just like Hostess cupcakes/Ding Dongs/Ho Hos.

Brianto's may not satisfy pangs for the legendary cheesesteaks and hoagies cooked up at Pat's or Geno's in Philadelphia, but the guys here make every effort to bring a little Philly flavor to Central Florida. If they focused a bit of that effort in seasoning the beef, transplanted Philadelphians might flock to Avalon Park for some of their griddled gourmandizing.

Then, like Joe Carter off a Mitch Williams fastball, they'll be sure to hit it out the park.

Mildred Perez heard the lament often: There just weren't enough Puerto Rican restaurants in Orlando. Finally the island's descendant decided to take her friends' advice and do something about it. Not long ago Perez debuted Brisas del Caribe on Curry Ford Road, where she has enjoyed a steady flow of traffic ever since.

Her homespun menu shares similarities with Cuban fare in the roast pork, chicken and fried-plantain staples. The difference between the two becomes clear in the flavorings, such as the extra garlic and cilantro that are rubbed into meats.

Her homespun menu shares similarities with Cuban fare in the roast pork, chicken and fried-plantain staples. The difference between the two becomes clear in the flavorings, such as the extra garlic and cilantro that are rubbed into meats.

And as for soups, rather than a traditional black bean, Perez favors richer stews fortified with plump, silky red-kidney beans.

And as for soups, rather than a traditional black bean, Perez favors richer stews fortified with plump, silky red-kidney beans.

"Puerto Rican is more European in its influence. We don't use so many hot spices, but we do use a lot of seasonings: garlic, olive oil, oregano and vinegar," explains Perez. "The island is so small that we also use a lot of seafood – it's one of our specialties."

"Puerto Rican is more European in its influence. We don't use so many hot spices, but we do use a lot of seasonings: garlic, olive oil, oregano and vinegar," explains Perez. "The island is so small that we also use a lot of seafood – it's one of our specialties."

Because Puerto Rican dinners are usually served in heaping portions, it's not necessary to start with appetizers at Brisas del Caribe. Many of them are included with entrees anyway. But we liked "yucca al mojo," a boiled, starchy vegetable that's fibrous like squash. All of the yucca's sweetness was brought out by a sticky garlic glaze, and it gained an entirely new character when dipped in a snappy red "mojo" sauce. It was a steal at $1.75.

Because Puerto Rican dinners are usually served in heaping portions, it's not necessary to start with appetizers at Brisas del Caribe. Many of them are included with entrees anyway. But we liked "yucca al mojo," a boiled, starchy vegetable that's fibrous like squash. All of the yucca's sweetness was brought out by a sticky garlic glaze, and it gained an entirely new character when dipped in a snappy red "mojo" sauce. It was a steal at $1.75.

Among entrees, my guest loved the bold freshness of pechuga al ajillo ($9.99), a boneless chicken breast that was sizzled on a grill, then smothered in a deeply flavored garlic sauce. The dish was served with red beans and rice, and fried green plantains that were golden on the edges, yet still moist and flavorful within.

Among entrees, my guest loved the bold freshness of pechuga al ajillo ($9.99), a boneless chicken breast that was sizzled on a grill, then smothered in a deeply flavored garlic sauce. The dish was served with red beans and rice, and fried green plantains that were golden on the edges, yet still moist and flavorful within.

Another fine choice was tripleta de mariscos ($15.99), a trio of conch, octopus and shrimp sautéed with a clean-tasting, vinegary sauce. The seafood creation had a delicate lightness that nicely contrasted against the heaviness of the fried plantains that were served on the side.

Another fine choice was tripleta de mariscos ($15.99), a trio of conch, octopus and shrimp sautéed with a clean-tasting, vinegary sauce. The seafood creation had a delicate lightness that nicely contrasted against the heaviness of the fried plantains that were served on the side.

As for dessert, we loved the luscious tres leches (three milk) cake ($1.75), a plain, blondish concoction served in a cup and masked by meringue. We prodded into it with a spoon, and three kinds of sweet milk spread luxuriantly over the cake, soaking into every crevice.

As for dessert, we loved the luscious tres leches (three milk) cake ($1.75), a plain, blondish concoction served in a cup and masked by meringue. We prodded into it with a spoon, and three kinds of sweet milk spread luxuriantly over the cake, soaking into every crevice.

Though Brisas del Caribe is too rambling and brightly lit to afford a sense of intimacy, after hours Thursday through Sunday the restaurant morphs nicely into a salsa/merengue club.

Though Brisas del Caribe is too rambling and brightly lit to afford a sense of intimacy, after hours Thursday through Sunday the restaurant morphs nicely into a salsa/merengue club.

Waiters take great pains to welcome newcomers, and the Perez's food is as warm and inviting as a home-cooked meal. Although dishes such as roast chicken and pork are not likely to win awards for innovation, count on leaving happy and stuffed.

 

UCF-area café-deli caters to a diverse clientele, many of whom come for the all-halal menu and cut-rate prices. Don’t pass up the amazing hummus. Spit-fired shawarmas and gyros keep the college set content, and meaty platters offer more bang for your buck. End with Turkish coffee and baklava fragrant with orange-blossom water. Closed Sundays. 

Teaser: UCF-area café-deli caters to a diverse clientele, many of whom come for the all-halal menu and cut-rate prices. Don't pass up the amazing hummus, though fat kibbeh make worthy starters too. Spit-fired shawarmas and gyros keep the college set content, and meaty platters offer more bang for your buck. End with Turkish coffee and baklava fragrant with orange-blossom water. Closed Sundays.

A group of creative businesses sited together in the historic Fort Pitt building.

We didn't review this location but you can check out the review of the Chipotle in Winter Park.

When we first started business 10 years ago at Church Street," says Oscar Lagos, owner of Choo Choo Churros, "we had a small cart that we sold fried pastries from – churros. And since there was the train there, my wife named it Choo Choo Churros."

From that small cart the Lagos moved to a little coffeeshop on Bumby Avenue, and then four years ago to Lake Underhill, always keeping the name. "Argentinean people and American people, they both ask, what does this name mean?" Lagos says. Well, to anyone who asks, in the universal language of food it translates into "good."

From that small cart the Lagos moved to a little coffeeshop on Bumby Avenue, and then four years ago to Lake Underhill, always keeping the name. "Argentinean people and American people, they both ask, what does this name mean?" Lagos says. Well, to anyone who asks, in the universal language of food it translates into "good."

Choo Choo has an affinity for small spaces, and there are barely nine tables in the room, with three more outside on a patio. Renovation is going on, but nothing will change the fact that Lake Underhill Road and the East-West Expressway are right outside. That seems to be the only negative Ã? unless you're a vegetarian.

Choo Choo has an affinity for small spaces, and there are barely nine tables in the room, with three more outside on a patio. Renovation is going on, but nothing will change the fact that Lake Underhill Road and the East-West Expressway are right outside. That seems to be the only negative Ã? unless you're a vegetarian.

Much of the food of Argentina and Brazil can be summed up in four letters – meat. Lots of meat, delicious big slabs of it, served in styles and from parts of beasts that some people, even carnivores, would rather not think about. So unless you know Spanish or aren't afraid to ask, you could order "morcilla" and end up with blood sausage, or be served a big order of lemon- grilled sweet breads because "molleja" is such a lovely word.

Much of the food of Argentina and Brazil can be summed up in four letters – meat. Lots of meat, delicious big slabs of it, served in styles and from parts of beasts that some people, even carnivores, would rather not think about. So unless you know Spanish or aren't afraid to ask, you could order "morcilla" and end up with blood sausage, or be served a big order of lemon- grilled sweet breads because "molleja" is such a lovely word.

What you might want to start with is "churrasco" ($12.95), a word that usually refers to an open-flame style of cooking rather than a cut of meat, but which in this case is a two-inch-thick skirt steak that is tender, juicy and unadorned. Here is a chef who doesn't have to season, flavor, dress up or disguise a piece of meat, but knows how to cook for the best effect. The mixed grill, or "parrillada" ($15.95 to $32.95, depending on the number of people) is a popular dish that features a little sample of everything on a sizzling platter.

What you might want to start with is "churrasco" ($12.95), a word that usually refers to an open-flame style of cooking rather than a cut of meat, but which in this case is a two-inch-thick skirt steak that is tender, juicy and unadorned. Here is a chef who doesn't have to season, flavor, dress up or disguise a piece of meat, but knows how to cook for the best effect. The mixed grill, or "parrillada" ($15.95 to $32.95, depending on the number of people) is a popular dish that features a little sample of everything on a sizzling platter.

If you need a break from beef, the sweet corn or ham-and-cheese empanadas – small and dense deep-fried turnovers ($1.50) – are great. There are a couple of chicken dishes "milanesa" (breaded) and a wonderful "Sierra fish" cross-cut steak (usually white fish, but on this occasion, salmon) that was firm but still juicy in a slightly spicy lemon and wine sauce.

If you need a break from beef, the sweet corn or ham-and-cheese empanadas – small and dense deep-fried turnovers ($1.50) – are great. There are a couple of chicken dishes "milanesa" (breaded) and a wonderful "Sierra fish" cross-cut steak (usually white fish, but on this occasion, salmon) that was firm but still juicy in a slightly spicy lemon and wine sauce.

Entrees come with a simple salad, good bread and the sounds of vintage tangos in the background, including some recordings that customers bring in to share from their own collections. (Mention Astor Piazzolla, and you're golden.) The owners are charmingly friendly. Mix in their well-prepared meals and cozy atmosphere and you have a winning combination, regardless of language.

The smell of bacon wafts out the front door and hits your nose if you’re within a 100-foot radius of Chubby’s Family Restaurant in east Orlando. It’s the kind of place you don’t mind eating alone in; there’s always a friend willing to sit down across the booth from you and take your order. Almost everyone is greeted by name as they walk through the door, along with a compliment about their current haircut or shirt color. It’s a comfortable place, and the food exponentially accentuates that comfort.

Breakfast is the main meal, I find out, as my “Sherry’s skillet” ($6.50) is slid in front of me. Crispy potatoes and sautéed onions line the bottom of the bowl, followed by savory sausage, two eggs, cheddar cheese and white sausage gravy. Beside it is a biscuit so buttery and soft that jam is rendered unnecessary. I load a heaping pile of breakfast onto my fork and I’m in heaven. When I take a sip of coffee and my mouth is set aflame, I realize that my cup has been refilled under the radar in the 3.5 seconds I was digging in my purse for a pen. That’s the way Chubby’s does things: unceremoniously and swiftly. Like a good doo-wop group, each part harmonizes to create a proficient unity of service, food and ambience.

As I chew blissfully, the man with the full-white beard and the Harley-Davidson shirt in the booth behind me orders a mushroom cheeseburger ($5.95) at 10:30 a.m. I smile inwardly as he skips the french fries. The ones I had yesterday were in dire need of salt, making them useless starch vehicles. But the Chubby’s Burger ($5.95), a 6-ounce beef patty piled with white American cheese and more than a few slices of smoky ham, garnered a jealous gaze from the kimono-clad Betty Boop on the wall opposite me.

The menu at Chubby’s Family Restaurant is filled with sandwiches, salads and a whole host of side dishes, from fried okra to Spam. The pancake special is possibly the best deal in town; for $5 you get two enormous, fluffy pancakes, two eggs any style, and either bacon or sausage.

As long as you pass on the fries, you’ll be satisfied. Glancing up at the print of Lucy and Ethel’s jam-packed faces at the chocolate factory will be like looking in a mirror, but at least you’ll be smiling.

If T.S. Eliot had been around to take in the concrete scrap heap of East Colonial Drive and its brutal environs, he might have been prompted to pen a variant of 'The Waste Landâ?�: June is the cruelest month, breeding bahia out of the dead land; what are the roots that clutch Highway 50? What branches grow out of this stony rubbish?

The strip, particularly at the 417 junction, is pretty much devoid of any life, and yet there stands a café in contrarian glory, a simple structure carrying on a culinary tradition that has seen two others like it move or pass on. And the Courtesy Collision gives no shelter, the cricket no relief; and the dry stone no sound of water. Come in under the shadow of the transmission tower and I will show you something different �

Its name, Delightful Island Café, is fittingly defiant. Its interior is awash in yellow ' a beaming room overseen by an equally beaming Carron Bartley, as pleasant a proprietress as you'll meet, and her industrious son. The kitchen is manned by chef Garth, a former resort chef who now plies his craft in the kitchen once commanded by Millie Parker (of Mama Millie's Jamaican Café). 

After starting with a beef patty ($1.75), served quartered and toothpicked for ease of eating, we knew our dinner would ultimately give us gratification. Sure, the patties weren't made in-house, but still, we knew. Cooyah wraps ($2.50) amounted to stuffed soft tacos, but the luxuriant, turmeric-infused chicken curry ladled inside had us swooning. Thanks to a liberal pour of Scotch bonnet sauce into the tacos, beads of sweat materialized on my dining partner's depilated dome. Scotch bonnets, scotty bons, habañeros ' anyway you call 'em or cut 'em, these peppers are infernal. Knowingly eating one, at best, allows you to gird the proverbial loins. Unwittingly biting into one, as I did when enjoying the snapper escoveitch ($12), issues a delayed, not an immediate, gustatory siren. When I found myself suddenly gasping for relief in mid-sentence, my sweaty-headed comrade couldn't help but chuckle. 

A side of rice and peas proved palliative, and we even half-joked that a handful of rice could sop up the perspiration streaming down the napes of our necks. The snapper, it should be noted, was exquisitely fried, and the vinegar-based dressing didn't overpower the flavor of the fish. Again, beware camouflaged slices of Scotch bonnets amid the julienned carrots. The jerk chicken ($7) could've benefited from Mama Millie's savvy ' the fact that it required a dip into a cold (albeit amazing) jerk sauce to get the full flavor made the dish a bit unwieldy. The chicken itself was decent, but the dish as a whole didn't win me over. But fatty, lush and pliant goat meat was, in a word, delightful, especially when wrapped in a soft Jamaican-style roti ($8).

An on-site bakery is planned in the coming months, which should help the fledgling café build its customer base and further elevate its offerings. Businesses in the area help sustain it, as does Mama Millie (a close friend of Bartley's) who lends encouragement, guidance and love. So while the Delightful Island Café may sit in the heart of an urban wasteland, its kitchen aroused our palates and we responded, gaily to the hand expert with knives and spices.