American in Disney

True to form, in the Artist Point restaurant, Disney does it up big – from the size of the room, to the size of your plate, to the size of your food portion, to the size of your bill, which, in this instance, is justified.

And they do it beautifully.

And they do it beautifully.

Located in the jaw-dropping magnitude of the Wilderness Lodge, in the Magic Kingdom resort area, the restaurant follows the Northwest theme both in decor and menu. Half-a-dozen starters from the woods, rivers and fields offer exotics such as the sautéed elk sausage that's served with braised potatoes, onions and mushrooms ($5), or shrimp and chicken saté marinated and grilled on a rosemary skewer and served with sea grass and dipping sauce ($8.25).

Located in the jaw-dropping magnitude of the Wilderness Lodge, in the Magic Kingdom resort area, the restaurant follows the Northwest theme both in decor and menu. Half-a-dozen starters from the woods, rivers and fields offer exotics such as the sautéed elk sausage that's served with braised potatoes, onions and mushrooms ($5), or shrimp and chicken saté marinated and grilled on a rosemary skewer and served with sea grass and dipping sauce ($8.25).

The Northwest salmon sampler ($9) featured smoked pepperlachs and cured gravlachs (both are cuts of salmon) and pan-seared salmon presented with a relish side of onion, sweet peppers and capers – a generous and successful combination. However, smoky pepperlachs and pork nearly overpowered the pot-au-feu, a hearty soup combining lentils, potatoes, pork and elk sausage in a saffron broth ($4). The Oregon sampler of marinated wild berries, pickled asparagus, bleu cheese and duck confit ($7.25) delivered enough vinegar to lock even my vinegar-loving jaw, and the fowl was typically greasy. But the creamed onion soup ($3.50) was light, perfectly seasoned and garnished with chive strips and freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese.

The Northwest salmon sampler ($9) featured smoked pepperlachs and cured gravlachs (both are cuts of salmon) and pan-seared salmon presented with a relish side of onion, sweet peppers and capers – a generous and successful combination. However, smoky pepperlachs and pork nearly overpowered the pot-au-feu, a hearty soup combining lentils, potatoes, pork and elk sausage in a saffron broth ($4). The Oregon sampler of marinated wild berries, pickled asparagus, bleu cheese and duck confit ($7.25) delivered enough vinegar to lock even my vinegar-loving jaw, and the fowl was typically greasy. But the creamed onion soup ($3.50) was light, perfectly seasoned and garnished with chive strips and freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese.

Five seafood entrees ranged from a rainbow trout pan roasted with pancetta with a lentil and red pepper side ($15) to a line-caught wild king salmon from Alaska ($19.50). The latter was marinated in whiskey and oven-roasted with julienned winter squash and couscous enhanced with plump raisins and pine nuts. The huge salmon steak was perfect – flaky but moist with delicate seasoning.

Five seafood entrees ranged from a rainbow trout pan roasted with pancetta with a lentil and red pepper side ($15) to a line-caught wild king salmon from Alaska ($19.50). The latter was marinated in whiskey and oven-roasted with julienned winter squash and couscous enhanced with plump raisins and pine nuts. The huge salmon steak was perfect – flaky but moist with delicate seasoning.

From a meat list that included espresso bean barbecued chicken ($15.25); a 16-ounce porterhouse ($21) and a lamb-pheasant dish ($19.50), my companion chose a smoked prime rib ($17.50) that was generously marbled and served with red potatoes he deemed delicious. All entrees are served with a delicious tri-lettuce salad, nicely chilled and tossed with just a whisper of raspberry vinaigrette. There's also a freshly baked hazelnut bread loaf and sunflower seed rolls.

From a meat list that included espresso bean barbecued chicken ($15.25); a 16-ounce porterhouse ($21) and a lamb-pheasant dish ($19.50), my companion chose a smoked prime rib ($17.50) that was generously marbled and served with red potatoes he deemed delicious. All entrees are served with a delicious tri-lettuce salad, nicely chilled and tossed with just a whisper of raspberry vinaigrette. There's also a freshly baked hazelnut bread loaf and sunflower seed rolls.

This is a thoughtful menu, innovative and prepared with care – an amazing feat when you consider that this place can accommodate 206 people (and often does). And our service was as spectacular as the setting – although next time, we plan to take our coffee outside, by the magnificent lobby fireplace.

My friend had a theory: The walls were bugged at the Flying Fish Cafe. We couldn't figure out how else the waiters seemed to read our minds when we had dinner at the restaurant at Disney's Boardwalk. As the wait staff roamed through the dining area, stopping by this or that table to bring food or answer questions, they always seemed to wind up at our table at the precise moment when we were thinking of asking for more (and more) of the moist, rich and chewy sourdough bread or wondering, "What's in this sauce?"

It's rare to find a restaurant staff that anticipates your needs without becoming a distraction or invading your space. But Flying Fish Cafe has this one down. And the menu – new American cuisine with a seafood spin – is creatively and attentively prepared, though most of the entrees are in the $20 range. This is luxury dining that becomes affordable by virtue of the quality and value. Cooking guru Julia Child had visited two days before we were there, and she proclaimed it the best restaurant in Florida, our waiter told us.

Located along the waterfront collection of clubs, shops and restaurants, Flying Fish has a whimsical atmosphere inspired by the golden age of rollercoasters, the 1920s. There is a faux ferris wheel and a collection of fish sculptures parachuting from the ceiling. The colors throughout the dining area are watery blues and oceanic greens.

The menu changes daily to reflect what's indigenous and in season in the United States, which amounts to a constant logistics challenge for head chef John State. He consistently and successfully pulls off his synchronized fresh selections.

For appetizers, we chose the "Flying Fish sampler" ($11) and had "snapper escabeche," which was cured in a spicy vinaigrette of olives and capers. There also was a chilled "rock shrimp roll" of sushi rolled up with wasabi, scallions and mayonnaise. But our favorite was the "peeky toe crab cake." It was so packed with premium crab meat, and just enough peppers, onions and parsley to bind it, that we wished we'd ordered this one as a full appetizer ($10-$20). Meanwhile, we stayed busy with a delicious bread basket that was so alluring we couldn't stop dipping in.

The evening's entrees included pan-roasted golden tilefish ($23), a Florida fish that takes its sweetness from swimming deep and living on shrimp and lobster. Teamed with a subtle chervil créme fraèche, which had anise undertones, it was a real treat. Another entree, the red snapper ($24), is so popular that it has become one of several standard items on the menu. It was gorgeous in its presentation: The moist, flaky fillet was delicately wrapped in a crisp potato casing and served with leek fondue and cabernet sauvignon reduction.

Desserts were equally impressive. We took the waiter's advice and had "banana Napoleon" ($7), a concoction of cinnamon crème brûlee, caramel sauce and whipped cream. Also delicious was a warm crepe filled with hazelnut praline and Granny apples, topped with vanilla-bean ice cream ($7).

A tall crystal mug of Spanish coffee warmed our bones, thanks to a shot of Tia Maria. It was a perfect end to a perfect dinner.

Casting into the pool of local seafood restaurants has always yielded an uncertain catch – water, water everywhere but not a decent broiled flounder to eat. That's what made a recent trip to Fulton's Crab House – the former Empress Lily gone Huck Finn – seem all the more like a fish tale. Were it possible, our dinner should have been stuffed and mounted, a trophy from a high-priced adventure.

A Saturday morning call secured a table for 8 o' clock that night. Fashionably late, we were whisked through two checkpoints to an upper-deck booth with a sunset view.

A Saturday morning call secured a table for 8 o' clock that night. Fashionably late, we were whisked through two checkpoints to an upper-deck booth with a sunset view.

With excellent service and insights provided by our waiter, we browsed the exhaustive menu over spicy Bloody Marys ($4.95) and the house crab dip and crispy lahvosh. The horseradish thickness in the drinks prompted an order of the oyster sampler platter (half-dozen $8.95, dozen $16.95) harvested from the Pacific Northwest. Other than names – Spencer Cove, Kumomoto, Malpeque, Penn Cove, Snow Creek and Quilcene – the twist on this succulent sampling was an awakening jalapeño Tabasco ice. We took our waiter up on the suggestion of Manila clams ($8.95), a deep bowl of tender clams steamed in a soy sauce and scallion broth, enhanced by a round of fragrant thyme-onion rolls.

With excellent service and insights provided by our waiter, we browsed the exhaustive menu over spicy Bloody Marys ($4.95) and the house crab dip and crispy lahvosh. The horseradish thickness in the drinks prompted an order of the oyster sampler platter (half-dozen $8.95, dozen $16.95) harvested from the Pacific Northwest. Other than names – Spencer Cove, Kumomoto, Malpeque, Penn Cove, Snow Creek and Quilcene – the twist on this succulent sampling was an awakening jalapeño Tabasco ice. We took our waiter up on the suggestion of Manila clams ($8.95), a deep bowl of tender clams steamed in a soy sauce and scallion broth, enhanced by a round of fragrant thyme-onion rolls.

Alaskan red king crab claws ($34.95) was the winning selection from the crab and lobster offerings. The Cousteau-worthy specimens neatly yielded meaty portions for dipping in drawn butter. Though the boiled red-skin potatoes were perfect, I found myself thinking of spicier versions on the menu, like roasted garlic and pepper whipped potatoes.

Alaskan red king crab claws ($34.95) was the winning selection from the crab and lobster offerings. The Cousteau-worthy specimens neatly yielded meaty portions for dipping in drawn butter. Though the boiled red-skin potatoes were perfect, I found myself thinking of spicier versions on the menu, like roasted garlic and pepper whipped potatoes.

From the fresh fish and seasonal specials came Alaska's Copper River king salmon – charcoal-grilled, served with field greens, roasted jalepeño tomato vinaigrette, corn salsa and rice ($22.95). This work of art and nature was best enjoyed like a sophisticated salad, scooping together petals of salmon with delicate greens and the chunky piquant salsa.

From the fresh fish and seasonal specials came Alaska's Copper River king salmon – charcoal-grilled, served with field greens, roasted jalepeño tomato vinaigrette, corn salsa and rice ($22.95). This work of art and nature was best enjoyed like a sophisticated salad, scooping together petals of salmon with delicate greens and the chunky piquant salsa.

The sun was down by the time we sipped cappuccinos ($2.95), savoring the divine sour cherry pie ($4.95) and milk chocolate crème brûlée ($3.95). But there's nothing like the sight of tourists throwing money around to help you loosen up and enjoy such a costly yet memorable indulgence.

To celebrate their third birthday, House of Blues has strayed a bit from its Southern menu, introducing dishes that might be based on Delta traditions but have taken a few detours.

First, some HOB dining secrets. After listening to the "30-minute wait" speech and getting a beeper from the hostess, you should stroll around back to the Voodoo Garden. It overlooks the lake, there's live music, and – best of all – there's often an empty table. Second: The Voodoo Garden music ends at 10 p.m., when it becomes a very peaceful place to dine. The last secret? Order extra rosemary corn bread – even at $3.95 – since it's moist, crunchy and satisfying.

First, some HOB dining secrets. After listening to the "30-minute wait" speech and getting a beeper from the hostess, you should stroll around back to the Voodoo Garden. It overlooks the lake, there's live music, and – best of all – there's often an empty table. Second: The Voodoo Garden music ends at 10 p.m., when it becomes a very peaceful place to dine. The last secret? Order extra rosemary corn bread – even at $3.95 – since it's moist, crunchy and satisfying.

The staple "seafood gumbo" ($3.95 a cup) has a flavorful soup base, which takes a lot of concentration to notice, since the slightly burnt taste of blackened seasonongs masks everything. With almost none of the promised ingredients showing up (andouille sausage, shrimp, oysters and crawfish are listed, but you couldn't prove it by me), it's not the enjoyable dish it could be.

The staple "seafood gumbo" ($3.95 a cup) has a flavorful soup base, which takes a lot of concentration to notice, since the slightly burnt taste of blackened seasonongs masks everything. With almost none of the promised ingredients showing up (andouille sausage, shrimp, oysters and crawfish are listed, but you couldn't prove it by me), it's not the enjoyable dish it could be.

Options for appetizers include "Caribbean jerk chicken wings in Pickapepper sauce" ($8.95) and "seared Gulf shrimp with Blackened Voodoo Beer" ($10.25). For the latter, six decent-sized shrimp come coated in a dark, spicy sauce, the deep flavor accented by a mound of radish sprouts. It's a good precursor of the interesting combinations of textures and flavors to follow.

Options for appetizers include "Caribbean jerk chicken wings in Pickapepper sauce" ($8.95) and "seared Gulf shrimp with Blackened Voodoo Beer" ($10.25). For the latter, six decent-sized shrimp come coated in a dark, spicy sauce, the deep flavor accented by a mound of radish sprouts. It's a good precursor of the interesting combinations of textures and flavors to follow.

For the "ahi tuna salad" ($10.95), rare slices of quickly seared tuna are wound around a heap of red cabbage and topped in a drizzle of wasabi mayonnaise. The fish is sushi-grade and splendid, and while the cabbage is a bit too oversoyed, the crisp texture offsets the buttery feel of the fish.

For the "ahi tuna salad" ($10.95), rare slices of quickly seared tuna are wound around a heap of red cabbage and topped in a drizzle of wasabi mayonnaise. The fish is sushi-grade and splendid, and while the cabbage is a bit too oversoyed, the crisp texture offsets the buttery feel of the fish.

Some of the so-called "Southern specials" come from South Elsewhere. I don't think any bayou cook has ever rustled up a mess of "chicken and penne pasta with wild mushroom cream sauce and Gouda cheese" ($14.95). The "grilled rosemary chicken" ($14.95) comes nicely charcoaled and juicy, along with mashed potatoes that are richly creamy and wonderfully lumpy at the same time, and perfect, tender sautéed asparagus.

Some of the so-called "Southern specials" come from South Elsewhere. I don't think any bayou cook has ever rustled up a mess of "chicken and penne pasta with wild mushroom cream sauce and Gouda cheese" ($14.95). The "grilled rosemary chicken" ($14.95) comes nicely charcoaled and juicy, along with mashed potatoes that are richly creamy and wonderfully lumpy at the same time, and perfect, tender sautéed asparagus.

Our attentive server recommended the "white chocolate banana bread pudding" (all desserts $5.95). CrÈme anglaise and dark-chocolate drizzles accent the muffinlike pudding, but by the time we got to the car I felt several pounds heavier. Try the "sweet potato cheesecake" for something lighter.

Our attentive server recommended the "white chocolate banana bread pudding" (all desserts $5.95). CrÈme anglaise and dark-chocolate drizzles accent the muffinlike pudding, but by the time we got to the car I felt several pounds heavier. Try the "sweet potato cheesecake" for something lighter.

HOB will always be a theme restaurant, but this theme has the food to back it up.

Never say what a restaurant is not. Writing that one restaurant would be better if it were more like another is unfair and pointless. So I won't say that the Market Street Café in Celebration is not Dexter's or Tu Tu Tango or even the College Park Diner because -- of course -- it is none of those things.

I can say that the Market Street Café is not Max's Café. That's because Max's is gone and Market Street has taken its place. The new cafe is being run by Restaurant Partners Inc., which operates four Pebbles restaurants around Orlando. They've done a good job of assimilating the old-days' Celebration atmosphere. If halogen lights and computers had been around in the '50s, Market Street would have fit right in with its retro-modern diner design. Big booths, wide windows and earth tones prevail, making the place something of an upscale, new-urban greasy spoon.

I can say that the Market Street Café is not Max's Café. That's because Max's is gone and Market Street has taken its place. The new cafe is being run by Restaurant Partners Inc., which operates four Pebbles restaurants around Orlando. They've done a good job of assimilating the old-days' Celebration atmosphere. If halogen lights and computers had been around in the '50s, Market Street would have fit right in with its retro-modern diner design. Big booths, wide windows and earth tones prevail, making the place something of an upscale, new-urban greasy spoon.

The eatery is the antithesis of existentialism. One doesn't wear black, drink bitter espresso and read Kierkegaard at Market Street. You order a shake and a burger -- and are happy if you get the special round booth by the front door so you can watch resident Celebrants buzz by on rented electric scooters. I heard one of the waitresses, who was about half my age, say "groovy." Another server must have done well in Celebration Diner school, as she made a point of calling me "hon."

The eatery is the antithesis of existentialism. One doesn't wear black, drink bitter espresso and read Kierkegaard at Market Street. You order a shake and a burger -- and are happy if you get the special round booth by the front door so you can watch resident Celebrants buzz by on rented electric scooters. I heard one of the waitresses, who was about half my age, say "groovy." Another server must have done well in Celebration Diner school, as she made a point of calling me "hon."

I'm not complaining, mind you. The Market Street Café is pleasant, just not very exciting. Regardless of whatever preconceptions you may have walking in, the food is prepared well and nothing seems processed. Market Street serves turkey with cornbread stuffing and meatloaf with mashed potatoes. They're so traditional that you'll be tempted to see if mom is in the kitchen.

I'm not complaining, mind you. The Market Street Café is pleasant, just not very exciting. Regardless of whatever preconceptions you may have walking in, the food is prepared well and nothing seems processed. Market Street serves turkey with cornbread stuffing and meatloaf with mashed potatoes. They're so traditional that you'll be tempted to see if mom is in the kitchen.

Salads and "starters" are enormous. "Portobello" salad ($5.95 small, $9.95 large) is a dinner plate piled high with romaine, diced tomato, slivers of Gouda, corn and big slices of mushroom with a sun-dried tomato vinaigrette. Order the small. A cheese quesadilla ($5.95) is as big as your head, and if you order fried-chicken tenders (simple white meat rolled in cornflake breading, $6.95) as an appetizer, don't bother with an entrée.

Salads and "starters" are enormous. "Portobello" salad ($5.95 small, $9.95 large) is a dinner plate piled high with romaine, diced tomato, slivers of Gouda, corn and big slices of mushroom with a sun-dried tomato vinaigrette. Order the small. A cheese quesadilla ($5.95) is as big as your head, and if you order fried-chicken tenders (simple white meat rolled in cornflake breading, $6.95) as an appetizer, don't bother with an entrée.

I had the smoked chicken pasta ($11.95). The definition of "pasta" is spaghetti, but it was firm to the tooth and dressed in a pleasant wine and garlic sauce -- lots of garlic. The meatloaf ($10.95) was covered in brown mushroom gravy almost as dark as cocoa, with excellent homemade potatoes.

I had the smoked chicken pasta ($11.95). The definition of "pasta" is spaghetti, but it was firm to the tooth and dressed in a pleasant wine and garlic sauce -- lots of garlic. The meatloaf ($10.95) was covered in brown mushroom gravy almost as dark as cocoa, with excellent homemade potatoes.

If you're looking for an undemanding meal in a "smallville," you might consider the drive.

In theory, it's an interesting concept ' offer diners the very best street food the Americas have to offer, and do so in a place where most of your patrons are from other countries. That's the thought behind Pleasure Island's boisterous Paradiso 37, the latest initiative by E-Brands, the restaurant conglomerate that brought us Timpano Chophouse, the Samba Room and Salsa Taqueria. The '37â?� in the restaurant's appellation is a reference to the 37 countries in the Americas, though that figure may or may not be entirely accurate. And if you're expecting to find at least one dish from each of the 37 nations, better lower your expectations. It was difficult to hide my disappointment when my beloved Canadian poutine was nowhere to be found on the menu. If French fries lathered in gravy and cheese curds is too exotic for Downtown Disney, then any hopes of finding Trinidadian bake-and-shark, Puerto Rican bacalaítos or Jamaican beef patties in coco bread are all but dead.

Still, the restaurant's menu did pose some interesting options, like Central American 'crazy cornâ?� ($7.99). The quartered cobs of sweetness were made muy loco with melted cheese, spicy yellow pepper sauce and zesty lime. I surprised myself by polishing off the whole dish. Also decent (though not spicy as advertised) were the chorizo-and-beef skewers ($14.99), a starter big enough for a meal and nicely flavored with cherry tomatoes, caramelized mushrooms and onions, served with doughy rolls of chimichurri pita bread.

From the list of mains, I bypassed the burgers from North America and settled on the Colombian-style whole crispy hen ($17.99), which was about the size of my fist. The skin was crisp, to be sure, but the meat, marinated with onions, garlic and lemon, wasn't as flavorful as I'd hoped. The accompanying arepa and roasted vegetables were fine. From the Mexican section, be sure to skip the trio of soggy enchiladas ($13.99) stuffed with beef and weighted down by a guajillo sauce that tasted like it came out of a can. The only redeeming item on this platter was the cilantro rice. You're better off downing a pint of the world's coldest beer ' a temperature gauge reading '30.1°F� dangled above the beer kept below, and I was assured it would get down to a frigid 29 degrees. Those with a predilection for tequila will be impressed by the towering display of tequila bottles behind the bar; needless to say, margaritas are a specialty here.

On the sweet side, the chocolate stack ($7.99) felt like it weighed five pounds, and cutting into it required some modicum of effort. This is one dense, thick wedge of chocolate overload, not to mention that it sits on a bed of warm caramel sauce and is crowned with vanilla ice cream and rainbow-sprinkled whipped cream. A trio of tres leches ($5.99) towers was more thick and spongy than milky, which is the way I like it. The meringue topping was a nice touch, though, as was the serving of finely diced seasonal fruit.

Sadly, Paradiso 37 is but one of many restaurants on Disney property that are decent enough to visit once, but not offering a compelling reason to return.

Have you been to the town of Celebration? It's so ... clean. And planned. And it has those "Neighborhood Electric Vehicles" (with reserved parking spots that you al-ways pull into before seeing the "NEV Parking" sign).

The Celebration planning extends to food as well. If anyone can afford fabulous chefs, Disney can; yet the cuisine at the immaculate Plantation Room is good but unimpressive.

The Celebration planning extends to food as well. If anyone can afford fabulous chefs, Disney can; yet the cuisine at the immaculate Plantation Room is good but unimpressive.

Although Café D'Antonio, Columbia and the Market Street Café -- the more visible dining spots along the main drag -- were packed, Plantation Room, ensconced in the Celebration Hotel, was eerily quiet on both midweek evenings I visited. It's more of a special-occasion kind of place than somewhere to go on impulse. The room itself is gorgeous, alive with the subdued sparkle of crystal glasses and good china. And the background music of 1930s' jazz is fun. But The Plantation Room misses the goal of a well-manicured dining experience: a spectacular dinner.

Although Café D'Antonio, Columbia and the Market Street Café -- the more visible dining spots along the main drag -- were packed, Plantation Room, ensconced in the Celebration Hotel, was eerily quiet on both midweek evenings I visited. It's more of a special-occasion kind of place than somewhere to go on impulse. The room itself is gorgeous, alive with the subdued sparkle of crystal glasses and good china. And the background music of 1930s' jazz is fun. But The Plantation Room misses the goal of a well-manicured dining experience: a spectacular dinner.

Head Chef Jean-Louis calls his creations "New Florida Cuisine." Well, they're new and in Florida, but nothing cried out "Sunshine State" except for the sweet and spicy fruit salsa, full of mango and pineapple, which flavored the crab-cake appetizer. And covering firm escargot with an overpowering cream sauce did nothing for the flavor or Floridaness of the wee mollusks (both $8).

Head Chef Jean-Louis calls his creations "New Florida Cuisine." Well, they're new and in Florida, but nothing cried out "Sunshine State" except for the sweet and spicy fruit salsa, full of mango and pineapple, which flavored the crab-cake appetizer. And covering firm escargot with an overpowering cream sauce did nothing for the flavor or Floridaness of the wee mollusks (both $8).

The filet mignon ($28) was one big honkin' piece of meat, a good 4-inches thick; unfortunately, it was served in a much-too-salty mushroom sauce. Salt also was the villain with the breast of duck ($19) that was tender and darkly tasty, but a little too far removed from the oven to be as crispy as it should have been. The accompanying and impressive tower of crisp sweet-potato slices filled with mashed sweet potatoes was delicious, though.

The filet mignon ($28) was one big honkin' piece of meat, a good 4-inches thick; unfortunately, it was served in a much-too-salty mushroom sauce. Salt also was the villain with the breast of duck ($19) that was tender and darkly tasty, but a little too far removed from the oven to be as crispy as it should have been. The accompanying and impressive tower of crisp sweet-potato slices filled with mashed sweet potatoes was delicious, though.

Sweet potatoes (if it's a plantation, this must be the crop) showed up flavoring grits around the grouper ($22), a nice combination. In fact the fish was the best taste of the evening, lovingly uncomplicated and cooked to firm and juicy perfection, served with baby bok choy. So why was the whole dish covered with threads of deep-fried scallions? The selection prompted my companion to ask, "What am I eating here, grass?"

Sweet potatoes (if it's a plantation, this must be the crop) showed up flavoring grits around the grouper ($22), a nice combination. In fact the fish was the best taste of the evening, lovingly uncomplicated and cooked to firm and juicy perfection, served with baby bok choy. So why was the whole dish covered with threads of deep-fried scallions? The selection prompted my companion to ask, "What am I eating here, grass?"

Even though we ordered both the cherries jubilee and bananas foster, neither was flambéed at the table -- and that might tell the whole tale of the Plantation Room. The bits are all there, but nothing really lights a fire.

We didn't review this location but you can check out the review of Rainforest Cafe at Downtown Disney Marketplace.

There's something unsettling about eating a bowl of pasta with a squawking parrot perched overhead. Or getting fanned by the flapping ears of a life-sized elephant as another round of Rainforest Rickys arrives from the Magic Mushroom organic juice-and-smoothie bar.

Rainforest Cafe, an addition to the Downtown Disney Marketplace, is a slickly packaged, 550-seat restaurant loosely patterned after a lush jungle, with faux wildlife and vegetation, special effects and colossal fish tanks.

Rainforest Cafe, an addition to the Downtown Disney Marketplace, is a slickly packaged, 550-seat restaurant loosely patterned after a lush jungle, with faux wildlife and vegetation, special effects and colossal fish tanks.

Outside, there's a 65-foot spewing volcano, which generated some enthusiasm from afar, until I got closer and saw the snaking Disney-style line. At 8 p.m. on a weeknight, it took 20 minutes to get our "passports," followed by an hour's wait for our table. We headed for the retail area, which sells $30 T-shirts and semi-educational jungle knickknacks. In our estimation, hunkering down on a stool fashioned into a gazelle's hindquarters at the aforementioned Magic Mushroom was a more attractive way to bide our time.

Outside, there's a 65-foot spewing volcano, which generated some enthusiasm from afar, until I got closer and saw the snaking Disney-style line. At 8 p.m. on a weeknight, it took 20 minutes to get our "passports," followed by an hour's wait for our table. We headed for the retail area, which sells $30 T-shirts and semi-educational jungle knickknacks. In our estimation, hunkering down on a stool fashioned into a gazelle's hindquarters at the aforementioned Magic Mushroom was a more attractive way to bide our time.

The menu offers casual, familiar items with clever names. Best of our entrees was the seafood Galapagos ($14.95), which blended fresh sautéed shrimp and fish pieces with vegetables and pesto sauce over linguine. I also liked the rasta pasta ($11.95) -- grilled chicken, pesto, broccoli, red peppers and herbs in a garlic cream sauce. Less appealing was the marinade in the Siam stir fry ($12.95), chicken sautéed with vegetables, served on rice with wontons and sesame seeds.

The menu offers casual, familiar items with clever names. Best of our entrees was the seafood Galapagos ($14.95), which blended fresh sautéed shrimp and fish pieces with vegetables and pesto sauce over linguine. I also liked the rasta pasta ($11.95) -- grilled chicken, pesto, broccoli, red peppers and herbs in a garlic cream sauce. Less appealing was the marinade in the Siam stir fry ($12.95), chicken sautéed with vegetables, served on rice with wontons and sesame seeds.

The desserts we sampled ($4.95) were delicious: "gorillas in the mist," a chocolate-topped banana cheesecake, and "chocolate diablo," rich cake with gooey layers of pudding.

The desserts we sampled ($4.95) were delicious: "gorillas in the mist," a chocolate-topped banana cheesecake, and "chocolate diablo," rich cake with gooey layers of pudding.

There's a healthy selection of appetizers, burgers, sandwiches, salads and comfort foods like meat loaf and fried chicken. When asked, the server brightly informed me that I could take home a menu -- for $15. Service was adequate, but we had to hunt our server down for the check. (Attempts to call her from across the room were rendered futile by the loudly trumpeting elephant.)

There's a healthy selection of appetizers, burgers, sandwiches, salads and comfort foods like meat loaf and fried chicken. When asked, the server brightly informed me that I could take home a menu -- for $15. Service was adequate, but we had to hunt our server down for the check. (Attempts to call her from across the room were rendered futile by the loudly trumpeting elephant.)

As with other themed restaurants I've tried, the heavily merchandised atmosphere and slightly above-average menu at Rainforest Cafe outweigh the novelty of the overall dining experience.

The Wolfgang Puck Cafe could be appealing or annoying, depending on how you feel about its location in Downtown Disney West Side.

The tourist zone seems to creep inside the dining area, clashing with the original concept of upscale-casual California cuisine. Not surprisingly, the decor is wild, colorful and playful. Corporate touches are found even on the menu, where a simple motto ("Live, Love, Eat") is flanked by a trademark symbol.

The tourist zone seems to creep inside the dining area, clashing with the original concept of upscale-casual California cuisine. Not surprisingly, the decor is wild, colorful and playful. Corporate touches are found even on the menu, where a simple motto ("Live, Love, Eat") is flanked by a trademark symbol.

From the moment we entered, we were primed by the tantalizing aromas of fire-roasted pizzas, pastas, burgers and grilled fare. We discovered some delicious menu items, but the barbecue duck quesadilla ($8.95) was a letdown for starters.

From the moment we entered, we were primed by the tantalizing aromas of fire-roasted pizzas, pastas, burgers and grilled fare. We discovered some delicious menu items, but the barbecue duck quesadilla ($8.95) was a letdown for starters.

Each guest took a slice, and there were polite pronouncements of "Mm, good," but no strong opinions. It was filled with more cheese than duck, and it was topped with chili sauce, sour cream and pico de gallo.

Each guest took a slice, and there were polite pronouncements of "Mm, good," but no strong opinions. It was filled with more cheese than duck, and it was topped with chili sauce, sour cream and pico de gallo.

"Puck's Pucks" were by far our favorite, although they were horrendously overpriced. For $11.95, we received two crab cakes the size of powder puffs.

"Puck's Pucks" were by far our favorite, although they were horrendously overpriced. For $11.95, we received two crab cakes the size of powder puffs.

The waitress described them as "90 percent bluefin crab lump meat," which made several of us wonder when crabs started growing fins. But the meat was fresh and sweet, seasoned with mustard caper sauce, bits of carrots and corn and a bittersweet baby arugula salad on the side.

The waitress described them as "90 percent bluefin crab lump meat," which made several of us wonder when crabs started growing fins. But the meat was fresh and sweet, seasoned with mustard caper sauce, bits of carrots and corn and a bittersweet baby arugula salad on the side.

Everyone at our table gave a rowdy thumbs-down to the "signature pizza" ($14.95), which was topped with chilled salmon, red onion and dill sauce. The comments ranged from "Ugh" to "God-awful." The salmon was obviously premium. Yet it was too clammy for our pizza sensibilities.

Everyone at our table gave a rowdy thumbs-down to the "signature pizza" ($14.95), which was topped with chilled salmon, red onion and dill sauce. The comments ranged from "Ugh" to "God-awful." The salmon was obviously premium. Yet it was too clammy for our pizza sensibilities.

Spinach papardelle ($10.95) was a pleasing blend of textures and flavors. Wide strips of egg and spinach pasta were crimped on the edges, and tossed with sun-dried tomatoes, Chenel goat cheese, basil and double-blanched garlic cloves.

Spinach papardelle ($10.95) was a pleasing blend of textures and flavors. Wide strips of egg and spinach pasta were crimped on the edges, and tossed with sun-dried tomatoes, Chenel goat cheese, basil and double-blanched garlic cloves.

Service was a bit overzealous. We received three updates in 10 minutes on the status of an appetizer. One guest was still working on his Diet Coke when a waitress swooped in for a re-fill, adding iced tea.

Service was a bit overzealous. We received three updates in 10 minutes on the status of an appetizer. One guest was still working on his Diet Coke when a waitress swooped in for a re-fill, adding iced tea.

Another friend complained of dizziness at the end of the meal, only half-jokingly. We attributed it to the busy decor and that general lack of bearing that sometimes sneaks up on you in Disney country.