We'll admit it: We're partial to this place because it's one of the few places--OK, the only place--in town where we feel, well, a little special. Not that we are or anything (even our own mama tells us we're not daily), but Kai-Chi Kao, known to regulars as "George," has a way of making us feel like Dean Martin at Musso & Frank's; he's there to welcome friend and stranger alike with a hearty how-do, and the waitstaff never forgets a name, face or favorite drink (ours is sake, more please). Kai-Chi, whose poppa Buck founded the joint in 1974, is hip to everything that makes an eatery divine: amazing food (do not miss the general shrimp, as crispy as it is sweet, or the dry-stirred beef, which we swear is a dessert), warm atmosphere (kitschy, but whimsically so) and rock-crit-cool music (Kai-Chi has the best CD collection this side of, well, us). And this is how we know Royal China deserves a Best Of: Every time we take people there, they always return without us--which we don't take personally, at all.

Citizen's glazed duck is nothing short of stunning, which normally is hard to do with a duck unless you dress it up in a sequined gown, fishnets, and stilettos, and watch it doze off on one foot. Instead of garters, Citizen uses a dazzling soy plum demi-glace over slices of moist duck breast tucked near a set of duck landing gear. The sauce's gentle sweetness meshed seamlessly with the meat. It's enough to make you dine duck-like by tossing your tush in the air and diving for the main course.

We've been frequenting this place for a decade, and save for the turnover in waitstaff nothing changes; it's still owned by Dieter Paul, an elegant man running a swellegant Italian bistro, where the wine's as fine as the pastas you can mix and match with the sauces of your choosing (we prefer pesto, and pronto). The pizzas are divine--as thin as Swiss biscuits, and just as melty in your mouthy--and the specials truly are; nothing makes us swim upstream faster than the cioppino, the seafood medley where the hits just keep on coming. Only problem is, it's barely on the menu, which is no sweat for the regulars: Dieter will actually call you when it's on the menu, which only makes us love him that much more--impossible, we know, but still. And, as a bonus, it's one of the best date-night restaurants we know: fancy enough to warrant slacks (makes your lady think you have class), but cheap enough to keep you from breaking the bank, even if it's a piggy bank.

Ask Americans about their heritage and almost invariably they will mention some distant Irish or Italian ancestor who fled the old country during a famine or riot or depressing film festival. Reconnecting with our Irish roots is a simple matter involving buckets of whiskey and a bloody brawl. Finding the inner Italian, on the other hand, requires more authenticity. Arcodoro & Pomodoro prepares true Sardinian cuisine in a space designed to mimic the rustic elegance of an Italian street-side cafe. More important, they serve grappa--more than 12 varieties--and other traditional liqueurs. Nothing says "I'm Italian" better than a day spent sipping the vicious remnants of the grapevine, bottled neatly and served in a deceptively narrow glass. Grappa packs enough wallop to put hair on a woman's upper lip.

We couldn't contain our excitement when Big Shucks, the big brother of Aw Shucks on Lower Greenville Avenue, opened last year. As its name implies, the new location is bigger, offering more outdoor seating for cool nights and indoor seating during the dog days. The one thing that hasn't changed is the crab legs, which are as scrumptious and fresh as ever. You can tell that when you snap a leg in two and the sweet white meat pulls cleanly out of its shell. Naturally, the process creates quite a mess. Unlike most restaurants, which serve up crab legs with prepackaged towelettes, Shucks takes the Louisiana approach: lemons. Just squeeze some lemon juice on your raw paws and wipe 'em down with paper towels.

If you want a tasty, crispy spinach salad, Greenz can fix you up, but their specialty is more creative inventions, like the Bar None, a salad festooned with steak, tomatoes and mixed nuts and served in a pretzel bowl. Other fanciful salads include warm pear and goat cheese, BBQ Texas slaw and spicy panko shrimp. Every visit has included fast, helpful service and the opportunity to try delicious extras like creamy asparagus and ancho tortilla soups.

Be honest, most salsas that restaurants bring out with the premeal basket of chips taste pretty much the same. The only difference is whether they're mild, hot or nuclear. Unless, that is, you're dipping into Ozona's unique blend of fire-roasted tomatoes, jalapeños and lots of fresh garlic that make up a West Texas-style salsa that will have you returning for more. Served warm, it'll get the sweat beading but won't leave blisters on the roof of your mouth. And it's a bonus to be able to dip it or spread it over your entrée while seated in the recently remodeled tree-covered patio.

The entire staff is from Turkey, and Turks not only know food, they have atmosphere nailed. Unique and authentic hookahs, rugs, and wine bottles adorn the walls and shelves. There is a library feel to this place in that everything feels so well-placed and so...cultural. They have a belly dancer who entertains while you eat, and scares the hell out of your children...especially your pubescent male ones.

It comes paired with potato-crusted calamari. But in this case the dunking medium is better than what's dunked. The dip is robust, rich, and lively with smoothness rippled by big chunks of blanched tomato. It's so racy, you could make lingerie out of it.

No, Frito pie wasn't invented in a double-wide disposal. Daisy Dean Doolin, mother of Elmer Doolin, the Frito Company founder, concocted the recipe in the kitchen of her San Antonio home way back in 1932 in the depth of the Great Depression. At Sonny Bryan's downtown tunnel location, they substitute chopped brisket for ground beef in the $4.99 Thursday Frito pie special, and it makes for a monster dish. The beef is mixed with Fritos corn chips, barbecue sauce, beans, chives and cheese. You also get a small drink. Dave "The Baron of Beef" Rummel, the store's manager, says Thursdays have become the shop's biggest day of the week partly because of the rising popularity of this down-home dish. Ham, sausage, chicken and the very tasty pulled pork are featured the other days of the week. In these lean times, Mrs. Doolin's hearty invention should keep you feeling fat until dinner, if not into the middle of next week.