Well, they do actually serve coffee here, but unlike the mass confusion of corporate coffeehouses, they've pared it down to five or six delicious choices. But you won't miss the coffee once you notice the fully stocked bar. New Amsterdam manages to maintain the relaxed intimacy of a coffeehouse while providing a good selection of beers and liquors. Unlike the many bars that seem awkward and gaudy in the light of day, New Amsterdam is equally cozy whether you drop by on a Saturday afternoon or a Thursday night (and if you come by on Mondays, you might catch some live jazz). So put some change in the jukebox, order some (Irish) coffee and pull up a dilapidated chair--this just might be the place where everybody knows your name.

Nikita is a hash of Soviet Bloc funk twisted and sanitized into Red hip, which means it serves caviar and James Bond flicks. But it also has one swell innovation crafted with a lowly proletariat root--the beet, progenitor of borscht. Nikita's golden beet and goat-cheese salad, feathered with arugula and planked with petite green beans, is a masterpiece. Slightly sweet and tangy pink beets loiter on the edges of a plate puffed with greens and doused in horseradish vinaigrette. Add a flight of vodkas, and it will send you into orbit like Laika the Sputnik 2 space dog.

La Dolce Vita
Take a break from overpowering, burnt-cheese-laden, tomato paste-centric Italian food with a light dish from La Dolce Vita. While they do serve classic pastas and pizzas, we often opt for the salads. The caprese, one of our favorites, is flavorful with juicy tomatoes, red onions and fresh, delicate mozzarella mixed with field greens and the house vinaigrette. We adore the arugula salad--crisp, peppery arugula and shaved lettuce drizzled with lemongrass olive oil. The fact that you can dine here without feeling like you ate a bread truck makes it a great lunch spot.

Back in the '90s, when Seinfeld dominated prime time, one of the things Elaine really wanted was a big salad. Sounds easy enough, but apparently it's more difficult than one might think, and Elaine's not the only one who's come up short. Dallas menus are laden with subpar salads--limp lettuce, bland dressings and sparse ingredients abound. But not at Baker Bros. These guys do it right, and they do it big. All five offerings on the deli's salad menu are excellent, but the Santa Fe chicken salad is a standout. A mix of greens sown with roasted chicken, cheddar cheese, tomato, red onion, green onion, black olives, cilantro and spiced pecans, the Santa Fe is a meal within a meal. Just when you think you've picked out all the good stuff, a quick flick of the fork reveals another layer of once-hidden heaven. And topped with Baker Bros.' Southwestern honey mustard, well, it's just too hard to talk about.

No, it isn't the waffles, though they're damn good. It's this little killer deal known as The Hearty Breakfast. For $5.45, Waffle Way will stuff your plumbing with two eggs, bacon or sausage and all the pancakes you can hold without busting or turning a shade of green that only Andy Warhol could love. They'll give you all the butter and syrup you need, too. It's good to be stuffed to the gills, or maybe the jowls, in the morning. If you have leaks in your plumbing, the feeling is doubly good.

Are you looking for a briny sweetness from your mussels, as our food critic always does? Or is that a sweet brininess? Your sacred seafood quest has ended. Daddy Jack's in Deep Ellum serves these mollusks up right. Besides being tender and, yes, chewy, each little fella is coated in a tangy garlic-tomato sauce. When this appetizer is placed on a generous slice of sourdough bread, you can make a meal of it, unless you are forced to share with others, which makes eating alone an attractive alternative.

If you want to support Deep Ellum but don't dare want to stay up past your bedtime, here's a good way to do it: Set up reservations for you and your honey, take 'bout $160 and make reservations at this DE staple. Here's what that covers: four courses of food and wine for each of you, each dish chosen by the chef based on what's freshest/bestest in the kitchen that day, that hour, that minute. If you have an allergy, tell 'em. If you prefer to start with the fantastic mussels (steamed in champagne with spinach, mushrooms, ginger and chili flakes), tell 'em. You prefer red meat to fish, tell 'em. Then sit back, drink from a fantastic wine list and eat some of the most sophisticated, hearty fare you'll find in town. Suggestion: Plan on taking a cab home. Most likely, you'll be stuffed and loaded when you leave.

The fried mushrooms at Snookie's are everything they should be: plump, juicy and not too greasy. These lightly battered balls of goodness are also just the right size--not so small that all you can taste is the crust, and not so large that the 'shroom overpowers. They're served with ranch dressing and horseradish sauce and extra-long toothpicks, which aid in easy dipping. And dip you will. The horseradish sauce is an excellent touch. At $4.25 and served in a plastic basket, Snookie's fried mushrooms aren't the epitome of class, but they go great with a couple of brewskis and some titillating barroom conversation.

Veal piccata, a thin veal escalope that's dredged in flour, seasoned, sautéed and sauced in lemon, takes on many forms in Dallas. Sometimes it's pasty, sometimes thick. Sometimes it's drowning in lemon to the pucker point. But Ernie's, a supper club with dancing and avocado crab salads, gets it right. Pounded into a skinny scaloppine and drenched with a bracing butter, wine and lemon sauce seriously studded with capers, the meat is tender and juicy. Plus, the flour dredge on the veal never congeals into that slimy Lake Ray Hubbard mucus that is so common in many Dallas preparations.

So this may not be what she thought when you told her "dinner and dancing." But with prices like this, you can afford to buy her flowers, too. Dining al fresco, as is the situation at Taco Loco, is always exciting, especially on a bustling Deep Ellum street. Taco Loco offers 17 kinds of tacos, including a few vegetarian choices, all priced at less than four dollars. Other dishes--tamales, enchiladas, fries, desserts--round out the menu, plus it's open all night on Friday and Saturday. And if you go to Deep Ellum on "Deep Friday," the first Friday of the month, you can enjoy live music at eight (or more) clubs for one cover price. They vary month to month, but past participants include Trees, The Curtain Club, Gypsy Tea Room and Club Clearview. Eat tacos, rock the night away. Repeat.

If chef Kent Rathbun's brilliantly orchestrated Abacus is anything, it's fancy. Its rich elaborateness is accomplished in thoroughly fresh ways, both on the plate and in the dining room. The food is complex with lots of influences meticulously merged in a loud, well-creased ascot sort of way. The décor is...well, it's a futuristic rendering of poshness. The interior is filled with dramatic angles, jarring plunges, and hard surfaces softened by sloping ceiling soffits and rounded points. It's rich with deep, bright reds and dark wood and lighting that add delicate sparkle. If the Starship Enterprise were retrofitted in red velvet and paneling, Bones wore a corset, and Kirk was called madame instead of captain, the bridge would look like Abacus. Warp speed.