This Greek café is unpretentiously cozy and distinctively romantic with a roster of authentic Greek cuisine that's fresh, flavorful, and paraded past the nostrils via a host of sampler plates. This food is more comprehensible than...well, Greek.

Just as the Magnolia (and before it the Angelika Film Center) has exponentially expanded the city's movie-going options, Paciugo Gelato, the "Italian Gelato Renaissance," has broadened the city's snacking horizons. Gelato is another word for ice cream, but Paciugo's gelato is no ordinary ice cream. What makes this ideal after-movie snack so silky is it contains less air and is not as "cold" as other brands, allowing its natural flavors to tantalize the taste buds. This especially smooth treat also sits lightly in the tummy because, dieters take note, it contains less fat and sugar than the standard fare. The more tepid American can make the European leap into gelato by ordering familiar flavors, like a devilish chocolate-chocolate chip or Rocky Road, while the more adventurous might experiment with marron glacé, pannacotta or tiramisu. Our favorite is lavender.

The Observer's Mark Stuertz suggests you "feed your culinary soul" at Watel's, a French restaurant that is one of Dallas' top eateries. But we suggest you experience your fine food with some aural ambience. Chef-owner René Peeters (one of the nicest guys who'll ever confit your duck) offers $29, four-course jazz dinners every other Monday or so. (Check www.watels.com for updates.) With your music you get a soup of the day, salad, one of eight entrées (such as crabmeat lasagna, spinach ravioli with chardonnay and walnuts or petit filet mignon grilled with herbed jus) and a choice of dessert. Music to our ears.

We were going to give this to Einstein's, but something about handing out this accolade to a chain; readers do that enough anyway (fave burger in years past: Burger King; we kid you not). Besides, we love this venerable establishment, which is the Cheers of local bageltoriums; on any given morning, regulars can be spotted hanging out with owner Herschel Rayford (known solely by his first name...like Charo), discussing life, drinking jumbo cups of good (not great, but close) coffee and noshing on some of this town's finest soulful holeless breadstuffs. We're partial to the everything bagel--garlic, poppy, sesame, goodness--especially when toasted and sandwiched with egg, cheese and bacon for the aptly named breakfast special. This is the closest we've found to the New York-style bagel, and we've looked; we wandering Jews will wander far, far, far for the perfect bagel and the quintessential salami and Reuben sandwiches, of which this place serves plenty.

Lord, how we try to keep healthy--hard to stay that way when the last time you saw the inside of a gym was in sixth-grade P.E. But, hey, Central Market's expansive produce section--some 4,312 varieties of radishes alone, at last count--was gonna help us stay trim. For months we cruised the asparagus like horny frat boys at a sorority mixer; we guzzled the green-veggie mystery swirl, ate only fresh chicken and the still-twitching seafood, bought nuts in bulk and fat-free milk by the gallon. And, man, were we ever getting fit, lean enough to fit into our senior-prom tux, still a lovely hue of blue. Awesome. Then they had to go and open a Krispy Kreme right next door, and eff it if our jeans didn't suddenly look one size too small for Kate Moss. What were we supposed to do? Ignore the red sign, taunting and daring us with its promise of fresh, hot doughnuts right off the assembly line? No. No. No. Our car full of healthy goodness, we inevitably steered just inches and gained feet on our waistline, and we couldn't help it; we're junkies in need of the hot, sugary fix. But every now and then we do the guilt-free thing and get the doughnuts before they're doused in sugar; surely, that's the diet version, innit?

We were always partial to the pig sandwich here, which is simply pulled pork between two slices. And it's good, don't get us wrong, but as we've gotten older and wiser, and as other places famous for their burgers have gotten slow and sloppy, we've come to appreciate the never-declining quality of Chip's. With burgers thick enough to be tasty, thin enough to pile with toppings and still get your mouth around it, Chip's has for years been an SMU and Park Cities staple. But don't let that deter you. Everyone, even the rich, know a good burger when they see one. Just that on you, it goes right to your hips. Them, not so much.

Readers' Pick

Snuffer's

Various locations

On a recent Saturday, we stopped by our regular bagel provider for a dozen of the everythings--garlic with poppy and sesame and the wondrous addition of sunflower seeds--and were told there won't be a batch ready for 10 minutes. So we waited patiently, like Job or his second cousin, and were greeted by a bagful of the hottest, softest, moistest round of bread we've ever put between two (scorched at this point) lips. We devoured half our dozen before walking out the door--this is to bagels what Krispy Kreme is to the hot doughnut, the closest thing to nirvana since Dave Grohl was just a drummer. So beg Herschel, the owner, for fresh ones when you walk through the door. Wait if you must--skip school, ditch work, put off writing Best of Dallas entries, whatever you must to get those bagels before they cool a single degree. Cream cheese is for wussies.

Believe it or not, that's BLT as in bacon, lettuce, and tomato. The creamy dip (based on mayonnaise and sour cream) is smoky with bacon and piquant with sun-dried tomato. Grab a few packages of toasted bagel bits, and you've got an hors d'oeuvre that puts the old onion dip out to pasture.

Some are flat, some are bilious, some rely mainly on salt for their flavor; Lucky's tomato soup is merely sublime. We've always thought good tomato soup should have nothing to do with low fat--the piquant tomato taste should be gently subdued, but not overpowered, by the smoothness of cream. A real tomato base, evidenced by pureé and pieces, is likewise essential. Seasonings (including basil, we assume) add a savory kick, while the croutons sprinkled on top meld with the soup, creating a delicious breadiness. And, of course, soup goes well with the cool, crisp garden salad, topped with--well, don't get us started. We are certain we're shortening our life span with every creamy spoonful of this stuff, but we just can't stop ourselves.

OK, granted, we don't know anywhere else you can actually get a cachapa in Dallas, but even if we did, we would still think this is the best one in town. This South American bakery is one of our favorite lunchtime hangover spots, and that's primarily because of said dish. The cachapa, the big corn pancake with cheese and your choice (or not) of meat filling, is the perfect big, heavy, sumptuous meal you crave after a night out. Add that to some of the outstanding teas and coffees brewed here, and you have a lunch worth scarfing.