Its cool, slick Milano-inspired décor may be a bit much for some in Dallas to stomach (we think it's stunning). OK, although it looks like a cross between a bank lobby and a Shriner's dinette set, we admire successful crossbreeding. The food is even more stunning. With Salve!, restaurateurs Phil and Janet Cobb have created a marvel featuring "Tuscan-style home cooking" such as delicately delicious pastas and risottos, briskly fresh appetizers, and heartily savory entrées. Plus the all-Italian wine list is broad and comprehensive, with selections organized by region. And it has an interior piazza, just in case you want to let your hat tassels flutter in the wind.

Old-fashioned drinks require a certain atmosphere. Not necessarily a clubbish dark wood and leather, billowing clouds of cigar smoke, British accents type thing, mind you. Cocktails like the negroni or the mint julep or the old-fashioned call out for a bar. That is, a room dominated by a long counter backed by rows and rows of alcohol--the kind of place your grandfather frequented back when the greatest generation led this country through Prohibition, the Depression, war. You know, the good old days. The Meridian Room is such a place. Sophisticated without being fancy, it's a throwback in time listing a number of classic cocktails on the bar menu.

This is a damn good list almost by any measure. It incorporates virtually all of the world's best growing regions with ample stocks from places most wine lists ignore, such as Alsace and Germany. Plus, the list is packed with a great diversity of the world's best wines, those hailing from Bordeaux and Burgundy for instance. The selection of dessert wines is beefier than most lists after subtracting chardonnay and cabernet. Yet perhaps what sets Lola's list apart are the trimmings. It contains a robust selection of half-bottles, a generous by-the-glass list, plus an assortment of "twenty somethings," wines priced in the $20-$29 range. In fact, price may be the greatest feature of Lola's list. Markups are held down from the usual 3 to 4 times wholesale, so you'll have enough shekels left over to bribe the valet for a spin in a few of the exotic sports cars he's just parked.

Yeah, yeah, we know. This is Tex-Mex, not true Mexican cuisine. With food this good, though, why be so persnickety? This tiny restaurant in a brightly painted converted house on Maple Avenue has all we expect in a Mexican joint--tasty, cheesy enchiladas, fiery salsa, creamy guacamole and rich tortilla soup--plus it offers something we don't expect. You can actually eat a full meal here and walk away without that heavy lump in your stomach that we call Tex-Mex belly. Lighter on salt and grease than typical Tex-Mex fare, Avila's food nevertheless is full-flavored and rich. Try the chicken enchiladas with tomatillo sauce--even avid calorie counters won't feel too guilty. The recipes are variations of the dishes Anita Avila and her husband used to cook for their houseful of guests, says son Ricky, who works there along with his mother and brother Octavio. A mother's touch--that must be what makes the food so special.

Readers' Pick

Luna de Noche

Various locations

Steak. Not just any steak. Bob's steak. USDA prime steak, steak as thick as the bull in a campaign speech. Ask anyone anywhere in Dallas (who doesn't believe his great-grandparent has come back as a steer) who has the best steak, and he'll reflexively spit out Bob's. The flavor is rich. The meat is juicy. Tough gristle has been evacuated. The texture is buttery. The degree of doneness is perfect. And if that weren't enough, Bob throws in a potato and a glazed carrot for no extra charge, though you might want to pay him to keep the latter off your table. Bob's steak knocked our socks off. It renewed our faith in God, or steers anyway. Bob is the bovine boss. And that ain't no mad cow bull.

First it was Going Gourmet. Then entrepreneur Suzie Priore took over and retagged it Suze. In the process of transforming it to her set of tastes, Priore brought former Toscana chef Gilbert Garza. Roughly 18 months later, Garza bought out Priore. He subjected the restaurant to relatively minor changes. Garza has even left the menu somewhat intact, keeping a handful of holdovers. The food is simple, meaning it isn't burdened with "look-at-me" ensembles or unruly clashings of obtuse flavors. Everything is intelligent, balanced and clean. And when you combine this with a snug homey atmosphere and reasonable prices, you've got a great takeover--all done without junk bonds and Brooks Brothers suits.

We have this aunt. Her name is Lena. Well, technically she's a great-aunt, as she is our grandmother's sister. Anyway, her schtick is that she's always cooking. You walk in her house, any time of the day past 11 a.m., and there is a huge cast-iron skillet full of chicken frying sitting atop her stove. And the smell is unbelievable. So you would make up excuses to go there--"Gotta take Aunt Lena some Aquaman comics, so see you later!"--just so you could eat this juicy, sumptuous, peppery fried chicken. And when we moved away, we were sad, because we didn't think you could find fried chicken like that. And then one innocent day, we ordered fried chicken from Brothers. And we ate so much we got sick. And we cried on our bones and called Aunt Lena that night just to say hi. What we're saying is the chicken here is damn good.

Readers' Pick

Circle Grill

3701 N. Buckner Blvd.

214-324-4140

It's lodged in a circa-1946 duplex cluttered with family photos, stained-glass windowpanes, and antique furniture (all with little Minnie Pearl price tags dangling from them). It features delicious Southwestern-inspired items (lobster tacos) and dishes of other influences (Muscovy duck, seared pork steak ravioli), all at prices that won't force you to tie Minnie Pearl price tags on the kids and park them next to those stained-glass windowpanes. Casa Del Lago is owned by former Landmark-Mansion-Nana Grill chef Hector Angeles, who has done quite a job fashioning a respectable restaurant out of a space that could just as easily have been a wig salon.

Chef Jason Gorman has done many wonderful things during his short time at the 16-year-old City Café. But among his finest is this: potato Stilton agnolotti (Piedmont-style ravioli) in herb truffle butter sauce. It's hard to overstate what a rich, balanced and focused culinary eruption this project becomes in the mouth. Arranged in a circle around the plate, the smooth pillows are delicate (almost like a pastry in character) but forceful, merging smoothly with the butter sauce. They're topped with diminutive cauliflower florets and baby carrots strafed with crumbles of Stilton cheese. The dish comes with a choice of grilled chicken breast or grilled shrimp. Yet the best thing about this dish is that it's also among the least expensive entrées at City Café, coming in at roughly 18 bucks. Which means it's a responsible way to gradually squander the kid's college fund, at least more responsible than prime steaks would be.

Why would a Houston-based grocery store chain have good sushi? For that matter, why would 7-Eleven announce it has entered the bait business or expect to compete in freshness? We don't know the answers, but check out Tom Thumb's selection. For about five bucks, you can acquire a sweet little package of the sticky rice and seaweed concoctions. In summer months, with an abundance of caution, we stick to the California veggie offerings, because we're never quite sure about any fish that has traveled any distance in the Dallas heat in allegedly refrigerated trucks.