At the risk of never getting a table again, we'll impart our knowledge of a supreme lunch special. Monica Greene and her gang offer one of the most affordable lunches in town without skimping on flavor or quality ingredients. For a teensy $4.99, lunch patrons can have their pick of various enchiladas, Cha-Cha burritos, quesadillas, cheeseburger, Mexican lasagna (filling and flavorful) or, our favorite, Greene Pasta made with spinach jalapeño pasta. The portions aren't measly or humongous--just right for midday when there's still office work waiting. Monica's provides chips and salsa as well, so there's no leaving hungry. Even with a beverage and tip, the tab is still under 10 bucks.

Readers' Pick

Sumo Steak & Sushi

7525 Greenville Ave.

214-987-2333

It isn't one of the swankier steer temples. It isn't showered in the kind of swarthy wood paneling you thought was only used in confessional booths. It's well lit so that you can tell the difference between the creamed spinach boat and the iceberg lettuce wedge without tripping over the fork. It has 105 wines by the glass that can be used to patch together tasting flights. Their meat isn't even dry-aged (it's wet-aged, which is kind of like spending your 30s and 40s with your fingers in a Ponds jar). And it doesn't do everything well. The fish seems more pummeled by steer hoofs than scorched by grill bars. But what kind of fool eats tuna in a beef bordello anyway? Fleming's hits it where it counts: in the meat, primewise. Bone-in New York strip, a craggy piece of thick black meat, is so juicy, tender and rich that modifiers like "buttery" and "silky" fall flat on their face. It's prepared simply, with a little salt, pepper and butter, and served on a plate heated to 350 degrees. Yet the meat and its effect on the mouth are hard to describe. It's chewy without being gristly; it's packed with flavor without being fatty. And these steaks don't cost as much as Botox injections. Sometimes aging is cheap.

Even people who aren't fans of pizza will surreptitiously try to sneak a slice of Scalini's. It's thin, not too delicate and the options for topping allow creative license for personal pizza heaven. For dining in, delivery or carryout, the family folks at Scalini's serve up the best thin-crust pie we've ever masticated. Although incredible when direct from the oven, the cheesy goodness is never compromised by a quick car ride. A favorite with us is one with sausage, fresh basil and fresh tomatoes (for veggie-lovers, eighty-six the sausage and add pine nuts). The flavor is robust, and the aroma is divine. Order up; just don't forget a side Greek salad.

There's a lot of all-you-can-eat lunch buffets out there, the kind that let you dump ladle upon ladle of quick-set cellulite mix onto a plate and then go back for more after you've licked it to a sheen. The pity is that these places don't offer forklift service to your car when you've exhausted the "all" part of the you-can-eat designation. Well, you won't have to worry about being propelled by a Clark after you pay the check at Chef Hsu--which rings in at $5.25 for all your little paunch can hold without popping a rivet. Chef Hsu's "super buffet" actually contains food you'll want to dabble in two or three times: bright and crisp fresh vegetables, juicy fresh fruits, near-greaseless fried foods, terrific hot and sour soup, delicious heads-on prawns and great fried rice, just to mention a few of the foods slumped in this enormous set of binge beds. This has more buck-bang than a six-pack of Hormel hash.

You may think you need to live near this White Rock eatery to order its pizza, but we would argue that the trip is worth it unless you live in Wylie or Red Oak--and even then, it may be a good idea to give it a go. Alfonso's is a small Italian restaurant that serves pretty good pasta, but it's the pizza that distinguishes this place. Generous portions, fresh vegetables, enough (but not too much) tomato sauce, sausage to die for...oh, sweet Mama, we're gettin' hungry. Our fave? Difficult to say, but it's hard to go wrong with a large sausage, onion and mushroom.

Café Brazil now has a half-dozen locations, but this location is our favorite spot to stop for a pile of crepes and a bottomless cup of coffee for those nights when you're not quite ready to go home after the bars close. Come 2 a.m., especially on a weekend night, the place is wall-to-wall with people. The band may be done playing, but this crowd makes the show go on.

The title Best Hamburger is not limited to the burger alone. It encompasses the atmosphere and the options as well as flavor. When we want a burger, chances are we want a drink, too. (Hey, we're going for the full-blown unhealthy beef and brew combo.) Enter the Landing, as we neighborhood dwellers are prone to call it, and they've got the atmosphere and the options for our dietary delinquency. It's dark, cool and no one's easily identifiable should our running partner happen to saunter by. Plus, there's a selection of cheeses (go with provolone) to heighten the caloric content of our edible sin. The taste is slightly charred, not too salty and fresh with all the veggies piled on. And the bun...the bun is sheer toasty goodness. Fries abound, and there's even a veggie burger for the meat-free. Order a beer and burger, hit one of the best jukeboxes in town and choose a well-worn seat for a real red-meat treat.

This thin-air refuge of exceptional cuisine is perched on the 38th floor of the skyscraping Adam's Mark tower. Here, it's easy to mingle among the shimmering mirrored and green luminescence of Dallas' skyline--a welcome respite from the Cheesecake Factory gothic-inspired architecture in Plano, which you can also see from this perch. Peering through the Chaparral Club's expansive floor-to-ceiling windows is heart-pounding, especially when you aim your telescope at the non-reflective windows.

It's a long drive at highway speeds (35 or so miles south of Dallas). But that pales when you consider how difficult it is to complete a New Orleans jaunt without a head hum and a humiliating struggle with a Tylenol childproof cap. Chez Willie's is in Ennis, home of the "ultimate drag racing facility," otherwise known as Texas Motorplex, where people do short drives at 320 mph. But unlike the Motorplex, Chez Willie's isn't a huge megaplex. So consider yourself among the fortunate few when you park your bottom and open your chops to shovel in tasty boiled crawfish (in season), rich étouffée, spiced-to-an-arousing-prickle blackened meats and fish, topless New Orleans oysters and swamp critters such as fried frog legs and alligator. It must be easier to wrestle a gator onto a menu than a cap from a Tylenol bottle.

Often, big muffs are overrated. What you want is a muff that is just the right size. You ever try to eat a muff that was too big to fit in your mouth? Not fun. Quality, not quantity, is the way to go when searching out a tasty muff. Which is why our favorite muffuletta, when we're not wanting to stuff ourselves, is the authentic one found at Gulf Coast. Served with Cajun fries and (if you're smart) topped off with a $2 Stoli Bloody Mary, this bite of heaven takes us back to New Orleans' Central Grocery, the originator of the muff. And if you can't pay homage to the muff's home, then don't put one in your mouth.

Crescent City Cafe
Isn't Louisiana considered one of the fattest states? Judging by the Louisiana cooking replicated in the Crescent City Cafe's muffuletta, it's no wonder. For the uninitiated, the muffuletta is a delectable sandwich with unusual flavor from a combination of ham and cheese and olives on a toasted loaf of sesame-seed-topped bread. The cafe sells the quarter muffuletta. Or you can get a half muffuletta, which is filling enough that you can skip meals for the next several days. Throw us some beads.