This is Texas, so it's understood that there are quite a few margaritas to be had out there. And before we went on this quest we were pretty accepting of whatever 'rita goodness was served to us. Then we walked into Sol's. To be honest, we weren't thinking Best of Dallas. We were just having some Mexican food with a friend and decided to imbibe. Our patient waiter discussed with us the merits of the top shelf and urged us to choose that over the basic version. A little suspicious of a possible up-sell, we went ahead. Bless that man! Sauza Conmemorativo and Gran Marnier provided an outstanding base for what our bartender concocted for us. It was light, not too tart, not too sweet, didn't burn the hair off our chest, and yet it sure as hell hit us about 10 minutes later. This top shelf schooled us in the finely prepared margarita.

Part of the experience of the Izmir order is the personality of the husband-and-wife team (Mehdi and Faye Nazari, an uncle and aunt of the owners Beau and Ali) that usually answers the phone. Mehdi's got an amazingly accented voice that is welcoming and calming (for those of us who hate phoning in an order). And both he and Faye are fantastic at helping the undecided choose what to order. The chicken and arugula sandwich on marble rye bread is amazingly bold. Chicken schnitzel is a true specialty, and the cold mozzarella sandwich with basil and tomatoes is crisp, light and makes a perfect meal with the addition of a side Greek salad (the dressing, oh, the dressing). The Mediterranean fare is a top-notch delivery option, but plan to order before 9 p.m. As Mehdi always says, they'll have it there "in about 40 minutes, hopefully sooner." It's always sooner, and in the world of delivery, punctuality and ordering assistance along with spectacular food make Izmir Market and Deli truly the best. Don't forget to order a brownie; they're delicious and about as big as your face.

Throughout the year Celebrity Bakery does these great seasonal and holiday iced cookies, always fresh and moist, with delicious decorations for everything from Christmas to Bastille Day. Any holiday at all is a great excuse for biting into one of these little works of art.

The cuisine at this bowling alley-sized Indian dining room is lush, colorful, and laced with clean flavors. Virtually everything, from the spinach pakora (batter-fried spinach leaves) to the shrimp birani (shrimp with basmati rice) to the chutneys is brisk and tasty. Plus a huge TV screen surrounded by assorted monitors beams in programming from India: a cornucopia of televised entertainment such as action chase scenes featuring steam locomotives and grizzled criminals who sing and dance. Must be the lentils.

Metro is an old roadside slinger within spit shot of Dallas' downtown skyline. It's an archaic, rudimentary grub hut, one whose only modern amenity is a jukebox packed with CDs. Griddle sizzle is the constant din; ice machine whirs the constant hum; smoke clouds and grill gusts the incontinent weather. Booth seating is covered in deep red vinyl embedded with metal flake: an homage, perhaps, to all those jacked-up, candy apple red Chevelles and Chargers of years past. The menu's got a kind of hum to it, too, and maybe a rattle. Metro porky dinner has two pork chops and a pile of hash browns that feel like they were dragged through 40-weight (best to eat with a spoon). Home boy is a double-meat chicken-fried steak. This is the kind of meaty one-two punch that has horrified the health professions for decades. There's also stewed potatoes, fried catfish, eggs galore (even with a chicken-fried steak), pancakes--and refreshing lemonade, which serves as a kind of Drano to remove some of the excess lipids lining your plumbing. Most of us think that, anyway.

It's Sunday evening, the lawn's mowed, laundry's done, the kitchen's clean and, frankly, why dirty it again? Pick up the phone and call the friendly man who remembers every customer (and we're convinced he's the super-nice delivery guy, too) and won't complain if you want a fountain drink instead of a canned one. While the Mongolian beef, fried rice and chicken lo mein are sure bets, there's a dish that's truly worth the caloric intake and financial splurge on takeout: General Tso's chicken. It's nothing short of delectable, with crispy bits surrounding tender chicken pieces in a sweet and spicy sauce (mind the demonic red peppers). There's nothing "general" about this chicken; it's so good we can't believe it arrives in Styrofoam.

It's not every day you come across a good burger. Much less a non-meat burger. Even rarer are the chances of it being a good burger if it's made out of beans. But we're here to tell you the best bean burger in the city limits, maybe in the state, is found at Legal Grounds. Served on a toasted, cracked-wheat bun, this black bean patty is dressed up with a sauce any hungry Texan would be proud of: sautéed corn and onions mixed with barbecue sauce and melted cheddar cheese. The calorie counters and vegetarians among us will be proud, too, knowing it has just 6 grams of fat, 18 grams of carbs and 13 grams of protein.

Crisp, crunchy, cool, hot and soft are all words that can describe a banner bacon-lettuce-tomato sandwich. But the bacon is the clincher for a good BLT. It has to be two things: perfectly crispy with no chewy parts and hot. One without the other just won't cut it. The lettuce must offer a cool, thin crunch against the bread, and the tomato must be firm and fresh. These all sound like obvious requirements, and ones easily met, but most anywhere, a BLT is hit or miss. Except at the Lakewood Landing. The Landing stands out time and again for the toasty goodness. The mayo has appropriate zing, and the toasted bread doesn't overwhelm the sandwich innards. The Landing's BLT is blue-ribbon material.

Nothing fancy here. No avocado, no chutney, no heirloom veggies. TABC just creates a good, honest bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich. Their only nods to upscale pretension are homemade bread and apple smoked bacon. So whence the accolades? Well, unlike most restaurants, which pile on lettuce and tomato then lay a couple of greasy strips across the top, these guys stack the thing with bacon while skimping on lettuce. Oh, and not limp, soggy bacon either, but thicker pieces fried to a near-burnt crisp state of perfection. They understand the only thing that matters in a BLT is the B part. Want a pile of lettuce doused with mayo? Order a salad at any DISD lunchroom. .

Dad says the best hangover cure is to take an aspirin before bed and another upon waking up, washed down with a Coca-Cola. That works for the headache and drunken-injury aches, but what about that pit inside screaming for sustenance? Enter the Angry Dog and eat away at the post-intox hunger with an Angry Dog cheeseburger, nachos or even The Natural if you're not real keen on the meat. This may sound like a bad thing, but the sodium content of a burger here is enough to force you into healthy hydration for the remainder of the day, and that's a good thing when the only liquid in your system is the kind others can smell emitting from the pores on your contaminated body. The waitstaff is helpful and deft at refilling drinks and maneuvering through the close tables and our burger-eating asses. Plus, if you subscribe to the "hair of the dog" system, the full bar can knock you out of hangover and into next week.

Even if you just order a cup of coffee, you can enjoy the lovely indoor flora and open ceiling at this place. The room is just the right size, with seating for about 25. A table for two in the corner can be quite a romantic affair.