It's not a sushi bar, and it's not a bistro--at least not in the traditional senses of such establishments. It's more like a brisk, clean comfortable hybrid that serves decent raw fish and thrilling little exotic specials such as monkfish liver, grilled smelt bursting with tarry roe, and Yumeya beef, a paper-thin sheet of marinated meat fashioned on the plate like a lotus leaf. Yumeya doesn't serve pomme frites, but it does serve sun-dried sardines. Think of what a small sack of these would do for a bagged burger.

On Fridays, Blue Fish makes a startlingly generous offer: $1 draft beers and sake. Our man goes for the rice wine (a taste to which we have never grown accustomed), but we go for a frosty pint (or three) of Kirin Ichiban--a crisp Japanese pilsner that has become one of our favorite drafts in the city. It goes perfectly with Blue Fish's excellent sushi, which runs from the traditional to the fusion-eclectic. And though we are huge fans of the salmon sashimi, we appreciate the fact that Blue Fish offers cooked dishes for those customers who feel less comfortable with, you know, raw flesh. Of course, we always encourage newbies to relax and have a few drinks before they dive in. At $1 a pop, we could stay there all night (and sometimes do).

Whenever we take jaded locals to Jimmy's, which is across the street from Mai's and Hall's Hobby Shop (two more local landmarks), they're always shocked at the treats and treasures this place holds. They take it for granted that it's one more quickie convenience store, one more neighborhood stop-and-rob on an urban corner; they've driven by it a hundred times and never given it a second glance. It's their loss, and our job to correct their mistaken impressions: This place, owned and operated by fourth-generation Sicilians, is a veritable gastric paradise, a repository of exotica. One aisle overflows with olive oils from the homeland; another is drenched with fine Italian wines available at the nicest price. From capers to crackers, from coffee (Café Bustelo, that dark Miami nectar, is our favorite) to cheeses (including bufala mozzarella, the Tom Hicks of cheese), Jimmy's is your one-stop shopping for a day of nibbling or a night of culinary get-down. The nerve center of Jimmy's is its meat market, located at the back and packed to the brine with some of the finest olives, cheeses and meats in town (the prosciutto is primo). And it's back there they concoct the Cuban sandwich, a spicy mélange of pickles and pork, ham and Swiss cheese, mustard and butter (and, likely, so much more; one bite makes our taste buds do the masticatin' mambo). Call ahead--it takes a good 15 minutes to prepare this delicacy--but stop by and pick up one. Or five. At $4.99, it's a real bargain--the lunch that keeps on giving, if you know what we mean.

At Gloria's in Addison there are two kinds of salsa. One comes in a dish and is pretty hot. The other is on the dance floor, and it's even hotter. On Friday and Saturday nights the Mexican-Salvadoran restaurant transforms into a Latin Dance Dance Revolution. Couples step, gyrate, dip, spin and swivel, working up a sweat and working off the excellent empanadas and enchiladas that started off the evening. If you're looking to heat up your night, go to Gloria's. It's like one-stop shopping: dinner, drinks and dancing in one festive location.

If you have thrown concern for cholesterol to the wind, this place is a one-stop pig-out. The ribs are the specialty of the house, but just in case you're in the mood for honest-to-goodness soul food, there are collard greens, cabbage and red beans. You'll get friendly service, huge portions at the right price, and there's always gospel music playing in the background. You'll think you've died and gone to hog heaven.

Never could a college student afford so much seafood as at Rockfish (maybe that should be a bumper sticker). This laid-back establishment has friendly, easy-going waiters, fast service, and good portions. Since its opening a year ago, the place has caught on with Richardson residents and students, so expect a wait. For a quick meal on the go, order the fried shrimp basket. These good-sized shrimp have a tasty batter that doesn't overpower and tangy cocktail sauce that'll clear your sinuses. Ask for more horseradish if it doesn't have enough kick for you. Grab a bucket of peanuts and throw the shells on the floor. Just don't throw them at other customers. They don't like that.

This is a tough category, because everyone has a different version of what makes a great pizza: thin crust, chunky toppings, lots of sauce, extra cheese, blah blah blah. Tell you what: Just go to Nick Badovinus' hip and happenin' joint (next to his Cuba Libra) and scan the menu. You'll find just the right pie for you. If you don't (our little one just wanted "plain ol' pepperoni pizza"), they'll make it for you. Fantastic flamed pies and big salads are the attraction here, as is the star-packed patio. The scene and the slices are worth the wait.

Readers' Pick

Campisi's

Various locations

Restaurant Week, usually in late August every year, has grown up: It now includes almost 100 restaurants, from casual family to formal dining. During Restaurant Week you can make a reservation at any of the featured venues and enjoy a prix fixe three-course meal at $30 a person. For many of the more expensive places, this is a very economical way to try out a new spot. All you have to do is look at the list on KRLD.com, call the place and make a rez. In recent years, the event has generated contributions of $35,000 to $45,000 for the North Texas Food Bank and the Lena Pope Home. You get good food, and good causes get some money. Good deal all around.

So what makes a good pizza? Some say it's fresh toppings, others the crust. Piggie Pies has both. The crust is neither thin nor thick, but cooked perfectly in between. And there's no skimping on the toppings, which are cut large (no canned veggies here) and piled so high atop a gooey wad of mozzarella that one's shirt is in danger of permanent stains with every crust-bending bite. Piggie Pies also delivers. Never mind that thermo-wrapped approach some other pizza companies use, Piggie Pies' delivery is hot and always on time.

There is something horrifying yet natural about seeing vultures and hyenas fight over the scraps of meat clinging to a zebra carcass. It highlights the animals' desperation for survival in the hard African landscape. What's our excuse for the skirmishes that occur at eatZi's? Sure, the food is great and pre-prepared for modern convenience. But, my God, are we savages? Go there to witness grown men and women fighting for pasta salads and sandwiches like Stalin-era Ukrainians fighting for scraps of horsemeat. The peak time for the food scramble is 9 p.m., when the closeout stickers are applied to the least fresh food, designating them as half-price.