The spicy Greek pizza at this takeout-only spot near Lakewood is the best excuse to forgo pepperoni in town: crisp crust with a garlic-olive oil base, mozzarella, seasoned chicken, kalamata olives, tomatoes, red onions, pepperoncinis and feta cheese. Owners Omar Dibe and his wife, Sadie Ayers, opened shop last spring and offer traditional Italian pizza as well, but their Lebanese-inspired pies are standouts: Try rosemary chicken, margarita and ardalino with baked eggplant slices. Dibe and Ayers are beefing up their imaginative menu all the time. They've just added oven-baked paninis, subs, pita wraps and gyros. Order and take home, or slip into Lota's Goat next door for some liquid and musical accompaniment.

OK, so it might be a wholly unmonastic indulgence. But The Abbey Café's slow-roasted pork tenderloin is among the best kitchen devotions to the Babes and Arnold Ziffels of the world we've ever tasted. Two pieces of tender, juicy crown tenderloin are hit with stinging cayenne that spars with craggy chunks of coarsely cracked pepper. The meat is brilliantly paired with a cherry and jalapeño cranberry sauce that meshes well with the meat, creating an alluring harmonious tug between heat, restrained sweetness and tang. Go ahead. Eat it. It's been blessed by St. Gregory Peccary.

There's no cure for the summer--or winter, fall or spring--time blues like a few squares of fresh cornbread and a slab of chicken-fried steak smothered in peppered cream gravy. But don't forget the veggies: The mashed potatoes have skins, and the broccoli is steamed until tender. Everything's exactly like Ma makes it. Only Lucky's waitstaff won't make you clean your plate before chocolate cake is served.

The adjective "vegan" usually evokes visions of plates full of gray, squishy substances or tasteless products designed to resemble meat, not a big hunk of chocolate cake or a large, gooey brownie. But at Cosmic Café, the yummy Indian-style meals can conclude with desserts sans dairy products. The cakes, which don't scrimp on the frosting, may also be bought whole and taken home to celebrate the birthday of your favorite herbivore. They go great with Cosmic's mango, coconut, and banana ice creams. Sorry, those are for non-vegans only.

Sure, the building looks vacant from the street, and it sits in a neighborhood that can get rough after, like, 10 a.m., but please look beyond this, for Jade Garden is one of the best Chinese restaurants in Dallas, a place as filling as it is good as it is cheap. And this last point is the true measure of its worth. At Jade Garden, two people can have a soup of their choice, water and an entrée for $3.50 each. Three dollars and 50 cents. That's $7 for whoever's buying. And go ahead, throw in tax and a tip. If you pay with a 10, you're still stuffing a bill in your pocket when you leave. And you're leaving full and satisfied: The food is served quickly but doesn't taste like a chain restaurant. It tastes, instead, like the steal it is.

The restaurant works hard for this honor. They throw parties every Monday. They serve breakfast almost all day. They even put ears on their pancakes. Given all they do--and the fact that Mom and Dad can get a decent, fresh-tasting meal--we think the eatery deserves credit as "cool, Mom."

Short of hopping a plane to India, you won't get a better gulab jamun--cake-like fried milk balls in scented syrup--than at India Palace Restaurant. They make it to the proper consistency and temperature to prevent the mushiness that often mars this Eastern standard. A refreshing dessert after a heavy meal.

We've come to the conclusion that Italian in Dallas is the rope-a-dope cuisine. It takes its punches and wobbles weakly, acting like it's barely in the ring. Then when you least expect it, it springs to life and delivers a knockout blow. We aren't sure yet if Il Mulino New York is that knockout blow (we're still dizzy, and we think we can get up if the waiter would just quit pointing that finger in our face and give us a hand), but there sure are a lot of parts stinging. There's the tummy (portions are huge), the ribs (the food is so rich it clings) and the wallet (your check will equal the gross domestic product of Lilliput). Il Mulino is bold. It's raw. It's tasty, bluntly flaunting its rich cuisine from Italy's Abruzzi region. And in virtually all instances, this food is beautiful. Zucchini slices, sautéed in wine and garlic, drenched in olive oil and flurried with oregano and pepper flakes, are simply the best rendition of this vegetable we've ever tasted. Pastas are perfectly supple with just the right amount of give against the teeth. But the most compelling composition here is the veal Marsala--a masterpiece. Thin patches of veal are crowded in a haze of porcini mushrooms slathered in a rich, smooth Marsala sauce of uncommon richness, leaving hints of toffee on the finish. And it's a hammer blow to the city's moribund Italian strain that forever wavers between mediocre and tragic.

Readers' Pick

Maggiano's Little Italy

205 NorthPark Center

214-360-0707

Not only does Basha serve lots of garlicky hummus, roasted eggplant dip, tabbouleh, tangy labni (Middle Eastern cream cheese) made from house-made yogurt, falafel balls and great kabobs. It also serves up special dinners in a "tent room" where you can sit on a low couch and eat sans knives or forks, replacing them with pieces of just-baked saj bread to scoop up grub. Belly dancers even stroll in for a kind of vivacious, animated dessert, the kind you get when you put a dish of pudding on a coin-op motel bed.

The fish and chips at Hook, Line & Sinker aren't served in newspaper as they are across the pond, but these come close. The catfish (available in portions from one fillet to four or a whole fish) is served in a wax paper-lined basket with slender hush puppies and long, thin french fries. All three are spicy and so crispy and almost greaseless that the paper lining isn't really needed--except for sanitary reasons, of course. Hook, Line & Sinker may look like a bait shack, but it's got standards, and they're very high.