N.C. Core Sounders with Pimiento and Prosciutto, 18 Seaboard, Raleigh

L ike nearly all couples I know, my wife and I have this thrice-weekly game in which we try to come to some sort of agreement on where we want to eat. Sure, we have our regular haunts, most of which are close to where we live in Durham, but we also have favorite spots in Raleigh and Chapel Hill and Carrboro and elsewhere in the Triangle. And so we debate"I had pizza yesterday." "Really? Mexican, again?"and debate"Can we go somewhere we can sit outside and bring the dogs?" "I'm not driving that far tonight; I don't care what you're craving"until we give up and either get something from around the corner or make dinner at home.

A decade ago, the psychologist Barry Schwartz wrote a seminal book called The Paradox of Choice, in which he argues that the abundance of choices at our disposal overwhelm us and paralyze our decision-making processes. Increasingly, I think this applies to the Triangle's food scene. There are so many excellent restaurants, so many innovators doing magical and interesting and weird things with food, so many styles and cuisines and regions of the world well-represented, and so many options that settling on just one can seem impossible.

We can't offer a solution to this paradox of choice. Indeed, as a newspaper that prides itself on championing the best parts of local culture, we want our food scene to keep expanding, to keep getting better, to keep racking up James Beard nominations and national acclaim, to keep getting weirder and more experimental. This is a good problem to have.

But what we can do is provide a guided tour of what we believe to be essential Triangle dishes. From brussels sprouts to barbecue, pizza to pork brains, churros to chaat, what follows is a list of one hundred dishes and desserts and apps and accompaniments that we think you absolutely must try, arranged in alphabetical order. There are obvious choices (yes, Poole's mac and cheese) and Southern staples (yes, lots of 'cue), but we also have selections that reflect our culinary diversity. There are plates that are beautifully simple and others that are more complex; some from highbrow restaurants, others from food trucks; some from places that might be familiar, others that won't be.

The next time you and your significant other are having some difficulty figuring out where to eat, consult this list, find something new, and dig in. Jeffrey C. Billman

Contributors: Amanda Abrams (AA), Jeffrey C. Billman (JCB), Katie Jane Fernelius (KJF), Curt Fields (CF), Lena Geller (LG), Ryan Haar (RH) Erica Hellerstein (EH), Brian Howe (BH), Layla Khoury-Hanold (LKH), Allison Hussey (AH), Debbie Matthews (DM), Meg Nesterov (MN), Hannah Pitstick (HP), Eryk Pruitt (EP), Caitlin Sloan (CS), Shan Stumpf (SS), Maddy Sweitzer-Lamme (MSL), Michael Venutolo-Mantovani (MVM), Iza Wojciechowska (IW)

I'd been waiting for the East Durham Bake Shop to open for quite some time, after getting to know baker Ali Rudel's pies at Ponysaurus and other pop-ups when she was still baking them at her house. So when the (very cute) shop finally opened earlier this year, I visited it on its first day, stared at the chock-full pastry counter indecisively for many minutes, and ultimately settled on a slice of apple honey rosemary pie.

It is, dare I say, the perfect pie. The crust, like in all of Rudel's pies, is delightfully flaky, and the subtle herbal flavor of the rosemary brings a plain old apple pie to extraordinary new heights. For me, apple pies are often too cinnamon-y, too sweet, or too syrupy, but there's none of that here. The honey does its part beautifully, but the pie as a whole isn't particularly sweet, which is pleasantly refreshing. I expect I'll be paying the East Durham Bake Shop many, many visitsthe handmade morning buns, Videri chocolate croissants, and savory pot pies are tantalizingbut I don't think anything but the apple honey rosemary pie can ever take the cake. (IW)

When we're on deadline, I'm not above eating a day-old light pastry left out on a counter in the newsroom to survive, and on a good day, I'll maybe grab a butter bagel from the Bagel Bar down the street. But every now and then, even masochistic editors need to treat themselves, which is why I keep my head on a swivel when I pass by Ninth Street Bakery in case they have the avocado toast that day. It's a pile of mashed avocado securely affixed to big, toasted slices of artisan country loaf, heaped with sticky, crunchy candied almonds and a masala spice blend. It's satisfying enough to be lunch, sweet enough to be dessert, and easy to eat while working. I can't even imagine how good it must be if you actually stop typing long enough to taste it. (BH)

Butter and jam? Sausage or ham? Traditional biscuit toppings are put to shame by Sunrise Biscuit Kitchen's Bad Grampa. Why choose between a bacon, egg, and cheese or a chicken biscuit in the morning when you can have both? You can't count yourself a Southern-breakfast expert until you've tried this delicious combo. Sunrise fries its juicy chicken fresh every morning. The chicken is stacked between warm eggs, crispy bacon, and then smothered in gooey cheddar cheese. These layers are then tucked between fluffy homemade biscuits. Add a side of hash browns, and that's what we call a real breakfast. (RH)

It's easy to miss La Cacerola when driving down Guess Road. Tucked beside an electronics store, the Honduran restaurant camouflages itself amid nail salons and mini-marts. It's a place you need to deliberately seek out rather than saunter into, but it's well worth the intention.

The menu offers a range of Honduran items, usually adorning fried chicken or fish or ground steak in signature sauces: entomatado or enceballado. But the baleadas are the hallmark option. Thick, soft flour tortillas folded over mounds of sour cream, cheese, beans, eggs, and sometimes chicharrones, the baleadas are too hearty to qualify as a taco, but not structured enough to qualify as a burrito. You hesitate before deciding whether to eat them with your hands or use a knife and fork. They are sloppy, homey food, good for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Just be sure to order the horchata (with cinnamon and lime rind) and a side of plantains to go with yours. (KJF)

Foregoing requisite stadium fare like hot dogs or popcorn, I recently ordered a single barbecue sandwich from one of Boshamer Stadium's rolling food carts that line the upper rim of the beautiful venue. The sandwich was gone by the time I found my way back to our seats, a mere thirty or so feet away.

As I sat extolling its virtues, my wife suggested that I was just excited because I had never expected such quality barbecue at a college baseball stadium. I challenged her challenge by ordering two subsequent sandwiches and found each more delicious than the last.

The no-nonsense sandwich, slightly larger in size than a slider, with nothing but meat on a fist-sized roll, hit all the hallmarks of North Carolina's famous 'cue. The vendor had both Eastern and Western sauce, which the customers apply themselves. I went with the vinegary Eastern sauce, which was sweet but possessed plenty of kick. The meat clung to itself, making it a perfect and neat ballpark snack.

As I bit into my third sandwich of the evening, my wife asked whether she had been correct in her assessment.

"Nope," I replied. "Still amazing." (MVM)

Back in my traveling days, street food was a revelation. Instead of enduring stale Westernized dishes in bland dining rooms, I could bump elbows with locals and enjoy just-cooked food with flavors that sang a song of the culture. Grilled sardines and roasted eggplant in Morocco. Falafel sandwiches with radishes in Syria. Meaty, fatty noodle soup in northern China.

Which must be why Viceroy's bhaji chaat spoke to me so loudly. In India, chaat is a snack sold in stalls on the street, the kind of thing you might grab at midnight after an evening with friends. Its personality is protean: Chaat can be hot or cold, wet or dry, based on potatoes or chickpeas or fried bread or crispy noodles. What it always is, though, is simultaneously spicy, sour, and crunchy.

Viceroy's menu lists bhajivegetable frittersseparately from the restaurant's chickpea-based chaat, allowing customers the option of ordering simply the fried cauliflower and potatoes. Which is a shame, because bhaji without chaat is like Frito pie without toppings: There's no point. Together, the chaat's tomato-based tanginess and raw onion zing serve as a counterpoint to the broad goodness of fried vegetables. Chickpeas provide body, mint and tamarind sauces lighten and brighten, and a drizzle of yogurt evens it out.

It's not a crowded street in Bangalore or Agra or Chandigarh, of course; it's a swanky restaurant in Durham. But close your eyes while you take that first bite. You might be transported for a moment. (AA)

Look, I get that in most cases, a good scone is still a mediocre pastry. In North Carolina, where our flaky, butter-laden baked-goods focus is reserved mostly for biscuits, it can be hard to get excited about the idea of a scone. But the blueberry scone at Bread & Butter is definitely something to get excited about. The crisp exterior yields to a heavily blueberried, cake-tender inside, flavored with butter and a light sweetness subtle enough to comfortably call this scone breakfast.

The modesty of the space from which Bread & Butter produces its fresh pastries and bread each day does not reflect the elegance of the products being baked. Behind the rickety chairs and shadowy exterior lies some of the highest quality ingredients available to bakers in the area. With flour from Lindley Mills in Graham and Maple View Farms dairy, the breads and cookies are fresh and elevated far above what has become the standard for area coffee shops. But while everything here is tasty, it's the blueberry scone that keeps me coming back week after week. (MSL)

Freshly harvested peanuts boiled in salt are are a staple snack in North Carolina. At Relishwhich specializes in local comfort food, from gourmet grilled cheese to mac and cheese skillets to brunch biscuitsthey're interpreted in a non-traditional way.

Relish developed the boiled peanut hummus for a Department of Agriculture event in 2014, and it was such a hit that it became a permanent fixture on the test kitchen menu. Relish's hummus is made much like the traditional chickpea dip, with tahini, garlic, cumin, and a bit of cayenne pepper. But like a peanut butter sandwich, it isn't really complete without jelly. In this case, a pepper jelly made by Yahs Best Products.

Scoop up the hummus and jelly with one of Relish's housemade lavash-style crackers. Owner Sharon May tinkered with many recipes to emulate the crackers she remembered from her time at Angus Barn, until she tried the same winning formula as Relish's tortilla chips, using flour tortillas cut and fried. The combo is inherently Southern yet feels a bit Asian: The hummus hits the rich savory note of a peanut satay, the jelly is a more piquant sweet-and-sour sauce, and the crackers are as crisp as fried wontons. (MN)

Saint James is a no-brainer when you have a hunger that only helpless, tender little sea creatures can fillsorry, after years of strict vegetarianism, I'm still getting used to eating fish againbut you might not suspect that the Durham seafood spot also has some ace brussels sprouts in its briny pocket, in a city where the competition is no slouch. It's good to have a warm bowl of hearty, earthy green vegetables to balance out the chilly gray slither of oysters. But Saint James's sprouts don't rest on reliability. Instead, they're sweetened with nc chm and crunched up with shallots, peanuts, and benne seeds for a refined but welcoming take on a Southern staple. ("Benne," if you're curious, means "expensive sesame.") (BH)

Margaret's Cantina and the Chelsea. Garland and CAM Raleigh. Parts & Labor and Manbites Dog Theater (RIP). Through a strange alchemy of placement and preference, certain places I go and certain places I eat sometimes become inseparable. When I go to Nightlight in Chapel Hill, I virtually always stop next door first, at The Northside District, where I always order the Buen Gusto. Unless you pay a few extra bucks for tofu, fowl, or pork, it's just a lovely plate of maduros with black beans, yellow rice, a bit of cilantro andthis is keythe house-made chili sauce, which you'll pour on the caramelized plantains, the rice and beans, the napkin, whatever, until it's gone. It's a great ballast for a wholesome night of noise music next door, served in a Rosemary Street standby I've been haunting since like five names ago (still miss you, Henry's Bistro). (BH)

In the hierarchy of salads, those with noodles are the clear winner. Extra points are awarded for salads with a hefty crunch and juicy meats.

The Bun Tom Thit Nuong salad at Saigon Grill hits every note a salad should, and a few that you might not expect. A combination of lettuce, mint, cilantro, and cucumber peak out from under tender vermicelli noodles, creating a canvas of bright, clear flavor. Slightly sweet grilled pork, lightly caramelized shrimp, and crunchy salted peanuts are tossed on top. A generous handful of lightly pickled carrots and daikon and a sprinkle of fried onions round out the dish, which easily serves two for a satisfying lunch. For the ideal eating experience, create your perfect ratio in a separate bowl and top generously with the accompanying lime wedges and chili vinegar sauce. More will be offered if you run out.

The only possible improvement is a side order of the Cha Gio Saigon, or deep-fried spring rolls, which are somehow deeply crisp and supremely light, with a filling of ground pork, carrot, and mushroom. While still bright and herbaceous, the mushroom and ground pork bring a rounder flavor. When Durham is as hot and sticky as southern Vietnam, there's nothing that makes more sense to me than this meal. (MSL)

With its craft cocktails, stepped-up bar food menu, and intimate space, Hummingbird has quickly cemented its spot as a Raleigh nighttime destination. But during the day, it transforms into an airy, sunlit café serving up avocado toast and chia pudding parfaits at breakfast and po'boys and salads at lunch. Whatever you order, don't sleep on the butterscotch sticky bun. Chef-owner Coleen Speaks worked on nailing the recipe right up until the restaurant-bar's opening last November, landing on a supremely tender yeasted dough that's drenched in a pecan and butterscotch sauce spiked with dark rum and dulce de leche. Snag one of the canary-yellow stools at the bar and pair with a cup of coffee, made with locally roasted Joe Van Gogh beans. (LKH)

Cauliflower 65 has a cult-like following at Garland. The Raleigh hotspot boasts Indian-Asian cuisine, which inspired the delicious Turmeric-yogurt sauce served with the cauliflower. The dish also features curry leaves, fresh chiles, lime, cilantro, and house-pickled chiles. If you're looking for a heartier (or at least meatier) appetizer, the cauliflower can be substituted for fried boneless chicken thighs. This option is fine, too, but unnecessary. The cauliflower stands up on its own. (RH)

At a restaurant that has been as good as Lantern for as long as Lantern, there will inevitably be dishes that are overhyped and overplayed, like a summer pop song at the end of September. It may have surprised and delighted once, but now it is simply background noise. For me, that's the salt and pepper shrimp. Luckily, there's still a dish that makes me want to dance every time I taste it: the chaat.

Like so many vegetarian options, it's easily overlooked. But this is not a placeholder. Instead, it's a chorus of intense flavors and texturescrunchy black lentils and cashews, tender roasted cauliflower and carrots topped with bright mint chutney. It's heavily seasoned with coriander and pickled red onions, with root vegetables as an anchor. The effect is a bowl of vegetables that I refuse to shareif you want some, get your own.

With so many restaurants today claiming Asian influence, it's comforting to know that Lantern can still fill diners with wonder and excitement, a reminder to look beyond the top hits of a favorite, familiar restaurant and try something new. (MSL)

My grandmother (rest her soul) always had candy in a white hobnail glass dish on her dining room table. Usually, it was something old-fashioned and beautiful that stuck together in one giant clump that, after chiseling apart, tasted like the overly sweet, artificially flavored corn syrup it was made from.

Chapel Hill Toffee is also old-fashioned and beautiful, its dark brown squares dusted with delicate pecan crumbs that resemble tree branches at the first signs of a new snow, but the taste experience is of a much higher caliber than anything Grandmother (as she insisted on being called) offered up.

The candy's decadent dark chocolate skin, applied at just the right thinness, could stand on its own, but it pairs perfectly with its buttery, slightly burnt, coffee-tinged candy center. The pecan dust on the top of each piece adds a sweet nuttiness that perfectly complements the other flavors, making it distinctly Southern. The overall flavor, appearance, and firm-meets-soft texture make it one of the best candies I've ever had.

A start-up product hatched from a secret family recipe in 2006, the blue-boxed toffee is available Triangle-wide and in more than four hundred retail locations in twenty-six states. I dare you to make a box of it last more than a day. (SS)

I was talking to a Chapel Hill native and self-styled barbecue expert (aren't they all?) when this venerable spot came up.

"You know the only thing to get there, right?" he said. "It's the cheeseburger and onion rings."

My curiosity was piqued, especially as a New York City transplant, where the famed Peter Luger Steakhouse is also noted in some circles not for its prime cuts of steak but for its humble hamburger. Like its Brooklyn brother, the Allen & Son cheeseburger is only available at lunchtime, not for takeout, and with no substitutions. You'll need a knife and fork to eat this half-pound behemoth, which will still crumble before it reaches your mouth under the weight of its fatty goodness.

The cheeseburger is an antidote to the artisanal, overwrought burger of many Instagrammy hipster restaurants, a greasy spoon classic that's more salt of the earth than farm to table. The patty is slathered with mustard, with some slaw, chili, and chopped onions applied to its undercarriage. The onion rings, a little browner than golden and big as life, master the balance of batter and actual vegetable.

Perhaps it's best that it's only available during daylight hours because it's best followed by a nap. (MN)

Beasley's Chicken + Honey is prime real estate when it comes to mouth-watering fried chicken. But there's a menu item that, by comparison, flies under the radar: the chicken pot pie. Leave it to an Ashley Christensen spot to take a classic, spin it on its head, and turn out a version that eclipses even our nostalgia-motivated devotion to the comfort foods of yore. Sorry, Grandmait's just that delicious.

Almost more like a soup than a traditional chicken pot pie filling, Beasley's choice of milk gravy is a warm, distinctively Southern rendition. While you might find pot pies across a wide variety of menus, the choice of a gravy so quintessentially Southern is just as on-brand for the elevated Southern restaurant as it is delicious.

If I had to choose this dish's pièce de résistance, however, it would be the cornmeal pastry crust. Pulling in even more influence from humble Southern roots, this crisp round of light pastry floats atop the bowl of chicken pot pie and invites you to break off a piece of its golden brown flakiness to dunk even further into the gravy. (CS)

I entertain a lot of folks from out of state. Whether they be Yankees, fellow Southerners, or Texans, they all have one thing in common: They can't wait to try some North Carolina 'cue. My go-to is Johnson Family BBQ. For a rustic, authentic experience, you can't do better than this small diner out back of a gas station down Highway 98 to Wake Forest. You'll smell the hickory long before you reach the intersection and race for a spot at the patio tables next to the giant smoker.

Ambiance aside, the real star of this show is the pig. Perfect portions of charred cracklings mingle with succulent shards of moistened pork tossed in red pepper and vinegar. There's sauce on the table, but you won't need it. They're not stingy, either. Often these out-of-towners make bug eyes at the portions but leave nary a scrap on their plate. And this baby rides alongside two sides and a pile of hush puppies. I recommend the spicy mac and cheese andif it's availablethe succotash. See if your guests don't start making up excuses to come back and visit. (EP)

Churros are the primary food option at Cocoa Cinnamon's newest location in Lakewood, which is part of the reason they're executed so perfectly. Owner Areli Barrera de Grodski wanted to make sure the churros were authentic, as close as possible to the ones she grew up eating in Mexico, with the perfect crunch and an ideal amount of sugar. They're served fresh all day, and customers can watch the process start to finish, from when the coiled dough is fried in the circular oil vat to when the churrista dips each piece into the flavored sugar of their choice. They can be made with or without sugar, with sugar flavors including cinnamon, cardamom, and orange. Highly recommended: Dip the churros into one of the rich hot chocolates. (HP)

In 1938, Harlem musicians piled into Well's Supper Club to get a bite after the nightclubs closed. Too late for dinner, too early for breakfast, the jazzmen dined on and adored Well's middle-of-the-night pairing of fried chicken and waffles.

Since then, lots of eateries have put it on their menu, but very few restaurants put any heart or care into the dish. You might as well toss frozen waffles and pretend chicken nuggets into a microwave. Then in 2010, Damion "Dame" Moore and Randy Wadsworth opened Dame's Chicken and Waffles on Main Street in Durham, and the Triangle discovered what the fuss was all about. The guys offer 105 possible chicken and waffle combos, including vegan options.

The Classy Hen is the perfect gateway plate. It's a chicken cutlet (no bones to stress over), a classic waffle, and vanilla-almond schmear. You might think this plate is dull, but you'd be wrong. This is the edible equivalent of a Chanel suitperfect timeless elegance. You get a side, and the macaroni and cheese will probably be the best you've ever eaten.

A word to the wisemake reservations. (DM)

In the decidedly unglamorous shopping complex at the intersection of Club and Roxboro that houses Compare Foods and a long-defunct movie theater sits a little Mexican bakery that you wouldn't know was there unless you were looking for it. But you should very much go looking for Panaderia Puhuatlan. The fresh-baked bread and desserts, from the tres leches cake to the pastries, are sublimesome of the best in the area.

But what you really need, especially if you're planning taco night at home, is to head to the counter and ask for the corn tortillas. They'll come out a second later piping hot and wrapped in white papercheap, too, at two pounds for three bucksso fresh and inviting they almost demand to be devoured on site. But don't do that. Instead, drive right home and get on your taco prep. No matter what you're making, the rich flavor of the warm tortillas will only make your meal better. (JCB)

Pepper's is a bright, modern looking deli in a new shopping center in Morrisville. It doesn't look like the kind of place that even knows what corned beef is, let alone serves a version that could win blue ribbons.

Pepper's slow roasts the brisket in-house and uses it to make a succulent Reuben, which is great. But if you're very, very lucky, you'll be there at brunch for corned beef Benedict. They replace the English muffin with a couple slices of rye bread. Then they lay on the corned beef, cover it with perfectly poached eggs, and drown the whole thing with lemony, sunny Hollandaise. It's too much, but isn't that what brunch is?

It's on the menu in the cooler months, so unless you can convince them otherwise, you'll have to wait a little while to indulge. (DM)

When chef Phoebe Lawless's Scratch closed its downtown space earlier this year, Durhamites mourned, wondering where they would get their buttermilk donut muffins on Saturday mornings. Thankfully, there was Baby Scratch in Lakewood to help ease the painif you were willing to make the short drive. The new location wouldn't offer the full breakfast and brunch service of its namesake, but it would still feature Lawless's famous baked goods, a culinary achievement in their own right.

It is difficult to pick poorly at Baby Scratch. The donut muffins are, of course, a classic. A slice of pie always proves delicious. And the rotation of savory crostatas never disappoints. But the real star of the show is the dark chocolate crostata with sea salt.

To get a dark chocolate crostata right, you have to (a) make impeccable pastry dough, (b) make the perfect fudgy brownie, and (c) have a strong sense of flavor in order to avoid making a baked good too cloying to eat. It's a difficult balance, but if done right it makes for a dessert that satisfies any connoisseur of sweets. And around here, no one does it as right as Lawless and company. (KJF)

My friend Tim recently returned to Durham after six months away at college. Before reuniting with his friends, or even dropping his bags off at home, he headed to Cosmic Cantina to get a burrito. Tim isn't an anomaly; another one of my friends asked her parents to bring her a burrito when they drove up to visit her in Virginia, and when I returned to school out of state after winter break, I brought three burritos in my suitcase, eating them over the course of a week and dreading the next few months that I would have endure Cosmic-free. Cosmic's burritos are modest and magical, a classic combination of meat, rice, beans, cheese, and salsa (plus guac and sour cream if you order it deluxe, which you should) enveloped in a paper-thin tortilla. The fact that there's nothing fancy about them is exactly what makes them so good; in a world of "sushirritos" and burritos stuffed with French fries, Cosmic's product is refreshingly simple. When you try it, you'll understand why my friends and I go through withdrawals at college. (LG)

There's an old Hank Williams tune called "Dixie Cannonball," but while eating lucettegrace's Dixie Cannonball, the song running through my head is instead a 1950s gospel tune from the Soul Stirrers, "Jesus Hits Like the Atom Bomb."

That's how your taste buds will react to this breakfast-y treat that's as perfect for a 3:00 p.m. boost as it is for a morning kick start. A delicate, muffin-shaped smoked cheddar and scallion biscuit is by itself the stuff of dreams. Take a bite, and BOOMyou discover lurking in the biscuit's hollow interior bits of locally produced sausage and a generous dollop of sausage gravy. Have napkins handy because the gravy will begin oozing out at the first opening. Of course, the Dixie Cannonball is delectable enough that you'll be tempted to wolf it down so quickly the gravy has no time to escape. Show some restraint though, and give your palate time to appreciate the swirl of flavors and the loveliness of the biscuit.

Everywhere you look these days, places are offering variations of breakfast meals in portable, one-handed styles, from breakfast sandwiches to breakfast wraps. The Dixie Cannonball is the most elegant form of that concept that you'll find anywhere. (CF)

Pizzeria Mercato's menu is known for exactly what you'd expect: pizza. And the pizza is fantasticaward-winning, in fact. What you might not know, however, is that Mercato has an absolutely sublime dessert menu featuring a confection that's worth a trip in and of itself. The double chocolate budino, a decadent take on the classic Italian pudding-like dessert, is the perfect finish (or a meal in its own right). It's certainly rich enough to have earned the moniker of double chocolate, yet it's light enough to melt as soon as it hits your tongue.

While the chocolate flavor could stand wholly on its own, there's a beautiful addition of caramel and whipped cream to polish the dish and add balance. What's particularly delightful is the crisp crackle of the chocolate crumble and salt flakes over top of the budino, which add contrast that the soft, sweet elements definitely need.

From top to bottomliterallythis dessert is delicious. At the bottom of the glass cup it's served in, there's a crumbly chocolate crust that I prefer to scoop out and eat before anyone I'm sharing with can do the same. (CS)

City Market's Dragon Tuna might raise eyebrows as its description is first read: soft shell crab sushi topped with fish and fruit. Weird, right? What makes this roll a winner, though, is that exact combination. Creamy avocado and crunchy, panko-coated soft shell crab are pleasing enough on their own, although not groundbreaking. Adding soy paper, sweet ponzu, and tobiko punches up the creativity. However, the choice to pair dragon fruit with cubes of fresh tuna as a topping is particularly smart, as the fruit emphasizes the flavor of the tuna. While the subtleties of tuna can sometimes be muddled with the addition of other, more assertive ingredients, the dragon fruit (which has a bit of a soft kiwi flavor) is mild enough to let the tuna shine.

To say this dish is merely pretty would do it an injustice; it's beautiful and visually vibrant, with its contrasting colors and the unusual appearance of the dragon fruit. But ultimately, the playful mix of sweet and savory makes it a star. (CS)

At True Flavors Diner, every meal feels incredibly haute and homey, with beautiful presentation and uber-generous portions. It's difficult to go wrong, but veer toward the Southern classics: shrimp and four-cheese grits, chipotle honey glazed fried chicken and buttermilk waffles, biscuits and gravy.

Above them all, though, the duck hash shines with its combination of sweet red peppers, luscious white cheddar, and soft, gamey duck. Served in a cast iron skillet with two fried eggs and buttermilk biscuits, the meal is exorbitantly rich and flavorful, the perfect prelude to a relaxing weekend afternoon. (KJF)

If you've tired of the now-ubiquitous chicken and waffles, try this twist at BCBG. You get a generous serving of duck meat atop Belgian waffles with a house-made blueberry compote. The duck sports a pleasing sear that traps the duck fat, which essentially melts and laces each bite with flavor. The waffles are well-crafted, with a satisfying crunchiness on the outside surrounding the fluffy interior. The dish is only available on the weekend brunch menu, served Saturdays and Sundays from 10:00 a.m.–3:00 p.m. (CF)

When Kristen Benkendorfer started her business from her home, the focus was on Bundt cakes of all sizes and flavors. Dull, they were not. Those Bundts weren't the last cakes picked for kickball; they were first-string all the way. In 2016, Big Bundts moved into its current location on Broad Street in Durham. Last year, it dropped the smaller sized Bundts and introduced cake ballsfreshly baked cakes of various flavors, mixed with frosting, formed into balls, filled with buttercream, coated with white or dark chocolate, and garnished.

Big Bundts has a regular cast of six flavors, including birthday cake, red velvet, peanut butter cookie dough, and a rotating cast of seasonal guest stars. But the best of the bunch, and not just because of the name, are the Durham Bull Balls, chocolate sour cream cake formed into golf ball-sized spheres of joy. They're filled with Belgian chocolate buttercream, covered with dark chocolate, and decorated with a cobalt blue drizzle. The cake is shockingly moist with a chocolate so dark it absorbs surrounding light. The buttercream is luscious and tastes like lightly sweetened chocolate butter. The outer shell cracks like the top of a crème brulee when you bite into it.

If all of that wasn't tempting enough, they're sized perfectly for one, so you never have to share. (DM)

Every time I walk into Med Deli, I start to panic because I want to try every side, entrée, and dessert eyeing me behind the glass deli case. But since that's not an option, don't miss the classic falafel pita topped with hummus and maybe a dash of couscous. The falafel at Med Deli is just good math, the sum of many good parts. The falafel is dense, but moist, with a slightly crisp outer layer, while the veggies are fresh and the pita is soft and supportive. (HP)

Once upon a time, when I was still new to the culinary landscape of Raleigh, I had no idea Tuscan Blu existed. Then came Triangle Restaurant Week. One happy night that week, I had my first experience with Tuscan Blu's fiocchi, a dish that's made this Italian restaurant one of the most consistent spots on my ever-changing list of recommendations.

Cinched pasta purses are stuffed with sweet pear and soft mascarpone cheese, then liberally dressed with a flavorful pink tomato-cream sauce. It isn't overly complicated, nor is it highly conceptual. What it is, however, is incredibly delicious. The creaminess of the cheese complements the firm, slightly grainy texture of the pear. Pear can sometimes take on a mealy texture, but here it never does; even when the grain of the pear is slightly more pronounced, the cheese tempers it. The tomato-cream sauce adds a slight acidity that brightens the whole plate. (CS)

It's a tall order, but El Centro's fiery fish tacos may satisfy even the most jaded Californian (me). All the tacos on the popular Mexican restaurant's menu are crowd-pleasersespecially the carnitas and los carlos, filled with grass-fed steakbut my vote goes to the spicy pescado tacos, a catch of the day fried up and topped with sweet fruit, red cabbage, spicy cilantro mayo, and pico de gallo. The fish, salty and battered to perfection, pairs perfectly with the spicy mayo and sweet fruit and cabbage. Served on double corn tortillas with cilantro rice and refried beans, it's a satisfying and reasonably priced treat (for lunch, the tacos are $9). The other taco choices on the menu are delicious, toofor vegetarians, there's an option with mushrooms, poblanos, red bell peppers, spinach, onions, and creamy tomatillo sauce; for the diehard Southerner, there's a fried chicken taco with ranch, red cabbage, and jalapeños. Consider adding a side of crispy tortilla chips, salsa, and fresh guacamole or queso. Your mouth won't regret it. (EH)

Just as a plain cheese slice is a pizzeria's benchmark, a scoop of vanilla is an ice cream shop's yardstick. Though you'll no doubt be tempted by the roster of inventive flavors at Andia's (like baklava and rose pistachio), don't miss the French vanilla. There's nothing plain Jane about it. It's got a buttery mouthfeel, owing to the ice cream base's quality milkowner Andia Xouris sampled milk from ten different dairies before finalizing her supplierand a 14 percent butterfat content. The rich, pronounced vanilla flavor comes from using top-notch ingredients like Madagascar bourbon vanilla extract, made from Madagascar vanilla beans, aka the Cadillac of vanilla beans. The French vanilla is a local fan favorite, and even won national acclaim after placing second at the National Ice Cream Retailers Association awardsyou didn't know that was a thing, did you?a sought-after prize among national ice cream shop owners. (LKH)

As any State Fair attendee can attest, there's one consistent answer to how to make a good thing betterfry the sumbitch. The epitome of this axiom would be the fried pimento mac-n-cheese bites found at Mason Jar Tavern in Holly Springs. Don't expect a bowl of macaroni covered in cheese. In fact, you may initially wonder where the mac or cheese can be found the first time you see it. The appetizer arrives with five hefty fried rounds, each the size of a generously proportioned hush puppy, nestled in marinara sauce on the plate. There's no visible cheese or macaroni. All it takes, though, is one bite into the delicately crispy orbs to discover the pimento, the macaroni, and ah-inducing goodness. It may be a guilty pleasure, but it is most definitely a pleasure. (CF)

I may have trust issues. There are menu items I won't order from just any restaurant. I would never order lobster from a diner. As much as I love steak tartare, I'd only dare request it after I've personally met the chef and watched him wash his hands.

This caution extends, of course, to oysters. Color me leery when it comes to that briny bivalve, perhaps due to a case of once bitten, twice shy. However, the Triangle seems suddenly flush with top-notch seafood joints as of late, and one of the advantages of this boon is an influx of great oyster houses.

Place St. Roch's at the top of that pyramid. Bubbling with New Orleans attitude, this hip spot in the former Joule coffeehouse location is a one-stop shop for all things oyster. Each night, executive chef Sunny Gerhart offers from a selection of five or so fresh raw oysters, as well as three roasted options. However, the star of this show is the Fried Oyster and Oat Hotcake. Originally offered as a rotating feature, this bad boy quickly muscled its way to a spot on the everyday menu. It's since become a mainstay.

Think a Cajun-inspired take on fried chicken and waffles: Plump bivalves crusted in crisp cornmeal then lightly fried and served atop an oat hotcake inside a mini cast iron skillet. Add a cruet of chile-spiked cane syrup, and you'll perform your best (or worst) Justin Wilson impression, I guar-RON-tee. (EP)

The raw North Carolina oysters and ceviches get top billing at The Cortez, and with good reason, so it'd be easy to skip over the humble-sounding gambas al ajillo, or garlic shrimp. But it's the menu's dark horse, and one of chef Oscar Diaz's favorites. Diaz starts with large shrimp, lops off the heads, and butterflies them in an unusual way, leaving the shell on but cutting them down the middle so that the sauce can still flavor the flesh within. The shrimp is simply seasoned with salt, pepper, and paprika, seared in a pan, and cooked with nothing more than garlic, lemon, and butter. The shell-on factor makes the shrimp messy to eat, but the payoff is worth it: The shrimp's briny sweetness is offset by the glossy, garlicky sauce, and the remaining pool begs to be sopped up by the accompanying slices of Yellow Dog baguette, toasted to the point at which they're flirting with being burnt. The airy crumb and shatter-ready crust makes it perfect for mopping, so order a side of Bread and Weed Butter to have extra on hand. (LKH)

Everything about this sandwich goes big: big, toasty sesame hoagie roll you have to crunch down to bite (except for you, big mouth); big, thick dials of cucumber and tomato riding big, round blimps of deep-fried chickpeas; big, squiggly squirts of tahini and green sauce that will inevitably spatter the basket like crime-scene evidence after you somehow go beast mode on this entire eight-inch torpedo before you even realize what's happened. Falafel by any other name, it turns out, would also taste as sweet. But does anyone want this pickle spear? I'm full. (BH)

As a French onion soup loyalist, I came to Royale's garlic soup with a very skeptical eye. Ordering it jolted me out of the monotony of my one-soup French bistro routine. Royale's garlic soup is rich, velvety, and brimming with garlic. If you're not a fan of the pungent little clove, you probably won't like this much. It is a lot of garlic (one quart of it, to be precise), but that's precisely what makes it so good. On its own, it would be way too overpowering, but a hearty dose of milk and cream help round out the flavor, leaving your tongue swimming in a smooth garlic wonderland. Pros: Warding off the vampires that prowl in Moore Square. Cons: Don't try this on a first date. (EH)

It's entirely appropriate that hot dogs started life as the signature sausage of Frankfurt, Germany, because the hot dog, crinkle fries, and pink lemonade combo at The Dog House is the greatest example of edible gestalt known to man.

Contemplate the dog: steamed, not grilled, as only the very finest tube steaks are. A first-bite snap that sounds like the crack of a bat on a cloudless June afternoon. The soft bun is painted with spicy brown mustard that treads the razor-thin line between spicy and burn-y. On top is a generous amount of puckeringly briny sauerkraut. It costs extra, but a sprinkling of chopped onion adds crunch and a funky allium bite.

The Dog House crinkle fries are the very best ambassador for potatoes of their ilk, so fresh that they make the trip home with both heat and crispiness intact. As dunkage, I highly recommend the unexpected condiment of mayo (the result of a childhood friendship with a pair of Dutch sisters). And the fountain pink lemonade recalls childhood picnics. It's sweet, but not too, and sour, but not too.

The women behind the counter remind me of the Southern grandmother I never had, and always call me "Shug." While you wait for your order, your fellow customers are a parade of humanity that will frighten, amuse, depress, and delight you, but they will never, ever bore. (DM)

You expect a diner menu to lean heavily on the comfort-food classics, and you'll find them in spades at Jack Tar: pancakes, fried chicken, biscuits and gravy, pie à la mode. But the next time it's cold or rainy or you're just in need of something warm and comforting, order Gray's Mom's Lamb Spaghetti.

The inspiration came from owner Gray Brooks's grandmother, a Durham native who learned to cook from her Cretan husband. Brooks's mother grew up eating this kind of Southern-Greek symbiosis. When it came to feeding her family, she channeled her mother's braised lamb with tomatoes into a baked spaghetti dish. It became a dinner staple, and the Jack Tar version is pretty faithful to the working-class variety, though the original grocery-store mozzarella has been upgraded to Italian buffalo milk ricotta and the lamb comes from a family farm in Colorado. It's served in a small baking dish, well dusted with melty cheese.

The combination of braised lamb and creamy ricotta could be overwhelming, but the proportions are spot on, just enough to satisfy and perhaps leave room for a plate of warm cruller doughnuts. (MN)

The menu at Alpaca is straightforward. Do you want a quarter-chicken, a half-chicken, or a whole chicken? It's often the case that the smaller the menu, the better the food, and that's the case with Alpaca. Every time I goand it's right around the corner, so fairly oftenthe chicken is perfectly roasted, with slightly crispy skin and tender meat. But even if the chicken was trash, which it's not, the complementary dipping sauces could make anything taste good. I recommend the half-chicken with sides of maduros and rice and black beans and a copious amount of the spicy green sauce. (HP)

These burritos went through quite a journey to get into that six-pack "adult happy meal" every Sunday afternoon at the Accordion Club.

First, co-owners Talitha Benjamin, a New Mexico native, and her husband, Scott Ritchie, flew over a whole bunch of Hatch chiles straight from Santa Fe. Then, she and her siblings bickered over the correct way to prepare green chile stew. Once that was settled, her brother Aaron Benjamin, the Gocciolina chef-owner, began preparing batches in his restaurant kitchen, later setting aside portions for burritos. Finally, the burritos are prepared, wrapped, and presented at the bar in a six-pack, along with a tiny Miller High Life, a shot of tequila, a chile back shot as chaser, and a toy, promising to cure any hangover you may have had.

The green chile stew at Accordion is worth a try on its own, but for some, it may prove too spicy. The green chile on the veggie breakfast burritos, however, is tempered by its supporting ingredients of a farm egg, cheese, roasted potatoes, sautéed onions and poblanos, and lime crema. Equally delicious are the adovada breakfast burritos, made with local pork braised with Hatch red chile. The burritos are delivered to Accordion every Sunday around 12:30 p.m. and are available until sold out, which is usually a couple of hours later. (HP)

There are many things about summer in the Triangle I don't likethe punishing heat and unrelenting humidity, for starters, and the waves of ticks and mosquitoes and other horrible little pests that are so abundant on any outdoor excursion. There is one thing about this season I look forward to, however: the summer menu at Monuts, and the return of several wonderful breakfast plates made with chevre.

There's the Like a Hash, a mess of fried tomatoes, spinach, a delectable sweet basil pesto, eggs, and soft chevre. There's the Spicy Tomato and Avocado sandwich, which puts those two things plus chevre, spicy peach jam, pea shoots, and sea salt in between two slices of focaccia bread. My favorite, though, is the Heirloom Summer, which combines chevre with Monuts' excellent bagels and the year's heirloom tomato harvest. It's an open-faced bagel (go with the salted bagel), smeared with chevre cream cheese, and topped with heirloom tomatoes and, if you want, eggs (recommendation: over easy). The sweet basil pesto comes on the side.

Monuts switches out its menus with the seasons, so this chevre bounty won't be around forever. A word of advice: If you're going on a weekend, get there early. It gets crowded fast. (JCB)

If you've ever wondered what a happy cow looks like, there's a whole bunch of them at Chapel Hill Creamery.

Deep in the most rustic, out of the way part of Chapel Hill, you'll find the Hickory Grove Church. And beyond that, down a side road, is a collection of trim buildings among green pastures. That is Chapel Hill Creamery. What Disneyland is to human children, the creamery is to cows. They are protected, loved, and spoiled. And all the milk produced at this bovine bed and breakfast goes to make award-winning cheeses. This is kind of place where each cow has a name and a human friend who looks out for it. And believe it or not, you can taste this environment in every bite of every cheese.

There is the impulse to liken these cheeses to familiar types: cheddar, brie, gruyere, and so on. But that impulse is incorrect. Though they may be hard or soft or melty, the creamery's cheeses are solely its own and a wannabe of none.

It's hard to pick one favorite, but the Hickory Grove makes the most banging patty melt ever devised by man. It's melty, salty, and tastes a little bit like grass, fresh air, and sunshine. (DM)

I've never eaten real poutine, so I don't have a baseline understanding of the iconic Canadian fries/gravy/cheese curd concoction. I'm also generally turned off by things being labeled "hipster." Nevertheless, I will swear by Motorco's hipster poutine, especially late at night, and especially after drinking. The fries are piled high and topped with generous helpings of caramelized kimchi, bulgogi beef, cheddar, sriracha mayo, green onions, and cilantro. (For vegetarians, the Canuck Poutine, with mushroom gravy and cheese curds, is a good option as well.)

It kind of feels like a drunk person with access to a Korean kitchen invented this dishwho's to say that wasn't the case?but whoever did it did a truly masterful job. Canadians would probably scoff, and hipsters would probably be offended that sriracha mayo is still associated with them, but the fries are always hot and fresh, and the salty/spicy/cheesy combination of toppings here is perfect and just made to pair with beer. And though there are other "large pile of fries with sauces and toppings" dishes to be had around town (e.g., the Pile at Geer Street Garden or the loaded fries at Bull McCabe's), they pale in comparison, leaving you longing for that caramelized kimchi. And bless Motorco for keeping its kitchen open until 2:00 a.m. on the weekendsthe Hipster Poutine's time to shine. (IW)

Pincho Loco is serving up a milkshake you'd be hard-pressed to find even on Cook Out's tome of a menu. They substitute milk with their own horchata, a sweet Mexican drink made with rice and cinnamon, adding a beautiful depth that will make you question ever going back to a standard vanilla shake. It's the perfect indulgence for a humid summer day, though the hint of cinnamon imparts a warmness that makes it apt to enjoy in the colder months as well. (LG)

When I first moved to North Carolina, one thing that struck me was the inordinate number of hot dog joints dotting the landscape. These people take their hot dogs seriously, I thought. Nowhere is that truer than at Roast Grill. The menu options are few. No cheese. No kraut. No mayo. No pickles. No relish. And, for the love of all things holy, no goddamn ketchup. Go ahead, ask. If George Poniros, who mans the grill and tends the pot of chili made with a decades-old family recipe, yells at you, you have no one to blame but yourself. Such accoutrements are an affront. And don't expect sides like chips or fries either. Instead, squeeze in the tiny space that, since 1940, has served college students, governors, state legislators, and Man Vs. Food's Adam Richman, and ask George for a burnt one all the way. Wash it down with a Coke before topping it off with a scrumptious slice of homemade pound cake. Then, and only then, can you truly consider yourself a local. (CF)

Come for the freshly-caught-that-morning drum, mullet, or bass that comes out piping hot and melts in your mouth, stay for chef Ricky Moore's famous hush honeys, which he's trademarked with good reason. These fried-cornmeal nuggets of dough come drizzled with spiced local honey, completely changing your perception of what a hush puppy canand shouldtaste like.

Moore grew up eating hush puppies, and says the idea to bring a sweetness to them came from his love of Italian zeppole, fried balls of dough dusted with powdered sugar. The crispy outside, the soft and steaming inside, and the sticky sweetness of the honey that pools at the bottom of the plate make them perfect on their own, but the flavors are also an excellent complement to the tangy slaw and spiced fish that are Saltbox's hallmark.

The best part is that a solo order of hush honeyssay, paired with a side of fried broccoli or brussels sproutscan stand as a lunch on its own, meaning that you can skip the long wait for a fish plate, especially at the original, tiny Mangum Street location.

They say hush puppies get their name because hunters would give them to their dogs to keep them quiet. While a hush might fall over the picnic table at Saltbox as people dig into their hush honeys, the name seems like a misnomer. Everyone I know who's eaten them can't shut up about them afterward. (IW)

Pokébasically deconstructed sushi bowlshas been a raging trend the past few years, and you can find some of the Triangle's best at the DTR hangout Raleigh Raw. If you're new to the poké game, or just want a go-to classic, do the Hustle (sorry). Start with a base of either rice or micro greens and then pile on the toppings: chive, dragon fruit, jalapeño, pistachio dust, sesame asparagus, seaweed salad, shallot, and chef's mix microgreens. Pair the bowl with fresh tuna, which complements the sweetness of the dragon fruit. Top your bowl with a tangy house sauce and spicy mayo, and then snap a pic of your aesthetically appealing (and healthy) lunch. (RH)

It's often said that when your preferred deity closes a door, she opens a window. There is no better proof of this adage at play in downtown Durham than Rose's Noodles, Dumplings, and Sweets. This tiny twenty-five seat restaurant was once home to Rose's Sweet and Meat Shop, a whole-animal butchery and bakery that sadly stopped service last year in order to retool, rebrand, and return as its present incarnation. While the sampling of sausages may have been replaced by tasty ramen dishes and dumplings, owners Justin and Katie Meddis didn't dare tinker with the true recipe for their success: those amazing ice cream sandwiches.

What at first may seem like a Mad Lib pairings of flavor (white miso gingersnap?) turns out to be the most unique and innovative journeys across your pleasure palate. One offered sampling featured lemon-blueberry-buttermilk ice cream on gingerbread, ingredients that paired together like Texas and chainsaw massacres. These savory confections are available both at breakfast and lunch, as well as for carry-out, which make them the perfect treat for that long walk back to your parking space after a big bowl of ramen, giving them plenty of time to thaw to the perfect consistency. Be sure to save room! (EP)

There are two types of people in the world: meat lovers and carb lovers. I am a carb lover who hangs out with meat lovers, and as a result, I have had to figure out what to order at Al's Burger Shack, the home base for meat lovers across the Triangle. In fact, TripAdvisor recently declared Al's Bobo Chili Cheeseburger the best burger in the United States.

It's no secret that the meat is the backbone of the menu. It's also no secret that the topping combinations that Al and his customers cook up are all exceptional. For the bread-and-potato obsessed among us, it might be a secret that if you ask nicely, Al's will top your fries with whatever burger toppings you request. Specifically, you should ask for the Kenny J toppings.

I have come to refer to these simply as Kenny J fries, which the good people of Al's have come to acknowledge as a somewhat actual thing. For the unfamiliar, the Kenny J burger has pimiento cheese, bacon, and Cheerwine barbecue sauce. Served on crinkle cut rosemary fries with a squirt of Sriracha, this thing is good enough to convince even the staunchest carnivore to carb it up. (MSL)

David Simon, the television writer behind The Wire, once said in an episode of David Chang's Ugly Delicious that "of all the animals that you could consume, a chicken seems like it was brought into the world to be eaten. I've never put chicken into my mouth and said, 'This was a leap.'"

The Korean fried chicken wings at M KokkoM Sushi chef-owner Mike Lee's other, newer restaurantbuttresses his case. The spicy sauce is good, but the garlic soy glaze is better. No one element of the sauce overpowers the other, making for a savory, sweet, even tangy taste in your mouth. By themselves, the wings make for a satiating meal, but they also are the perfect accomplice to any other dish on the menu. I prefer to pair them with the Jjiajang Men noodles with black bean sauce.

Eat with your hands. It's not often that you get to go to a fine-dining establishment and lick your fingers, so revel in it. (KJF)

Since it opened last year, Goorsha has been committed to traditional Ethiopian fare: The in-house injera has the perfect tang and buoyancy for sopping up kik alecha, the doro wot is as spicy as it should be, and the gomen could compete with the best of the South's collard greens. This is good, hearty home cooking. But certain dishes on the menu not only capture the spirit of Mom's cooking but also one of culinary excitementequal parts comfort and surprise.

The kitfo appetizer exemplifies this dynamism. Kitfo, a special-occasion meal in Ethiopia, is a finely minced steak tartare marinated in a spice blend, served with gomen and ayeb (a mild cheese, close in texture to cottage cheese). At Goorsha, it's served on small discs of injera, propped up to look like a folded taco. While most of the menu is eaten with pinches of injera, the kitfo appetizer is meant to be eaten in a few precarious, generous chomps. It manages to make you feel like you are eating something incredibly special and incredibly casual at the same time. And, in doing so, it captures just what makes eating at Goorsha such a treat. (KJF)

More and more, Wonderpuff has been popping up at events around the Triangle, immediately transporting everyone in its path to a place of childlike wonderwonder at how sugar is spun into cotton before their eyes, wonder at how such a miracle is made more whimsical with the addition of edible sparkles, wonder at how unexpected flavors such as lavender and cardamom taste so right as they melt into nothingness on your tongue with the bittersweet tinge of ephemeral summer.

Wonderpuff is run by a Raleigh couple who recently made the business a full-time operation. You can find their space-age-style cart at various events around the area, or in your living room if you choose to book them for a party all your own. (HP)

If someone says "bar food," my mind leaps not to nuts or mozzarella sticks, but straight to bacon. The smell of bacon at eight in the morning is universally beloved; the smell of bacon at one in the morning, however, can be even more enjoyable.

Tucked away on the menu of a place more renowned for a record-breaking number of beer taps, RBG's maple bourbon bacon doesn't get enough attention. Maybe I'm biased, as I routinely dredge bacon in maple syrup anyway, but these strips of crunchy-chewy perfection are the best accompaniment to whichever pint you might choose to quaff. The rich, strong flavor of thick-cut bacon, which is sourced from Cheshire Pork in North Carolina, is the perfect tie to bind together the sweetness of brown sugar and maple with the smokiness of bourbon.

This bacon is a perfect example of bar food done right: sticky, caramelized strips that are imaginative enough to pique your interest but without fussiness or being overly difficult to eat. At worst, you'll suffer from sticky fingers, but it's worth the inconvenience. (CS)

When you walk into this traditional bakery, which sells both bread and desserts, it smells old-fashioned, like a bakery in a Frank Capra movie. An entire case is taken up with pastel-colored meringues, each the size of a baby's head. Meringues are exactly what their name implies; beaten egg whites that are sweetened, piped onto baking sheets, and very slowly baked until they are as crispy and enticing as a giant Lucky Charms marshmallow.

The thing is, meringues are simple, but they sure aren't easy. Mix them too little, and they won't hold their shape. Mix them too much, and they get grainy or collapse. Cook them too long, and they turn brown. Undercook them, and they're chewy in the center. Store them badly and they get soggy.

But done right, they're addictive. At La Castellena, they don't know how to do it any other way. (DM)

Poole's Diner's Macaroni Au Gratin is arguably one of Raleigh's most iconic dishes, and whether you're a City of Oaks native, a Triangle newbie, or a tourist, few can resist ordering the baked macaroni and cheese dish at chef extraordinaire Ashley Christensen's acclaimed eatery. Even lactose-intolerant diners have been known to give in to its hypnotic powers.

The made-to-order mac features al dente elbow macaroni tossed in a silky three-cheese sauceincluding Jarlsberg, Grana Padano, and sharp white Vermont cheddarthat's heaped into a gratin dish with more cheese, and broiled until the cheese forms a crisp topping. It's a sight to behold. Even if you've never heard of the dish before dining at Poole's, you'd be clued in as order after order of the mounded mac, complete with a serving spoon jutting up from its center, passes your table. It's not cheapat $14, it's likely one of the most expensive side dishes aroundbut if you don't feel like sharing, make it your entrée, and it's a relative bargain. (LKH)

We ran into Sassool at the Shoppes at Kildaire in Cary so my kid could grab a quick bite before hitting Trader Joe's. I wasn't even planning to eat. But it smelled really good in there, I hadn't eaten all day, and there was delicious-looking food all over the place. Minutes after entering, I was already twice as hungry as I was when we walked in.

I stopped fighting it and succumbed to both my appetite and the menu. After giving it a quick scan, I chose the mushroom and onion pie.

I thought it would be a quiche; it wasn't. It was pita dough covered with amber caramelized onion, mushrooms, garlic whip (whatever that is, I want more), a three-cheese blend, and sesame seeds. Tons of cheese, but not too much. The onions were savory and crispy in spots, and there were just enough mushrooms. It looked like a pizza, but it was smoky pita dough. And there was no red sauce underneath to overpower the whole thing.

I also thought I'd only have one slice, but I ate three, and regretted that fourth and final piece I gave my child. (DM)

Until earlier this year, The Fed's Nachos cost fifteen bucks and could easily feed a small army. They were massive, a gob-smacking pile of chips and cheese and sour cream. Way too much for any one human to handle, especially if you planned on eating anything else, either there or for the next several days.

So the bar and restaurant dropped the price and the portion size: $9, and something reasonably approaching what two people can handle. They are, however, no less delicious, and pair just as well with one of The Fed's cocktails or rotating crop of craft brews: corn tortilla chips, healthy dollops of sour cream, pico de gallo, jalapeños, refried beans, all smothered in cheddar cheese (you can add chicken, pork, or guac if you like for $3). It's nothing fancy, no innovative twist or unusual ingredient. Just straight-ahead bar foodwonderful for your mouth and terrible for your gutand lots of it. (JCB)

At 18 Seaboard, chef-owner Jason Smith has earned a loyal following for his modern takes on Southern cuisine crafted with fastidiously sourced ingredients. While I've got nothing but love for the main dining room, these days the action is at the bar. The roster of bar snacks fuses fine-dining flair with chef de cuisine Jake Wood's creative flavor combinations, including a gild-the-lily treat called N.C. Core Sounders with Pimiento and Prosciutto. Core Soundersplump, super briny oysters from Jarrett Bayare shucked to order, dolloped with house-made pimento cheese (based on Wood's great-grandma Vena's recipe) and brûléed till melted, then topped with gossamer-thin slices of Prosciutto Maestri and drizzled with a Louisiana hot sauce-laced cane sugar syrup. The oysters are plated atop a bed of crushed ice and sprinkled with garlic sea salt and puffed farro piccolo, as addictive a garnish as I've seen in a long time. (LKH)

With a chef and owner like Mike Lee, it is wise to order anything on the M Sushi menu with the words "chef's choice" or "omakase" written next to it. His vast knowledge of sushi and extreme attention to detail, including personally inspecting all fresh fish deliveries, means he knows best what you want. The nigiri at M Sushi may include anything from yellowtail belly to amberjack from Hawaii to salmon belly, and every piece is expertly sliced and served atop perfectly prepared rice. (HP)

I've always got an eye out for the big purple truck branded with Buoy Bowls's signature slogan, "It's AH-SIGH-EE, y'all!"

Happily, your experience at the vibrant truck gets even better once an Instagram-worthy bowl of bright purple açaí topped with organic hemp granola, fresh fruit, and raw honey is actually in your hand. The O.G. is the first item on the menu for good reason: It's the best option to ease yourself into both the vibrant flavor of those blue-purple berries and, more important, the brisk, amplified energy charge that happens once you tuck into your first bowl.

It's almost like a smoothie said, "Hey, what if I was served in a bowl instead?" Somehow it's better, though, getting to experience the icy texture of a smoothie combined with the almost nutty crunch of granola, the fresh burst of strawberry, the creaminess of sliced banana, and (my favorite part) the sticky-sweet globs of raw honey drizzled over top, which tie everything together. It's a special treat that I never feel guilty about eating, even though it fulfills the cravings of an active sweet tooth. (CS)

As you settle into a booth at Salt & Lime Cabo Grill, you'll no doubt want to pair your margarita with some chips and salsa while you peruse the rest of the Baja-inspired menu. But what to choose from the dizzying array of options? Easy: the Orange Habanero Salsa. It packs a powerful punch, so it's not for the heat-averse, but if you like spice, it's got an addictive hurts-so-good quality. Salt & Lime likes to play with sweet-and-spicy flavor combinations, so the habaneros' heat is tempered by blending it with mango.

It's a great match for the tacos, like the BBQ mahi-mahi or beer-battered fish, and if you've got any leftover salsa, bring it home to drizzle on breakfast tacos the next morning. The fiery orange salsa is a cult favorite among the staff, too, and the owners hope to start bottling the spicy elixir soon. (LKH)

My family moved to Puerto Rico when I was nine, and lived there three years. The beaches were awesome. The small base we lived in was like Mayberry with palm trees. But the best thing was the food.

Cuban food is similar. Both cultures revere pork, and do the most delicious things with it. The biggest difference between Puerto Rican food and Cuban food is bean color. Puerto Ricans use pink beans. Cubans go for black. Carmen's Café in Morrisville has a menu loaded with authentic Cuban dishes. And out of all the delicious choices, my favorite dish is papas rellenas.

Papas rellenas sound like lunacy: balls the size of navel oranges made from mashed potato, stuffed with spiced hamburger, then breaded and fried. Each element is perfectly executed; the potatoes are fluffy, the spice in the meat is garlicky and herby. The outer shell is crispy without a trace of greasiness. These things are flat-out delicious and so comforting that eating them feels like a hug from a teddy bear wearing flannel pajamas. (DM)

Drawing inspiration from his years of work improving global food systems in Latin America, chef Shawn Stokes knocks it out of the park with the patacon pisao, a Venezuelan-style sandwich stuffed with your choice of slow-roasted, juicy rotisserie meat (the chili-braised brisket is particularly excellent) or jackfruit, jicama kale slaw, chili-lime mayo, and cheese. But the most exciting part is that, in lieu of bread, the filling comes sandwiched between two plantain discs. Like tostones, these discs are made from green plantains that are fried, smashed, and then fried a second time. This creates a surprisingly solid vehicle for all the meat and cheese insideslightly crispy, a little nutty, and overall delicious.

As if the huge sandwich weren't enough, it comes with a choice of one (very hard to choose) side, such as hominy "mac" and cheese, bacon collards, yucca fries, or, if you haven't yet had your fill of plantains, cinnamon maduros. The meat at Luna is really good, but eating it with double-fried plantains is the greatest thing since, well, sliced bread. (IW)

Indian cuisine is my go-to for all occasions from celebratory to self-consolation. Generally, I'm a classicist. Nothing makes me happier than a basket of garlic naan and a big serving of vindaloo or chicken tikka masala. But sometimes I want to mix it up a bitand that's when I turn to the "contemporary selection" section of Azitra's menu to order the restaurant's peppercorn mango lamb.

If you do the sameand you shouldmake sure you're either hungry or have room in the fridge for leftovers. The plate arrives with seven or eight small filets of lamb and a handful of broccoli in a peppercorn mango ginger sauté. Lamb tends to be leaner than many meats, but the lack of fat marbling doesn't leave it lacking flavor. Plus, the sauté admirably does considerable heavy lifting on that front, delivering a slightly sweet but not-too-much-so flavor that works beautifully on both the lamb and the broccoli. You'll savor the taste while chewing the typically firm meat. Of course, you should give a nod to the classics and have a basket of garlic naan on the side. (CF)

We always yearn for a sense of home. And for me, a nearly lifelong resident of New Jersey and New York City, that home can be found in a perfect, piping pizza pie. Chapel Hill's iconic IP3 trades in a pie that is as close in quality to anything produced in the pizza meccas of my youth, a happy anomaly in a place known for barbecue, biscuits, and Brunswick stew. With a crust that is perfectly doughy, cheese that pulls from its foundation leaving just enough behind for you to fork off the tray, and sauce that is at once chunky and oily, tangy and robust, there is little to quarrel with about an IP3 pie fresh from its herculean oven.

With any true pizza parlor, the plain pie is the benchmark of quality. Dress it up however you like, if you like, but to experience the pie in its purest iteration, one plain pizza delivered to your table on a tin tray is all that is required. (MVM)

Pupuseria y Taqueria has mastered the art of the perfect pupusa, in addition to offering a host of other Salvadoran options. The tamarind juice and yucca fries are particularly exceptional treats. And the tacos are up there with the best of Durham. But the crowning achievement is pupusa chicharron, the most popular item on the menu.

They're served fresh and warm, made to tear into right away in order to take in the ooze of melted quesillo cheese, the smell of corn, the gasp of steam that escapes. Each pupusa comes with a side of curtido (a pickled coleslaw) and hot sauce, both of which should be heaped generously onto the pupusa, offering an acidic crunch and spicy burn to each savory bite. The curtido at Pupuseria is particularly good, with a pungent tang that cuts through the delightfully fatty excess of the pupusa. One pupusa will appease your appetite, but two or three quickly become a feast. (KJF)

There are few foods I think about as frequently as Bida Manda's pork belly soup. The first time I tried the silky, luxurious stew, I literally clutched my heart in delight. This soup is the ultimate comfort foodand all I want after a long day at work. Made up of chewy rice noodles, fresh herbs, and vegetables, all swimming together in a creamy coconut broth, and topped off with crispy bits of pork. All these different flavors and textures mingle together to create a taste that is truly one of a kind in Raleigh. A sip of this broth goes down smoother than your skin after a day at the spa, and it's even big enough to split between two. I know. Could it get any better? Probably not, which is why it's one of the restaurant's most popular items. If you're a vegetarian, I mourn for your taste buds. (EH)

At Mandolin, a farm-to-table gem in Raleigh, you'll find a menu of unexpected-yet-approachable twists on Southern dishes, like chicken and waffles topped with a bacon-mushroom emulsion, or a riff on shrimp and grits made with sautéed North Carolina shrimp, Carolina Gold Rice risotto, and a porky jus. Chef Sean Fowler's more-than-meets-the-eye execution extends to the mix-and-match bar plates menu, too, which also happens to be one of the best bar deals in town. Fifteen bucks get you a craft beer and either a main dish or two sides, like the can't-miss Pork Rinds with Collard Ranch.

The airy pork rinds, which eat like a chip and leave just the right amount of grease on your fingertips, meet their match in house-made ranch. For his take on the classic buttermilk dressing, Fowler uses crème fraiche made from unpasteurized buttermilk as a tangy, creamy base, then folds it with a smoked collard powder, made from smoked, fermented, and pulverized collard stems, to pack the dip with a serious punch of tart, fermented umami flavor. (LKH)

Coquette in North Hills sets the bar for quiche around here. And its quiche Lorraine is an exceptional display of exactly what quiche should be: light, pillowy egg custard, so fluffy that it wobbles a bit when your plate is set in front of you; crust that breaks with an audible snap when you cut into it; and just the right balance between ingredients that are rustic and refined.

The French-American bistro swaps out the more traditionally French lardons for pieces of bacon, a choice that works well with its inclusion of ham. Happily, Coquette also adds in caramelized onions, which lend themselves well to the humble, almost pastoral impact of the meats. Perhaps the most amusing part of this quiche, however, is the sheer size of it. There's no messing around with this sliceit's massive. (CS)

As a Midwesterner ignorant to the wiles of a fresh Southern biscuit, I found myself soundly seduced the morning I first stumbled into RISE. Although my senses may have been clouded by the haze of a hangover, I believe this love was pure. Baked fresh every half hour, the biscuits are delicious whether you top them with fried chicken, bacon, eggs, pimento cheese, or mac and cheese. The biscuits themselves are dense but moist, and perfectly buttery, with just the right amount of salt.

RISE's Righteous Chicken Biscuit comes in four options: Classic; Deluxe, with pickles and cheese; Southern, with pimento cheese and bacon; and the Spicy Chickaboom, with pickled jalapeños, crispy onions, and something delicious called Boom Boom sauce. No matter your choice, I recommend ordering a donut on the side. (HP)

For the first-timer, La Superior can be overwhelming. Don't be deterred. Inside are endless hunger-curbing, crave-inducing secrets, best used to feed a group. Turn left when you enter and sniff your way to the butcher's counter, where you'll find a plethora of roasted meats. King of these is the roasted chicken, spatchcocked for easy chopping. It will come wrapped in Styrofoam and plastic, with a baggie of fresh salsa taped on top.

Taco night is a classic way to feed a hungry family, but for $9.99, La Superior's roasted chicken will elevate taco night to a true taco party. Add a quart of beans stewed with chorizo and chilis if your heart desires. Grab your preferred quart of fresh salsa from the cooler to the right of the counter. Now, wind your way to the back of the store, where baked goods and prepared foods will tempt you to abandon friends or family waiting at home.

Maybe grab a concha for the morning, but head to the tortilleria, where a mesmerizing machine churns out fresh corn tortillas. Grab a few pounds and pay for your bounty. Congratulations! You've put dinner on the table without breaking a sweat. (MSL)

You'd be hard-pressed to find any ice cream on planet Earth better than you'd find at Durham's The Parlour, and for my moneyat $9 a pint, it ain't cheapyou'd be hard-pressed to find any ice cream at The Parlour better than the Salted Butter Caramel. Rich? Yep. Creamy? Good God, yes. The right sprinkling of saltiness to contrast with the sweetness of caramel? Definitely. Buttery? Oh hell, let them never show me the calorie count.

The Parlour, which opened its brick-and-mortar location in CCB Plaza in 2013, then doubled in size two years later, still can draw lines out the door and around the corner, especially during peak hours. Inside, there are tables filled with families eating sundaes and waffle cones, but you can grab a pint of your favorite flavor from a cooler by the front door and make a beeline to the register if you're in a hurry. The Salted Butter Caramel is The Parlour's most popular flavorand it's worth every iota of the hype. (JCB)

Practically anything on the Bittersweet menu is worthy of the "must-try" designation. There's the Derby Pie, a slice of chocolate bourbon pecan goodness, for example, or the light and luscious Key Lime Tequila Parfait. But vox populi vox dei, Bittersweet's most in-demand offering is the Salty Chipwich Ice Cream Sandwich. It's available only Wednesday through Saturday, but you're taking a risk if you wait until Saturday to get one. Once the supply for the week runs out, that's it. What sparks such fervor begins with two impressively large chocolate-chip sea salt cookies. Add luxuriously creamy vanilla ice cream. Add rolled-in-bourbon caramel popcorn. Slice into two thick triangles and arrange artfully. The result is a truly devotion-worthy dessert. Or entree. Who are we to judge? (CF)

Mithai Indian Café has made its name on crafting flavorful confections crafted with pure ingredients. Though Mithai literally translates to sweet, don't gloss over the savory snacks menu. The savory snacks are made with the same attention to detail and quality ingredients as their sweeter counterparts. Opt for the samosas: They are twice as large as typical samosas, yielding a filling-to-crust ratio that favors the filling, comprising peas, potatoes, and a less common addition of cauliflower, a nod to owner Davina Ray's Bengali roots. The veggie medley is bolstered by a heavy dose of spices, including a red chile- and cumin-heavy spice blend and chopped fresh green chiles, whose lingering heat is tempered by a dunk in the accompanying tamarind sauce. The samosas come two to an order, so they're great for sharing alongside a smattering of other small dishes, or polishing off solo. (LKH)

Many North Carolina classic delicacies stem from the idea that when someone is poor and kills an animal for food, nothing is wasted. In that spirit, the Scrambled Eggs and Rose Pork Brains at Big Ed's are listed unceremoniously on the menu under "Southern Specialties," next to more expected offerings like Sliced Pork Tenderloin and Fried Catfish.

When the dish comes to the table, there's little to distinguish it from a typical scrambled egg preparation. Rather, with the exception of a scattering of pale pink cubes, it looks more like the cook made a mistake and tossed in a couple of extra whites with two whole eggs. But your nose will sniff a gamy, spicy-sweet fragrance that's not off-putting but is a subtle reminder of what's to be eaten. The taste is reminiscent of a classic scramble, but silkier in texture and a bit richer in flavor, coating the mouth ever so slightly with a thin layer of buttery fat.

So what's the fuss besides the added richness? Besides expanding your knowledge of food and coming away with a story, it's an opportunity to experience a dish rooted in North Carolina's past. It's history on a plate. (SS)

Before everything was pumpkin spiced, salted caramel was the hot flavor profile, found in everything from hot chocolate to macarons (another trendy treat imported from France). It's no wonder that Sea Salt Caramel is one of the mainstays on the Locopops menu. The salted caramel popsicle tends to be a hit with both children and adults; it's not cloyingly sweet, but creamy and rich, with a touch of savory saltiness.

In summer, Locopops' Hillsborough Road headquarters transitions from the Sea Salt Caramel on the "regular" popsicle menu to a Lemon Curd, but the salted caramel flavor remains in ice cream form. This is a bonus for fans of the flavor, as you can taste ribbons of salted caramel in a more pliable, scoopable form, adding a new level to the experience. Year-round, you can find the flavor in many of Locopops's wholesale cases and at the Durham Bulls' ballpark, and it can always be special ordered. (MN)

Personally, I think one of the most satisfying textures in culinary existence is the crispy, crackly, audible-crunch-on-each-bite of flaky scratch-made pastry. Tell me that same pastry holds something savory, I'll end up running to try it.

Enter Brewery Bhavana's dim sum menu, which conveniently features its Shanghai-style mooncakes. Conveniently situated between scallion pancakes with bone marrow and oxtail jam, and crispy pig ears with spicy fish sauce, these pastries are a welcome haven for those whose palates might be slightly less adventurous. There's a refined simplicity to the beef, onion, and black pepper stuffed into carefully folded golden pastry; you could imagine these handhelds sitting on a family table as easily as you can see them sitting on a plate in the acclaimed Bhavana, piled with scallion relish. And yet, even as someone who will happily order a plate that includes the more unusual bone marrow or crispy pig ears, I find myself ordering these mooncakes again and again for my table. They're warm, simple, and strike just the right note of savory comfort food. (CS)

A dish that needs no introduction, one that's been written about in books, lectured about at universities, and discussed on panels nationwide, is Bill Neal's renowned shrimp and grits. The dish transcends its brick and mortar environ, having helped put not just Chapel Hill and North Carolina, but the entire South on the gastronomical map.

It was one of the first mentions from any of my food-crazed New York friends when I told them I was relocating to Chapel Hill, and is often the first thing they request when I pick them up at RDU for a weekend visit. The virtues of Crook's Corner's shrimp and grits are many. The thickness of the grits and how the tiny chives stick between the prongs of your fork, begging to be sucked out. The way the cheese melts just enough to be noticed but hardly overwhelms. The interaction between the firm and perfectly cooked mushrooms, giving an otherwise creamy dish a sense of sturdiness.

But to me, the majesty of this dish lies in the tiny lemon wedge that too many people consider a simple garnish. When applied generously, the sweetness of the lemon juice acts alongside the savoriness of damn near everything else to give the dish an entirely new complexity and depth, while still retaining its true identity as a simple and hearty Southern bedrock. (MVM)

When I was fourteen, I emailed the owner of The Refectory to beg for her kale salad recipe. I'm not a big fan of leafy greens, and I definitely wasn't back then, but the salad is just that good. I didn't end up getting my hands on it (another sign that it's top notch; I would keep a recipe that delicious under wraps, too), but two key words in the dish's description hint at The Refectory's secret method: "massaged kale." By massaging the kale with a Miso ginger vinaigrette, The Refectory breaks down the stiffness of the leaves while infusing them with a wonderful flavor. They round out the salad with walnuts and craisins, adding nutty and sweet complements to the savory, slightly spicy dressing. The salad is so scrumptious you'll forget how healthy it is until you're done, when it leaves you feeling reinvigorated and ready to conquer the world. (LG)

Despite growing up in Alabama, as Southern a place as you could find (the license plates proclaimed it "The Heart of Dixie"), my Southerner card was always on the verge of revocation. NASCAR bored me. Venerating people who, a century earlier, staged a rebellion and lost the subsequent war seemed like weird fetishism. And, putting my regional membership most at risk, I didn't like grits. Hated them, in fact. Just seeing scoops of them oozing across a breakfast plate made me cringe.

So it's a testament to how delicious the smoked gouda grits at Remedy Diner are for them to be something I actually crave on a consistent basis. I think the secret is that their grits-ness is camouflaged by the gouda and massive quantities of butter. Whatever the reason, they're addictive, and as part of the Remedy breakfast, they help the diner live up to its name with a plate of solace for whatever ails you at the moment. (CF)

Pipers and poets, pawns and kings. There is one thing that unites the writing class with the business class: the affinity for the three-martini lunch. However, with the Mad Men days of wine and roses long behind us, it's less copacetic to roll besotted through the workday.

Thank heavens for a repast like Mofu Shoppe's Smoked Pork Belly Bowl.

Available for lunch, dinner, and the all-important between shift, it's perfect for those lunch meetings that have run long and have run druuuunnk. What better to cut through all that booze than slabs of pork belly, thick as Texas brisket? Or a pile of pickled carrots and onions overtop a crunchy Thai basil raw corn salad? All of this is served in a compact metal bowl, topping a heaping helping of coconut white rice made sticky by a perfectly poached egg andvoila!the ship begins to steady.

The owners of Mofu Shoppe sharpened their culinary know-how inside Raleigh's popular Dump Pho King Truck (Season 6 winners of The Great Food Truck Race), so perhaps they know how to cook for a drinking clientele. Regardless, by the time you reach the bottom of that bowl, you'll be ready for another cocktailor better yet, a nap. (EP)

I've heard great things about the fresh pasta dishes at Gocciolina, but I'll probably never know for myself. I'd love to take a crack at chef-owner Aaron Benjamin's spaghetti all'amatriciana or the baked gnocchi, and each time I promise myself I'm finally going to indulge. But it has yet to be. The moment my eyes lay sight on the word carbonara, my sense memory floods with reminiscences of the thick chunks of house-cured pork belly, the silky slivers of pecorino cheese, the pasta made sticky with the unctuous pleasure of a cracked egg.

Benjamin, who travels frequently to Italy to research, prefers "bronze-cut" pasta, which is coarser and more porous than your average, everyday noodle and allows the sauce to better cling to it. The specials on the chalkboard sound enticing. Benjamin shares shots on the 'Gram during daily prep that make my tummy rumble. But once I recall that texture, that lip-smacking glee, I short-circuit and the only word summoned forth to yonder waiter is "carbonara." Furthermore, at $9Nine. Dollars.there's plenty of scratch leftover for a glass of wine and selections of fresh mezze. Next time, I tell myself, after I swab clean the plate with a chunk of warm bread, I'll branch out and try another pasta dish. Next time. (EP)

From Cactus Tacos and Taco Zone in Los Angeles to Rosita's Al Pastor in Austin, from New York City's beloved Taqueria to Chicago's Big Star, I've enjoyed many of America's most famous tacos over the years. And no matter what the menu may offer, no matter how lauded the al pastor or the fish tacos may be, I always order at least two or three steak tacos as a tortilla-wrapped litmus test. Much like the pizzeria's plain pie or the ice-cream joint's vanilla, the taco purveyor's true barometer is the steak taco. And the steak tacos from the Tacos El Niño truck are among the best in America.

Perfectly sized and expertly portioned, the truckwhich, on most nights, sits across from the Jiffy Lube near the corner of Merritt Mill and the west end of Franklin Streetslings a variety of tacos, but go for the steak. Tiny chunks of deeply marinated meat mingle with chopped white onions and fresh cilantro, while the truck's proprietors provide a small selection of salsa and hot sauces from which to choose.

Season as you wish, but I find anything beyond the three core ingredients superfluous. As with any truly great steak taco, the formula is simple, but the results are divine. (MVM)

The Street Vendor Corn on the Cob from Jose and Sons is a like a mini vacation for your mouth. It's unassumingjust a head of corn sprinkled with lime-infused mayo, queso fresco, chile, and cilantrobut with that simplicity comes great responsibility. And this concoction hits all the right marks. The chile and lime give the corn, which is hot and layered to perfection with a creamy dollop of mayo and cheese, the perfect tangy note. This dish is for anyone who had a religious experience after his or her first bite of elote, or Mexican street corn, often roasted over a grill and then coated with salt, lime, and a dash of cotija cheese. After trying Jose's version, you may find yourself seeking conversion once again. Best paired with a margarita and a humorous companion. (EH)

Suppli (supp-lee) is the Italian name for rice balls. An Italianization of the French word for "surprise," the traditionally Roman snack consists of rice and fresh, melty mozzarella, deep fried in small round or oblong morsels. From the outside, suppli generally don't appear to be much. Small orbs of fried something or other, often speckled with seasoning. Bite in, however, and realize the surprise, as therein lies the true essence of Italian cooking: minimal ingredients of the highest quality.

Pizzeria Toro slings suppli that are near perfect in size, consistency, and flavor; they're one of the few menu items I request almost every time the waitstaff stops by mid-meal to inquire how our table is doing. Though a serving comes independent of sauce, the traditional method by which to consume suppli is with a side of warm marinara in which to dip. Ask for the add-on, and the staff at Toro is more than happy to oblige.

As good as any main course or pizza on the menu, Toro's suppli alone are worth the trip to downtown Durham. (MVM)

Any biscuit-loving Triangle dweller may already know that Neal's only serves its fresh biscuits and breakfast toppings before 10:00 a.m. on weekday mornings and 11:00 a.m. on the weekends. What they may not know is that, for the very best biscuit experience, Neal's has set even tighter constraints. On Wednesdays only, Neal's serves up sweet potato biscuits that regularly get college students out of bed before eight, heart pounding with the thrill of the chase.

You may not have realized that you needed a Wednesday morning pick-me-up, but believe me when I tell you that you do. These sweet potato biscuits deliver on two countsthe flavor and texture are exceptional. The sweet potatoes lend a dark orange hue and light sweetness to the biscuits, allowing them to stand up to savory toppings just as well as sweet.

These biscuits also have the structural integrity to hold sausage, cheddar, and fried apples without crumbling into a frustrating pile in your lapan undervalued trait in an ever-growing world of biscuits.

Neal's has maintained cool, classic elegance in the face of increasingly absurd trends. This sweet potato biscuit proves it could never be called a one-trick pony. (MSL)

When I was in the third grade, I played a sweet potato in the school musical. My dad made me a costume in which I looked eerily yam-like. My best friend played a stick of butter and carried a very large butter knife.

I thought there was no higher calling for me and the rest of my sunset-hued brethren than those six and half minutes in the spotlight on the stage at Central Elementary School. But I was so wrong.

Elmo's Diner takes its multigrain pancakes, adds a little spice, and folds in sweet potatoes. They're spicy, sweet, and slightly smoky. Normally served with whipped cream, they're better with maple syrup. The bittersweet bite of the maple is the perfect foil to the earthy pancake. Though I'm not normally a sweet potato or cinnamon lover, every couple of months I run down like a toy with dead batteries, and the only thing that recharges them is a plate full of these things, eaten with no shame and plenty of gusto.

There is a good news-bad news situation. The bad news is they are not available every day. They reside only on the weekly specials menu, appearing every few weeks. The good news? They are the best pancakes you will ever eat, I promise.

Elmo's posts its specials menu online, so you might want to set up a Google alert. (DM)

The problem with writing about the entrees and tapas that appear nightly on Mateo's blackboard is that they change all the time. On one visit, for instance, on a New Year's Eve, there was a whole lobster dish, among the best lobster I've ever tasted, and I devoured it in the sloppiest manner imaginable. But I've not seen it again. On another visit, there was this delectable mushroom thing whose name I can't recall but whose texture and flavor somehow evoked steak despite being perfectly vegetarian.

But there is a blackboard feature I've seen more than once, and one I get nearly every time I see it: the sweet potatoes with burnt honey. They are exactly what the name describes. Four halved sweet potatoes topped with sweet cream and burnt honey. And they are as good a sweet-potato dish as you will find not just in Durham but anywhere in North Carolina, which knows how to do sweet potatoes rightif you can, in fact, find them, that is. And that requires some luck, as there's really no good way to know what's going to be on Mateo's blackboard until you show up.

For the uninitiated, don't let that scare you off. The tapas on Mateo's everyday menu are all wonderfuloh my god, the patatas bravas!and, on any given night, you'll be able to spot something on that blackboard that tickles your fancy. There's a reason Mateo is always in the conversation for best restaurant in the Triangle. (JCB)

My love for Gourmet Kingdom has come via slow and sustained evolution. At first, I was disappointed and found the whole experience mediocre. It was nothing like the Lower Manhattan Chinese joints I was used to. I admonished locals for telling me it was the best Chinese around and chastised Gourmet Kingdom for omitting egg rolls from the menu. They were doing everything wrong.

Then a good friend and longtime Chapel Hillian told me that I was one doing it wrong. To enjoy the full spectrum of Gourmet Kingdom, I had to stop ordering their Chinese my way and start ordering their way. He took me for an early dinner during which I was forbidden to mention anything named after a general or dishes with broccoli, and introduced me to their kung pao lotus root, dan dan noodles, beef noodle stew, and a dish called salt and pepper fish. The plate, true to its name, was a pile of deep-fried fish, generously seasoned with salt and pepper. Simple, easy, and delicious.

I finally discovered what the fuss was about, returning since on what seems like a weekly basis, always armed with a staple order of salt and pepper fish. After a dozen or so dinners, a waiter suggested I might enjoy the Szechuan spicy fish. He brought me what appeared to be my beloved salt and pepper fish, only this plate was seasoned heavily with red pepper flakes, pan-fried green onions, and tiny red peppercorns.

The fish are soft yet crunchy and, though the seasoning is heavy, it rarely overwhelms with the perfect blend of heat, kick, and spice. Simple to eat, and filling but not gut-busting, Szechuan spicy fish has become a new staple of my regular Gourmet Kingdom order.

Once the fish is gone, the plate is often left with a heaping pile of leftover seasoning, which I have taken to scooping into to-go boxes and using at home to season everything from our morning eggs to baked chicken, sautéed string beans, and even pasta. (MVM)

Of the dairy delights on Milk Lab's menu, the most originaland arguably most Instagrammableis the Thai Roll ice cream, which features frozen and crafted-to-order ice cream. Watching the action is part of the experience, which is part mad-scientist, part Stone Cold Creamery. Employees pour silver pitchers of an ice cream basesay, vanilla, matcha, or chocolateonto a special machine that looks like an icy flat-top, then feverishly chop and fold in ingredients like Oreos or strawberries as the base freezes.

Popular ice cream flavors, listed on the chalkboard menu as you walk in, include Cookie Monster: matcha, coffee, or vanilla base cut with Oreo; Monkey Business: vanilla with Nutella and fresh banana; and Unicorn Poop: vanilla with Fruity Pebbles cereal and caramel. Once the ingredients are incorporated and the mixture frozen, it's spread into a single layer, then scraped, rolled, and lined up into cups. You then customize your cup with unlimited toppings (or as much as will fit in the cup) like gummy candies, Pocky sticks, and fruit. (LKH)

It's weird to crave kale. But when it's Tuscan kale, cooked well and sandwiched between rustic Italian bread alongside sweet and hot pickled peppers and ricotta salata, it's frankly addicting. The combination of sweet, spicy, and savory leaves you feeling satisfied and nutritionally superior. Pair the panini with a cup of whatever soup du jour is posted on the menu board. (HP)

Dashinamed for a style of cooking stock or soup used in Japana collaboration between the owners of The Cookery and Toast, opened in downtown Durham in 2015, offering a selection of ramen dishes as well as an upstairs izakaya, a Japanese pub featuring small plates. The ramen bowls tend to be meat-centric, heavy on pork or chicken, but there's no need for all that: The vegetarian ramen will do you just fine, even if you're a carnivorous sort.

The selection of vegetables varies with the seasonsometimes you'll get a lot of sweet potatoes, beets, or other root veggies; currently you'll find snap peas, smoked radish, pickled turnips, pea shoots, scallion butter, and nori. But the real beauty of this bowl lies in the stock, a slurpable roasted vegetable and mushroom stock that infuses a savory intensity to the noodles. Add a soy-marinated hardboiled egg and some chili oil, and you've got one hell of a lunch for $13.50. (JCB)

A Southerner might hear "waffle fries" and immediately think of Chik-Fil-A, but Heavenly Buffaloes' take on them blows the giant fast-food chain out of the water. At Heavenly Buffaloes, you can customize your friesafter choosing standard or sweet potatowith an extra dusting of flavor that comes at no extra charge. The options include simple salt and pepper, lemon pepper, garlic parmesan, and jerk rub, among others. But the big winner is the Heavenly Buffalo rub, a special house blend of spices that delivers a perfect punch of slightly spicy flavor. You can't go wrong with these as a side or a late-night snack. If you're really not worried about the state of your arteries, give one a swipe through some blue-cheese dressing for a bite of heart-slowing decadence. (AH)

When I was a kid, I told my mom one time that I liked white chocolate. From that day forward, every Easter I received a white-chocolate bunny. Every. Easter.

As I got older and my palate expanded, I became increasingly tired of white chocolate. Before long, the only white chocolate I enjoyed were clusters of golden raisins covered in the stuff. My kid has even less love for chocolate's literal pale imitation. My offspring was born with a love of dark chocolateand a seriously undeveloped sweet tooth, which made the affinity for a popular La Farm product puzzling, to say the least.

It's Chef Vatinet's white-chocolate mini baguette. It's just as it sounds: baguettes studded with white chocolate chips. Which sounds crazy, right?

The crazy thing is how addictive it is. I shouldn't love it, and my child, who'd rather eat broccoli than brownies, sure shouldn't love it. But we do.

It's a La Farm perfectly made and cooked baguette. The chips peeking through the crust get caramelized and crispy on the outside, and the chips inside lend just enough sweetness to make you take one more bite, until there are no more bites left. (DM)

There are a ridiculous number of great places to grab pork barbecue in the Triangle. Add in the fact that we're right at the center of the state's Eastern vinegar sauce vs. Western tomato sauce divideand that everyone has a signature preparationand it can be a struggle to choose a definitive 'cue to show off to visitors.

For me, you gotta go whole hog.

Picnic's Whole Hog Barbecue uses locally sourced heritage pigs raised on a feed mixture that includes sweet morsels such as pumpkins, acorns, and butternut squash at Green Button Farm up the road in Bahama. Slow-cooked over oak, the meat is hand-pulled as opposed to chopped, and minimally seasoned. The lean pork strands are melt-in-the-mouth moist with a mix of dark and white meat. Pig Whistle, the house-made sauce, is a compromise of those aforementioned vinegar and tomato styles, driving home the concept that this is the ideal showcase for the regional cuisine.

You have a choice between getting The Boat, which pairs the pork with hush puppies and slaw, or The Plate, which adds a little more meat and two of Picnic's excellent sides, such as mac and cheese, collards, or sweet potato soufflé. Since you're already going whole hog, go all the way with it. (SS)

You can find a lot of fanciful pizza toppings around the Triangle (or in a two-block radius in Durham), from fiddlehead ferns to escargot to pistachios to Meyer lemons to venison. Sometimes that's exactly what I'm in the mood for, but other times I just want something normal. Well, fine, not completely normal, but normal-ish.

That's where Pie Pushers' The Wiley Willey comes in, toeing the line between a typical pizza and an inventive one. It turns out that combining mozzarella, pepperoni, banana peppers, and bleu cheese makes a really good pizzaso much so that it's hard for me to name any other pizzas at Pie Pushers, because even after perusing the menu and thinking that maybe it's time to branch out, I always end up with The Wiley Willey. Maybe it's because its name is fun to say. But more likely it's because the tanginess of the banana peppers mixes really well with the tanginess of the bleu cheese, which all then gets mellowed by the pepperoni and mozzarella. It's a very satisfying pizza that uses very normal pizza ingredients that, when combined, make you feel like you're eating something special. A very wily move indeed. (IW)

A great sandwich is truly one of life's most profound simple pleasures. You wouldn't expect to find a high-quality example at a Neopolitan pizza shop, but Pompieri pulls it off with its zeppinos. They're modest in size, which makes them a great option if you're looking for a filling meal that won't leave you feeling overindulged. The breadthe bread!has the good crunch and light pull of a pizza crust, but it's a little more sturdy for its sandwich-supporting responsibilities. You have six different options for your zeppino's insides, from a simple combo of warm tomato sauce and mozzarella to bacon, fontina cheese, glazed onions, and salad greens. The only catch is that you have to get your timing right in order to avail yourself of this specialtythey stop selling them at 3:00 p.m. daily. (AH)

Think we missed something great? Let us know at food@indyweek.com.

Bad Grampa, Sunrise Biscuit Kitchen, Chapel Hill

Butterscotch Sticky Bun, Hummingbird, Raleigh

Dragon Tuna, City Market Sushi, Raleigh

The Hustle with Tuna, Raleigh Raw, Raleigh

Ice cream sandwich, Rose's Noodles, Dumplings, and Sweets, Durham

Macaroni Au Gratin, Poole's Diner, Raleigh

N.C. Core Sounders with Pimiento and Prosciutto, 18 Seaboard, Raleigh

Plain Pizza Pie, Italian Pizzeria 3, Chapel Hill

Shrimp and Grits, Crook's Corner, Chapel Hill

Steak Tacos, El Niño Taco Truck,Chapel Hill (Usually)

Whole Hog Barbecue, Picnic, Durham

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