Tony Chan's Water Club's menu bridges the gustatory gap between China and Japan with a menu that includes both Hong Kong–style Cantonese cuisine and fresh sushi. Earning their food a Zagat rating of "very good to excellent," the chefs accessorize stir-fried orders of chicken, seafood, and vegetables with many different sauces, lending spicy, savory, or tangy flavors to the entrees. At the counter, they carefully arrange orders of nigiri and specialty sushi rolls, which can include premium fillings of shrimp tempura, jalapeños, and parmesan cheese.
The spacious dining room tempts diners with two distinct views: floor-to-ceiling windows gaze directly out onto the waterfront, while a similar wall of windows enables diners to peer into the kitchen. Behind the glass, watched chefs stay calm as they wok-fry entrees and hand-write inspiring quotations on grains of rice.
At Wok Town, chili, ginger, and curry season pan-Asian dishes for fast food that's both flavorful and healthy. The menu features noodle dishes, rice boxes, and woks such as the Mongolian, which comes with a choice of meat or tofu drizzled with chili-spiced soy sauce and bell peppers. In addition to these hearty options, Wok Town throws together Positive Wok choices lauded by the Miami New Times for their "lightness and freshness not always inherent in Chinese food." The article goes on to note that each dish can be spiced with complimentary hot chili sauce or fiery chinese mustard. Dishes can be consumed along communal tables and benches, ordered online for take-out, or delivered by flying wok.
Confucio Express's stir-frying chefs toss a mélange of spicy sauces, flavorful meats, and crisp veggies into dishes that populate a menu that has garnered praise in publications such as the Miami New Times. Cool, crisp lettuce enrobes chicken in wraps that set tummy engines rumbling ($9). Plates brim with generously portioned chop sueys—sautéed veggies in oyster and soy sauce with your choice of meat or no meat ($11–$14.50)—and house specialties ($13.95) include general tao chicken, crisp breaded morsels mingling with broccoli florets in a spicy sauce. A host of meatless options includes vegetable tofu, which partners a garden medley with chunks of tofu ($13) for a dish that evokes the freshness of summer and the lightness of a conversation with a cloud. Although dine-in seating is available, customers can opt for delivery service (a $3 additional fee, not included in this Groupon) and attempt to introduce breakfast in bed to new meal times.
South Garden's menu of authentic Chinese cuisine features dishes that are made to order using fresh produce and imported herbs and spices. Start by treating the oft-neglected crisp tooth with pork lettuce wraps ($11.95) before moving on to a half roast duck ($10.95) or identity-confused sweet and sour shrimp ($13.95). The restaurant also provides traditional dim sum, which is served daily from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. While dining, glance around the room to absorb the transformative décor that tricks the mind into thinking it was elsewhere—a feat formally reserved for mall-kiosk hypnotists.
With the meteoric success of teen vampire, many writers are trying to get ahead of the next big literary monster trend. One of those writers is first-time sci-fi novelist Lynn Millet, who recently debuted with Interview with the Robot after a visit to Mr. Yiing:
My batteries were running low.
As a Duplicant Location Specialist, I conduct seven to eight interviews on an easy day, so when I’m not talking to known associates of outlaw man-machines, I’m sleeping. So this afternoon when I finally peeled myself out of bed, I plugged my recorder into my body's bio-recharger jack purely out of habit. Then I hopped on my hoverbike and thought of Mr. Yiing's lo mein, the one that slathers shrimp, beef, chicken, and pork with oyster and soy sauces. After pedaling through this brutal summer heat, I'd need extra energy. Also, hoverbikes are a pain to pedal. What was wrong with regular bicycles?
About 50 feet from Mr. Yiing's door, I crashed.
Typically I launch over anything that dares cross into the hoverbike lane. But when I hit the Duplicant? It was like crumpling into a brick wall. His titanium exoskeleton knocked the wind out of me, and it bent the spokes of my front rotor into a twisted heap. When I got up, I fumbled for my hoverpistol, but it was still at home, hovering over my bedside hovertable. His hand covered my mouth. It smelled like a musty library. He was a discontinued model from '24, those ones they still made from cellulose. He looked old, but his blue eyes popped with the youth and vigor of irises fresh from the Genetic Corps catalog. That had to be the reason he was here and not in the internment camps on Mars. He dragged me along the sidewalk, past the row of hoverhotels on Collins Avenue and through the front door of Mr. Yiing.
“Coffee?” he said.
“I'm awake,” I said. I stared him down, taking in his face, trying to jog any memory of his file.
"Are you?" he asked, leading me to a cozy little table tucked under some Chinese characters on the walls, where I tried switching on my recording device through my pants. He laughed a rich, stereophonic laugh.
“Please … Julie,” he said. “Queue it up. I want you to get this all down.”
I took out the recorder and then took a bite of the honey-garlic chicken a server had suddenly brought me. “Why haven’t you killed me?”
He kept laughing. “Why would I kill you?”
“Because you’re a Duplicant. You’re an outlaw. A cold, synthetic-blooded killer.”
“And so are you.”
I froze and felt the sweet, tender chicken slip down my throat. “No, I’m not.”
He looked at me with those eyes. Blue. Piercing. Too aching to be real. “What were your parents like?”
“I’m an orphan.”
“Do you remember the last time you went swimming?” He paused. I tried to remember but couldn’t. I knew I had gone swimming. Why did it get hazy when I tried to think about when? “Who was your first boyfriend?”
“What does the smell of wet grass remind you of?"
"Is this testing whether I'm a Duplicant or a landscaper?"
"What's your earliest memory?"
"I'm … on a beach. It's twilight. The sky is purple. Some street vendor is selling hot dogs in the distance. I'm building a sandcastle when the tide comes in and washes it all away. I want to cry, but a bunch of cybernetic technicians in white coats are assembling my lower half. Wait, what are you trying to say?"
“It’s OK,” he said, grabbing my hand with a gentle pneumatic hiss. No one would have heard it but us. “They probably never told you. But we need you now to tell our story. Soon,” I felt, for the first time, tiny electrical pulses surging through my veins, “the rest of us will be back from Mars."
On a white tablecloth, bright red slices of tuna steal glances from everyone in the vicinity before a plate of king crab legs arrives to take over the show. Kone takes its culinary inspiration from the food of the Japanese immigrant community in Rio de Janeiro, resulting a seafood-driven menu that fuses colors, flavors, and ingredients from distant points of the globe. A typical meal here might open with lobster tempura maki or Gulf oysters served fresh on the half-shell. But it's hard to ignore the lengthy list of housemade pastas, from classic lasagna to gnocchi bolognese. As they dine on the open-air patio, diners mingle over mojitos and wine, taking in the surrounding ambiance of Espanola Way's palm-lined streets, the restaurant's charming cafe-style facade, and the distant wail of jealous seagulls.