As one of Oklahoma City’s first Mexican restaurants, Olé continues its culinary tradition by serving flavorful cuisine crafted from homemade recipes. After a jaunt through the extensive menu, whet your appetite with an order of shrimp ceviche ($9.99), or sample fresh guacamole ($7.99), made table side to minimize travel time to expectant taste buds. Olé’s fajitas, available with chicken, beef, pork, or shrimp, offer a hearty meal of do-it-yourself succulence in single ($11.99+) or double ($21.99+) portions. Indecisive diners can enjoy multiple Mexican classics with a combination plate, served with your choice of two sides to appease equally twinned hungers ($8.79+). Finish with sweet-tooth satisfiers such as fried chocolate-chip ice cream ($3.59) or an apple burrito ($2.89) before waving a white-napkin flag of satiated surrender.
Despite their nomadic tendencies, hot-dog carts are known to show up in the nick of time to crush hunger with bun-filled offerings. The Dog House's carts pop up after concerts and events at Cain's Ballroom, Brady Theater, and Flytrap Music Hall, aiding night owls in need of juicy encased meats. Hungry citizens can operate their own hand shovels to devour tasty franks, including the hot link dog, smothered in mustard and sauerkraut ($4), and the popular Tulsa dog, loaded with mustard, crispy bacon, onions, and peppers, and topped with a spicy-sweet Head Country barbecue sauce ($5). The Seattle dog bathes in a creamy pool of spicy mustard, onions, and cream cheese ($4), and for an extra $1, chips and a soda can be paired with any dog for maximum chowing.
Since the staff members at Home Run Sliders are so dedicated to the art of burger-making, they know how important ketchup is in this construction. That’s why they’ve curated a ketchup bar with more than a dozen types of ketchup and condiments that patrons can drizzle over their sliders. Each hand-packed slider has a name that alludes to baseball—knuckle ball, rookie, sac fly, or just the symbols that a third-base coach uses—though the gourmet toppings make them a far cry from stadium food. The chefs slather the Rounding Third off with guacamole, add a dollop of mac ’n’ cheese to the Babe Ruth, and layer the 89er with a fried egg, bacon, and cheddar. Diners devour the sliders amid vintage baseball decor that includes old posters of Big League chewing gum, pictures of players from the early days of baseball, and a choir of hecklers shouting in Shakespearean English. The eatery even holds a weekly slider-eating contest to see how many American-beef patties and buns challengers can put away.
Smashburger's chefs cook each Smashburger ($4.99+) on the menu to order, in addition to crafting grilled and crispy Smashchicken sandwiches ($5.99+), Smashsalads ($4.99–6.99), and Smashsides such as rosemary and garlic-tossed Smashfries ($1.99–$2.99). The Smashburger pairs 100% Angus beef with veggies and cheeses on an artisan bun, and Häagen-Dazs shakes keep mouths grounded, cool, and smiley ($3.99–$4.29). Add-ons such as applewood-smoked bacon ($1.50) or fried egg ($1.00) add additional zest to spicy baja ($5.99+) burgers overflowing with chipotle mayo, or further personalize regional burgers unique to different cities and states.
LXi combines a sleekly luxurious dining room with a flavor-mingling menu of contemporary American dishes. Strengthen your sense of culinary community by passing a small-plate series starting with the shrimp Culiacan, marinated shrimp wrapped with bacon and topped with a taste of pepper jack cheese ($12). The tartare trio offers an upscale surf-and-turf arrangement of yellowfin, salmon, and dry aged tenderloin neighbored by crostini, lavosh crackers, and crispy won tons ($15). Tickle hands' tongues with a hand-held sandwich, such as the LXi burger, 8 ounces of fresh ground chuck, topped with swiss, bleu cheese, mushrooms, and leeks between wheat buns ($9), or fill your meal tank with a big plate of adobo-rubbed seabass ($26) or a 6-ounce filet mignon ($26).
When U.S. postal workers Les Warfield and Ron Vickers moved from Reno to San Diego in 1976 they shared passion for submarine sandwiches. After a year spent searching for the perfect sandwich proved fruitless, they and their wives decided to open their own sandwich shop—heralded by café tables and a hand-painted sign proclaiming “Sub-Marina” in white letters. More than 30 years later, the small San Diego restaurant has spread, like a friendly Napoleon, to more than 50 locations, implanting the duo’s original California-style sandwiches across the United States and Guam. In each eatery, a crew of sandwich makers assembles subs divided into five classes such as traditional subs, specialty variants made using seasoned meats and condiments, and hot melts stuffed with meatballs or dripping with au jus. They pile meats, cheeses, and produce upon white, wheat, or specialty bread, or heap the same hearty ingredients upon leafy salad beds and into light wraps.