Okay so if you haven't hit up Havana on South Dixie yet, what are you even doing living in Florida? This place is open 24 hours and the walk-up ventanita window is where Jamie ends up at midnight ordering a Cuban sandwich and a cafecito like it's totally normal. The ropa vieja is the real deal, the garlic bread they bring before your meal is dangerous, and the portions are big enough that you're eating leftovers the next day. Pro tip from us — skip the regular Cubano and get the media noche. The sweet bread with the salty pork and Swiss? Game changer.
We got tipped off about this place by a barista in St. Augustine who said it was "the real deal" and she was NOT lying. The Floridian is tucked away from all the tourist madness on St. George Street and it's where locals actually go to eat. Their shrimp and grits are made with datil peppers grown just a few miles from the restaurant, and the whole vibe feels like your cool Southern aunt invited you over for dinner. If you're visiting St. Augustine and eating anywhere else first, you're doing it wrong.
Jamie lost his mind the first time he tried the Pulled Pork K-9 sandwich here — literally made a scene in the restaurant, no shame. Yellow Dog Eats is inside this old country store in tiny Gotha and the whole place feels like eating in your eccentric aunt's backyard. Mismatched furniture, dog photos everywhere, string lights in the garden. And then there's the Holy Crap Dip — pulled pork, goat cheese, raspberry melba — which sounds absolutely insane but trust us, it works. Come hungry because you're leaving with a to-go box.
This is the Florida seafood experience everyone thinks they're getting at those fancy waterfront restaurants but never actually does. Star Fish is in a tiny fishing village called Cortez near Bradenton — no credit cards, no frills, just the freshest blackened grouper you'll ever put in your mouth served out of cardboard containers while pelicans literally hang out next to your table. Jamie says this place proves you don't need a dress code or a reservation to have the best meal of your life.
Florida's oldest restaurant, opened in 1905, and still family-owned five generations later. That alone is worth showing up for, but the food backs it up completely. The 1905 Salad gets tossed tableside and the Cuban sandwich here is the benchmark — every other Cuban in Tampa gets compared to this one. Julie loves the black beans and the live flamenco dancing, Jamie just keeps ordering bread. It's the kind of place where you feel the history in the walls and the flavor in every bite.
Don't you dare judge this place by the strip mall it sits in. Little Moir's or just "The Food Shack" if you want to sound like you live here serves some of the most creative seafood in South Florida. The sweet potato-crusted fish is legendary and the chalkboard menu changes based on whatever's fresh that day. Julie calls this the restaurant that proves Florida's best food doesn't need an ocean view it just needs someone in the kitchen who actually cares.
License plates and currency from all over the world covering every inch of wall space, and the daily specials are whatever somebody just pulled off their boat. That's Mrs. Mac's. This funky Key Largo institution has been feeding people forever, and the fresh-catch seafood entree is always the right call. Jamie says if this restaurant were a person, it would be the friend who's been everywhere, done everything, and still keeps it real.
Tucked away on Davis Islands where you'd never find it unless someone told you and now we're telling you. The outdoor patio feels like a side street in Italy, and every entree comes with a house salad, garlic baguette, AND an espresso because Oggi understands how a meal is supposed to work. The butternut squash ravioli is the reason people drive across Tampa on a Tuesday night. Julie says it reminds her of eating at her dad's table growing up, and from the daughter of Chef Ennio Riga, that's the highest compliment a restaurant can get.
A weathered building steps from the Deerfield Beach pier that's been serving no-frills seafood to locals for decades. You come here because the fishing captains eat here and Jamie's rule is simple: when the people who catch the fish trust a place, you trust it too. The fried grouper basket and conch fritters are the standards, and the cold beer hits different when you can literally smell the ocean. Nothing fancy. Just Florida doing what Florida does best.
If you grew up in the Northeast like Julie did in New Jersey and you miss a real hoagie, Laspada's fixes that problem immediately. The staff literally tosses freshly sliced meats and cheeses down the line like a show, and the sandwiches are piled so high you need a strategy to eat them. Julie says this is the only sub in Florida that would survive in Jersey, and Jamie says the line out the door at lunch proves South Florida agrees. Worth the wait. Every time.
This is where St. Pete's food-obsessed crowd goes when they want Italian that actually pushes the envelope. The vibe is rustic meets modern, the pasta is handmade, and every dish has something unexpected happening that makes you pause and go "oh wow." Jamie ordered the thing that sounded weirdest on the menu, loved it, and now does that every time we go. This is the kind of restaurant where you let the chef drive and just enjoy the ride.
Parisian brasserie meets Southern hospitality on the banks of the St. Johns River, and it works beautifully. The steak frites and duck confit are textbook, but the burger here has quietly built a cult following that nobody talks about loud enough. The cocktail program is serious — these bartenders treat mixology like a craft, not a party trick. Julie says this is the restaurant you take someone to when you want to prove that Jacksonville has range. And it absolutely does.
Here's how you know a restaurant is the real deal: local chefs eat there on their day off. The Ravenous Pig in Winter Park doesn't scream for attention it just quietly serves elevated comfort food with a killer craft beer program and a menu that changes with the seasons. Jamie says when the people who cook for a living choose to eat somewhere, you follow them there. No questions asked. This place helped put Orlando's food scene on the map and it's still leading the pack.
James Beard-nominated chef Steve Phelps has been championing sustainable seafood at this quaint downtown Sarasota spot since 2011 long before "farm-to-table" became a marketing buzzword everybody throws around. He sources the most responsibly caught fish he can find and turns it into something you'll think about for days. Julie says the mushroom bisque alone is worth the trip down I-75. This is fine dining that doesn't make you feel like you need to dress up or whisper. Just great food, done right.
Yes, everybody's heard of Versailles. Yes, it's always packed. But Jamie will fight anyone who calls it overrated because it's packed for a reason the food actually delivers. The ventanita window for cafecito and croquetas is a Miami institution that no amount of hype can ruin, and the ropa vieja and lechon asado inside the dining room are served in portions that could feed your entire family. Skip Ocean Drive. Come to Calle Ocho. This is where Miami actually eats Cuban food, and it has been since 1971.
Boats bobbing a few feet from your table, stone crab claws in season that are reason enough to plan your whole trip around, and an atmosphere that's casual enough for flip-flops but still feels a little special. That's The Dock. Naples dining can get stuffy and overpriced real fast, but this place keeps it real with fresh seafood, cold drinks, and a waterfront view that reminds you why you live in Florida. Julie says it's the restaurant equivalent of a deep breath.
Don't let the name scare you off Stinky's sits in a beautiful spot along 30A with palm-lined entrances and seafood that's anything but funky. The crawfish pie brings a taste of Louisiana to the Emerald Coast, and the oyster selection is outstanding whether you go raw or baked with creative toppings. The smoked tuna dip is the perfect way to start while you figure out the rest. Julie says this is the place that makes you remember why you moved to Florida outdoor seating, Gulf air, and a meal that makes everything feel right.
Originally born in Orlando, Hawkers has quietly become one of Jacksonville's most beloved restaurants in the Five Points neighborhood. The menu is a whirlwind tour of Southeast Asian street food roti canai, laksa, Thai basil fried rice, Penang curry and everything is built for sharing. Jamie's strategy is to bring a big group, order half the menu, and pass plates around the table until everyone's tried everything. The vibe is energetic, the prices are friendly, and the food hits every single time.
We talked about this one on the Palm Beach food episode and we'll keep talking about it because Lynora's deserves it. Family-owned Italian on Clematis Street that's become the gold standard for Italian food in South Florida. The Meatball Monday special is legendary people plan their week around it. Julie grew up eating her father Chef Ennio Riga's Italian cooking, so when she gives an Italian restaurant her stamp of approval, it means something. Multiple locations now, but the Clematis Street original is where the magic started.
Another Clematis Street favorite we mentioned on the show. Rocco's is where you go when you want tableside guacamole, over 400 varieties of tequila, and an energy level that matches your Friday night mood. The tacos are the crowd favorite but honestly the whole menu delivers. Jamie says the key is to let your server pick the tequila flight because they know things you don't. Also in Boca if you're further south. Either way, you're having a good time.
We brought up Batch on the podcast for a reason it's the kind of modern gastropub that does elevated comfort food without ever making you feel like you're paying for the word "elevated." Shrimp and grits, gourmet burgers, craft cocktails that take themselves seriously without being snobby about it. The vibe is perfect for a Wednesday night or a weekend with friends from out of town who you want to impress without trying too hard. Also in Delray Beach.
Dixie Highway hidden gem that came up in our Palm Beach food conversation on the show. Cafe Med brings Mediterranean flavors to West Palm Beach without the price tag or attitude that some Palm Beach restaurants think they need. It's a neighborhood spot that rewards regulars and surprises first-timers exactly the kind of restaurant Julie and Jamie love to put people onto. If we're calling it out on a podcast about Florida food, it's because it genuinely earned its spot.
Right on the waterfront near Clematis Street with views of the Intracoastal that make every single meal feel like an event even a random Tuesday lunch. Pistache does classic French fare the way it's supposed to be done, and there's a reason it was named the best French restaurant in Palm Beach and Broward counties. The Sunday brunch locals call it "le frunche" is a whole experience with champagne and pastries that Julie says reminds her of mornings in a Parisian café, except the weather's actually nice. This is the spot you bring someone when you want to impress them without being over the top about it. Order the steak frites, trust the wine list, and sit outside if you can.
An Avondale institution that's been around for decades and still manages to surprise you every time you walk in. The globally-inspired menu rotates regularly Mediterranean one week, Asian-influenced the next, Southern comfort the week after and somehow everything lands. Weekend brunch here draws the kind of crowd that actually knows Jacksonville's food scene, not the people Googling "best restaurants near me." Jamie says if you're visiting Jax and a local sends you to Biscottis, it means they actually like you. The brick-lined space feels warm without trying, and the small plates are perfect for the kind of meal where you just keep ordering and sharing until you can't move.
If you have a friend in Miami and they insist on taking you somewhere for breakfast, nine times out of ten it's Vicky Bakery. This place has been doing it since 1972 and the formula hasn't changed because it doesn't need to pastelito de guayaba, croqueta de jamon, a loaf of fresh Cuban bread, and a cafecito that wakes up your entire soul. Julie says the morning ritual here is sacred: you walk in speaking English, you leave with a coffee habit and three bags of pastries you didn't plan on buying. The Hialeah and Coral Gables locations carry the most old-school energy, but honestly every Vicky Bakery delivers. This is where Miami starts its day, and it has been for over 50 years.
These guys started as a food truck in 2019 and blew up so fast they now have two brick-and-mortar locations in Sarasota and both are packed for a reason. The Middle Eastern flavors here are punchy, bold, and made with the kind of love you can literally taste. The chicken shawarma pita with pickled slaw, egg, and tahini is the move, but honestly we haven't ordered a single thing here that didn't make us stop mid-bite and look at each other like "are you serious right now?" Julie says Florida doesn't have enough restaurants like this — places where you can tell the people behind the counter genuinely love what they're doing. From food truck to two locations to one of Sarasota's best restaurants? That's a Florida success story if we've ever heard one.
Look, Bern's isn't a hidden gem everybody in Florida knows the name. But it's on this list because it genuinely lives up to every single bit of its reputation, and that's rare. The dry-aged steaks are cut to YOUR specification, the wine cellar holds close to half a million bottles, and then they take you upstairs to the dessert room which is an experience that doesn't exist anywhere else in this state. Jamie's face the first time he walked into that dessert room was worth the entire dinner. You pick your steak by thickness, you choose the exact temperature, and they nail it every time. Julie says Bern's is old-school fine dining that actually earned the right to call itself that no shortcuts, no trends, just decades of doing it better than almost anyone. It's a splurge, we're not gonna lie, but it's the kind of splurge where you walk out saying "okay that was worth every penny."
If you show up to Aunt Catfish's on a Sunday after church, just know you're walking into a beautiful kind of chaos and that's exactly how you know it's good. This place sits right on the Halifax River south of Daytona and has been packing people in since 1990 with all-you-can-eat catfish, fried shrimp, and cinnamon rolls that land on your table before you've even opened the menu. Jamie ate four of those cinnamon rolls before his actual meal arrived and has zero regrets. The riverside patio, the sweet tea, the servers who treat you like you've been coming here your whole life this is Southern hospitality the way it's supposed to feel. Julie says Aunt Catfish's is the kind of place where you bring your whole family, eat way too much, and drive home with the windows down feeling like Florida is the greatest place on earth.
This is the kind of Florida story you can't make up Cap's is the oldest restaurant in the state still sitting on its original site, and you can only get there by boat. You park at the dock, they ferry you across, and suddenly you're eating at a place that started as a rum-running speakeasy in the 1920s. Winston Churchill ate here. FDR ate here. And now Jamie's eating here telling everyone within earshot about the hearts of palm salad like he discovered it himself. The fresh fish is always excellent, the Old Florida atmosphere is unlike anything else you'll experience, and the whole thing the boat ride over, the history in the walls, the food on the plate feels like a time capsule that somehow survived the condo boom.
Part restaurant, part live music venue, all Tampa and there's nowhere else like it in the entire state. Skipper's has been the beating heart of Tampa's roots music and food scene for decades, serving smoked fish, gator bites, and that Blackened Grouper Reuben that Adam Richman put on the Travel Channel as one of the Best Sandwiches in America. You eat under a canopy of oak trees with string lights while blues, reggae, or zydeco plays on the Skipperdome stage, and for a minute you forget you're in a city of half a million people. Jamie says Skipper's is the kind of place that could only exist in Florida it's weird, it's wonderful, and it doesn't care what you think because it's been doing its thing since before anybody asked.