Plum sauce is mundane in these surroundings. If the toddy palm drink, fresh seaweed, spicy sliced pork ear and stomach, or fish balls aren't exotic enough for you, try the mochi chocolate pai, karela, tidora or moo, none of which comes with a translation. Then there's the fruit-flavored beef jerky and the sweet soursop, both of which sound like oxymorons. Live geoducks (giant clams) lie lazily in one of the many fish tanks, awaiting their fate as live sushi. Kids, this is not the kind of stuff you'll find at Kroger. The wildest ingredients, though, also may be the most expensive. Take a gander at the dried deer leg at $25 per pound, or the shark fin at a toothy $250 a pound (both are used to make soup). Sorry, you can't just have a pound or two; you've got to take the whole fin, which weighs from ten to 13 pounds. That's not just exotic, it's plum wild.

When you query the folks at Zydeco Louisiana Diner as to just why their mashed potatoes taste so good, they look at you quizzically and reply, "They're real." Duh. Of course they are. There's simply no way instant taters could provide such pleasure. Creamed soft but not so soft you don't find the occasional chunk of potato hidden inside, this godsend of a dish is finished off with lots of garlic and butter. Of course, the catfish and okra are great. But you really need only a large plate of mashed potatoes and a side of corn bread to leave Zydeco happy. Sure, you can almost feel your arteries clog up as you shovel them down. But what a way to go.

Sam Segari's gumbo is murky, mysterious and full of character -- just like everything else in this crazy little joint. The soup is loaded with fresh shrimp, and the dark roux is just spicy enough to keep your lips warm. Sam prefers to serve the gumbo as an appetizer. The entrées are whatever he feels like making, but there's usually a steak and a crab salad covered with more lump crabmeat than anybody could possibly eat. Don't ask to see the menu -- there isn't one. And don't ask to be seated in the no-smoking section -- they don't have one of those, either. There are only six tables in the whole place: two round ones in the barroom up front where Sam holds court, and four in an old-fashioned dining room decorated with a huge dark wooden breakfront. If Sam doesn't like your attitude, he'll run you off, regulars warn. And they aren't kidding.

Our favorite feature of the olive bar at Whole Foods is that samples are freely available, so it's easy to try some new and exotic olives before you buy. Tucked away at the back of the store, near the cheese counter, the bar offers an excellent array of olives from around the globe. They come in all different colors, sizes, shapes and textures, with or without pits. There are picholines and niçoises from France, arbequinas and catalanas from Spain and kalamatas from Greece. The best are the stuffed one, filled with everything imaginable: pimientos, garlic, jalapeo, blue cheese and feta. Whole Foods is a perfect final stop when you're looking to accessorize the ultimate wine-and-cheese party.

The counter men wear New York Fire Department gimme caps and talk with that unmistakable Big Apple accent. The menu hanging on the wall behind the counter includes a Yiddish glossary, just in case you're wondering about authenticity. Yes, these guys are genuine meshuga New Yorkers, and the big doughy, boiled-and-baked bagels taste just like the ones you get on the Upper West Side. But there are plenty of good bagels to choose from in Houston. What causes New York expats to schlepp the whole mishpokhe all the way across town to this little shopping center bagel shop on the U.S. 59 frontage road are all the tasty schmeers. Hot Bagels has an incredible selection of smoked fish. Sure, there's kreftig Nova Scotia salmon and shana whole whitefish, but they also have the best hand-sliced sturgeon this side of Barney Greengrass, the Sturgeon King. And such a mechaya, you don't find just anywhere!

Is there smack in this salsa? No, of course not. But the addictive quality of El Pueblito's version of the condiment will make you wonder. At this Guatemalan/Mexican restaurant, owned by Eduardo and Monica Lopez, the salsa is more than just something to dip the chips in while waiting for your main course -- in fact, stopping there would be almost impossible. The mixture of fresh cilantro and ripe tomatoes makes everything on the varied menu taste even better than it does plain -- from the vegetarian quesadillas to the fresh bay snapper -- so go ahead and cover your plate with the stuff. The chunky sauce is blessed with a sharp bite that somehow makes your mouth feel cool and hot all at the same time, and if you become a regular salsa junkie, the staff will string you out even more by bringing you extra big cups of it. Forget pot -- after one visit it's obvious that El Pueblito's salsa is the true gateway drug.

The lunch salad with scallops, listed on the menu as "pancetta-wrapped Maine diver scallops, warm salad of watercress, jicama and wild mushrooms," tastes as big as its name. First you notice the scallops: three big fat ones, wrapped in pancetta, and the salty Italian bacon pairs beautifully with the sweet shellfish. Then you assess the "salad" part of the equation. Those scallops surround a small, warm mound of jicama slivers, wild mushrooms and watercress. When you eat a bit of everything at once, the combination of textures and flavors is so entrancing (chewy! soft! crunchy! salty! sweet! peppery!) that for a minute you forget about Quattro's impressive view of the George R. Brown Convention Center. You forget to enjoy the restaurant's hyperstylish interior. You forget even what you were telling your lunch partner just a second before. Maybe it's not fair to classify this dish as a salad -- it could count as a light entrée -- but chef Tim Keating obviously doesn't fret about such petty distinctions, and neither will you. In fact, you'll wish more salads took themselves so seriously.

Truluck's stone crabs are flown in every day from company beds in Florida. If they were any fresher, these crustaceans would arrive at your table fighting. They're kept on ice for the journey but never frozen. This yields a watery, stringy stone crab. Novices take note: You should eat only the white meat in the large claw. It's nearly impossible to find a more enjoyable feast than this, served with either a simple melted butter or a spicy mustard sauce. Monday is the best day: The all-you-can-eat stone crab feast is $39.95.

The challah is braided and brown on the outside and golden with egg yolks in the middle -- take some home and make French toast with it and your breakfast will take on a whole new dimension. If you're thinking of making roast beef sandwiches, you'll want to build them on moist, onion-covered Three Brothers onion rolls. Corned beef sandwiches? Get the seeded rye; the chewy crust increases the interest level of your typical meat-and-mustard combination dramatically. On Fridays, there's also corn rye, a super-dense version of rye that's outstanding with chopped liver. (It can't be cut with an ordinary bread knife so remember to ask them to slice it for you.) On Friday, Three Brothers also has chocolate and cinnamon babkas and other sweet breads to choose from -- all of them first-rate. What else would you expect from the best Jewish bakery in the state?

We're willing to bet that Oysters Gilhooley are the best barbecued oysters on the entire Gulf Coast. The fresh-shucked oysters are topped with cheese and sauce and then smoked over a pecan-and-oak fire. The shells get partially blackened and the oysters pick up a strong smoky flavor while remaining juicy. And the wonderful flavor is only accentuated by Gilhooley's charming atmosphere. The outdoor seating area, with its ramshackle patio furniture, is overgrown with vegetation. The interior is all worn woodwork and old furniture. The rafters seem to be held together by the license plates that cover them. Children are forbidden here, no doubt in part because of all the show-us-your-tits photos. Gilhooley's Raw Bar may also be the last place in the United States where you can get a dozen raw oysters and a rare hamburger for lunch.