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.

Kozy Kitchen opened in 1946, during the era of segregation. Back then, it was one of many Fifth Ward barbecue restaurants for blacks. The brisket is juicy and tender here, and the beef links are the best in the city. But it's the veal that makes this place worth a detour. The veal sandwich is stuffed with a large pile of meat that includes a little of the spicy black coating from the outside and long strings of juicy veal. You can sprinkle it with the homemade hot sauce that's out on the tables, but don't forget to put your thumb over the cap and shake the bottle first. Kozy Kitchen's sandwich combo plate comes with your choice of sides. Go for the potato salad, it's the extremely soft style known as mashed potato salad, and it's made with pickle relish and mustard. The Fifth Ward's historic black barbecue joints were the unwitting victims of integration. Kozy Kitchen is the last one left.

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.

Bibim means "mixed" and bap means "rice" in Korean. So bibim bap means "rice hash." Bibim bap is all the rage lately because it's light and healthy. And the Green Pine Tree is the place to eat it. Their version includes carrots, zucchini, cucumbers and sprouts, all of them marinated in a ginger dressing. The idea is to dump a bowl of hot, sticky rice over the cold vegetables and a raw egg yolk, then add some of the fiery Korean pepper paste called kochujang and stir it all together with a long-handled spoon. The egg yolk, the hot sauce and the marinade from the vegetables combine to form a lovely salad dressing. And the combination of hot rice and cold vegetables creates an exciting contrast. At the Green Pine Tree, you can hide away with your bibim bap in one of a half-dozen private dining nooks, or combine it with a fish course in the neon-lit sushi bar.

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.

Everyone goes on and on about Krispy Kreme, but its down-home vibe feels a little bit forced now that the chain is taking over America. So why not go for the real thing? Christy's Donuts on the corner of Montrose and West Gray is a Houston institution. You can't miss its very ugly yellow and red sign out front -- but hey, that just gives the place charm. Inside you'll find a friendly staff offering up a plethora of tasty treats -- everything from apple fritters to chocolate glazed. We recommend the Bavarian filled doughnuts -- in a word, dee-lish. A dozen is less than five bucks, and the coffee, hot cocoa, juice and soda are reasonably priced, too. Once you've got your goodies there's no reason to leave. Christy's offers seats and tables where you can enjoy your breakfast. Yes, the chairs are made of a bright yellow plastic that matches the sign out front, but nobody goes to Christy's strictly for the decor.

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, jalapeño, blue cheese and feta. Whole Foods is a perfect final stop when you're looking to accessorize the ultimate wine-and-cheese party.

Don't ask the bartenders at the Davenport if they have any suggestions, or you'll be drinking Barbie's Bathwater before the guy next to you makes his first move with his silicone date. Luckily, you don't need to ask for help, because the drink menu at your fingertips offers a long list of hilariously named cocktails. Where else can you find drinks like Duck & Run, Antarctic Blast, Keke D and Bloodied and Bruised? And with more than 50 different kinds of vodka, along with all the other usual liquors and mixers, each drink is as unique as its name.

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!

To name a drink is to love a drink. Harvey Wallbangers are for old geezers, Sex On the Beach is not all it's cracked up to be, and having a Screaming Orgasm is what life's all about. But why not just say it like it is? A rainy night at The Boat at 3 Cheers produced this dizzying little number made of vodka, Southern Comfort, Galliano, orange juice and sloe gin. Keep your old-fashioneds, Exploding Irish Car Bombs and Sex with an Alligator -- we'll take a Slow Comfortable Screw Against the Wall every weekend we can manage.