Housed in a vintage gas station (hence the name), the Food Filling Station should be included among Houston's funky folk-art environments on the Orange Show's Eye-Openers tour. Surrounded by colorfully painted wrought-iron fencing, interspersed with wine bottles overturned in cement, its authentic gas pumps stand at attention alongside such collectibles as antique toys, plaster chickens and a ceramic Big Boy statuette. But it's most likely the food that keeps this odd little patio spot buzzing as Heights locals squeeze in for a deli sandwich or belly-busting hot dog, all served on homemade bread. Chalkboard specials occasionally tempt them to try the gourmet dishes the owner has brought from her Heights cooking school, La Bella Cucina. Promising plate lunches include stuffed pork chops, Cornish hen with a raisin/rice stuffing, and manicotti with marinara sauce. Homemade sweets include cookies and slices of pie. You can also find rosemary biscuits and scones every morning, but -- like everything else here -- when they're gone, they're gone.

There isn't another Italian restaurant in Houston that's even in the same league with Da Marco. The place can be compared only to cosmopolitan outposts such as Babbo, the impossible-to-get-into Italian restaurant in Greenwich Village. Like Babbo's chef, Mario Batali, chef Marco Wiles spares no effort or expense to get the best ingredients -- often flown in from Italy. These sparkling culinary gems make all the difference. With a cream-injected fresh mozzarella called burrata beneath them, a pile of house-cured anchovies becomes a rare treasure. The sweet, hot pungency of Tuscan mustard-brined fruits known as mostarda bring a fascinating jolt of flavor to cold slices of lamb's tongue. Wiles combines Italian flavors, common and uncommon, like a master. Da Marco's wine list follows the same cutting-edge Italian theme. Start off with one of the proseccos, those delicious, slightly effervescent white wines from Veneto that are all the rage in Italy right now. Then segue into an off-the-beaten-track Piedmonte red. And please don't come looking for spaghetti and meatballs. This is Italian food for the cognoscenti.

The problem with dining at the Epicure Café is that the well-lit case of desserts beckons during your whole meal. Sure, the lemon chicken is in fact quite lemony and generously seasoned, making your taste buds tingle. And the salads are nicely balanced. But these meals are no match for the legions of cakes, cookies and other sugary delights on display in the dessert case. How can you pay attention to chicken and wild rice when there's cappuccino raspberry cake, tiramisu, Italian cream cake, fruit tarts, pistachio cream cake, marble cheese cake, pistachio cheese cake and other fine European pastries in the same room? The baked goods here are so beautiful, and tasty, that other restaurants buy their desserts from Epicure. You might as well spoil dinner and start with cake, and don't miss the berry lemonade.

Our one reservation about picking this place is that once it's discovered, it might lose some of that tucked-away feel. Its strip center is in the middle of a residential area, anchored by a Hollywood Video. To find it, you have to look for the shaded patio hidden behind a barbecue. At first you might think the place is closed, but if you brave your way through the vine-covered doorway into this snug little eatery, you'll feel like you've entered an authentic little European bistro. They offer a variety of salads, pizza and pastas in addition to regular entrées, like the Toulouse mignon and catfish amandine. But the Sunday brunch menu is the perfect after-church indulgence with Florentine quiche, seafood benedict, salade niçoise, gazpacho and seafood bisque to choose from, and a glass of champagne for the proper accent.

It's hard to find the little white castle with the round tower and black witch's-hat roof unless you're looking for it. It's hidden under some trees on Memorial Drive near Beltway 8; nevertheless, discerning diners from all over the country are turning up here. That's because Indika has already earned a reputation as one of the most innovative Indian restaurants in the United States. Outstanding entrées include duck tandoori in a toasted almond curry served with haricots verts and fluffy white basmati rice, and half a roasted eggplant filled with paneer and cashews. But first try the crab samosas with papaya-ginger chutney, and don't forget to save room for the best nan bread you have ever eaten, served with a spicy side dish of yellow lentils flavored with garlic, ginger and cumin.

Barbecue is messy eatin'. The fewer people to see you go ballistic on ribs, the better. Even though Houston is a drive-thru town, most of us aren't aware the ubiquitous Pappas restaurants offer window service. Try the daily special choice of three meats and two sides for $8.99, and you'll get the sauce and bread alongside, but if you ask nicely, they'll also be happy to pass you pickles, onions, jalapeños and anything else from the condiment bar. You get all the benefits of visiting a barbecue joint without the unseemly public scarfing.

Just as there are food stalls in the mercados in Mexico, there are taco trucks in the parking lot behind the Farmer's Market on Airline Drive. The one in the middle is crowded with well-dressed Mexican-Americans at 1:30 p.m. "Taqueria Tacambaro," it reads in painted letters on the roof. There are stand-up counters mounted on three sides of the back of the truck. They all face a short-order cook named Maria Rojas, who is stuffing gorditas, frying tortillas and chopping meat all at the same time behind sliding glass windows. The taco al pastor is made with spicy pork that is crisped in a skillet and put into two folded-over corn tortillas, which are toasted on the griddle. Roasted jalapeños are a specialty of the "house." Maria Rojas is from Michoacan, and she cooks here just like she would in a stall in the produce market in her hometown.

Yes, it's loud and gimmicky, but they season the food well. The family-style servings, plus the mix of old favorites with moderately interesting dishes, guarantee an option to make almost any palate happy. Finicky kiddies who like their food simple can have the spaghetti bolognese; grown-ups who prefer a little more complexity can try the lemon chicken. And your kids couldn't be any more welcome here, no matter how boisterous they may be. God knows nobody will be able to hear them over the din anyway.

6510 Del Monte, 713-268-1115Nowhere in Houston will you encounter so many deutsch speakers. The daily specials are the thing to order, especially the long-simmered meats. German food usually doesn't sound appealing in the hot summer months, but the cold dishes here are exceptional as well. AnneMarie, the German-born proprietor and head chef of this little eatery next to Roland's Swiss Bakery, makes her own herring salad with a German-style sour cream, apple and onion dressing. Eat it on a slice of chewy sourdough rye bread some steamy afternoon, and then wash it down with a stein of Paulaner Salvator, the dark sweet beer from Munich. You'll think a snowy breeze has blown in from the Alps.

There are several sure signs of a great greasy spoon: Pickup trucks outnumber SUVs, "Texas toast" is a staple food, you feel the need to check your fork for stray remnants; and you leave feeling guilty yet satisfied. The Pig Stand easily meets all the criteria. Piggy No. 7 (yes, others do exist, just not in Houston) opened in 1921. Since then it has served up chicken-fried steak, liver and onions, and Pig Sandwich combos to all walks of life, be they lawyers, Sixth Ward bohemians or visiting executives escaping downtown for a dirty pleasure. Should the restaurant's name ever escape you while slurping a perfectly made chocolate malt, you can simply look around at the numerous pig pictures, figurines and collectibles. Homegrown kitsch is another solid indicator of a true greasy spoon.