Las olas means "the waves," as in the motto of this new taco and burrito spot in Exeter—"a clean wave of eating." I'm not sure about the metaphor there but I do think it's a breath of fresh ocean air with its bright atmosphere and attitude and simple, fresh, basic Mexican fare.

While there's not much variation, it's quick, inexpensive and very tasty and the daily specials offer sparks of creativity that are well worth a try.

Pesce Blue is my model for a great dining experience and I'm finally getting around to reviewing it since Cliffe Arrand took it over almost two years ago. I don't know what took me so long. I keep yakking about it to everyone as one of my favorites so it's time to let the world know how I feel. The evening goes like this —I have a peach cosmo, all chilly liquid fresh fruit snap with a vodka kick and a blackberry garnish soaking it all up. I order my meal from the gracious, classy staff who keep an appropriately professional distance.

As I was going to dine at Villa Fresca, the new restaurant over in the often missed unless you have a specific reason to go there Rosewood at Rye Plaza, I stopped up to Teen Daughter Avalon's cushy attic lair to ask if she wanted me to bring something back for her dinner.

"I want chicken Parmesan," she declared.

"Well, this place is Italian, but it's not that kind of Italian," I said.
"What?" she exclaimed. "There's more than one kind of Italian?"

Then I launched into a whole lecture about the varieties of Italian food, which she promptly tuned out.

I watch the door when people come into a restaurant and I'm always surprised at how anxious people look when they step up to a host/ess podium for the first time. I can see them wonder if their name is on the reservation list, if this restaurant will make them feel welcome, if they'll feel good at the end. They really don't know what to expect. I get that.

The only thing cooler than eating in a cafeteria when you're a grown-up is eating in an Automat. Sadly, except for a few retro automats in New York they don't exist anymore.

Any restaurant in a college or university town is going to bring back some memories for those of us who've been through our four years of higher learning, but Franz's Food accomplishes this more than most.

I did two years at a small liberal arts school out in Ohio before running out of dough and then going on to another six years of waiting tables and running off to exotic lands while working on my undergrad degree at the New Jersey equivalent of UNH — Rutgers — where joints like Franz's were the best places to go before, after or during class, noted for good burgers and dogs, but here also for some healthier stuff with a good array of vegetarian selections. Oh, and it's in a Laundromat so you can do your wash while you eat.

The menu at Ristorante Massimo reads like a food lover's libretto, the names of the dishes deliciously Italian, the pronunciation liltingly musical — aragosta e avocado, tonno due sensi — followed by a short work of explanatory culinary lit. That aragosta e avocado becomes butter poached Maine lobster with tarragon scented with red bliss potatoes; layered with an avocado tuille and mousse, finished with spicy honey-Kaffir lime glaze, maybe too much to handle verbally but the resultant orchestration on the plate is an aria of flavor.

Indeed, the whole experience of this restaurant engulfs one into a gourmand's opera, a seamless, harmonious composition of atmosphere, service and fine Italian cuisine rooted in local New England ingredients. End of music metaphor.

Foodies like to brag about the "authentic" ethnic food we find, sometimes to the point of pretentiousness.

It goes something like this: "You think that's real Cambodian food? No man, you haven't had real Cambodian food until you've tried this little place in Queens. You have to go down this alley — no street name — and walk into a storefront for a dress shop and walk into the back through a curtain. Say I sent you. There are maybe four tables.

Geno's has been around for more than 40 years. There are pictures of George W. and Barbara on the walls — friends of the family — and those in the know pull up in their boats, dock and come in for a simple meal of chowder, lobster rolls and burgers. Tourists strolling around perusing the old homes stop in too, and since I live right in the area near Prescott Park and run by it nearly every day in my effort to stave off the restaurant critic weight, I'm kicking myself that I hadn't been there before a few weeks ago.

It was just a scant few months ago that I was complaining that despite having a relatively large Greek and Greek-American population on the Seacoast there wasn't much in the way of Greek cuisine other than our great festivals once in a while.

Well, I can kvetch no more (on that topic at least). Now we have some Greek fare at Steve's Diner in Exeter, will soon have more in Hampton at Brothers North, and now have Café Nostimo, open only six weeks or so and already a very popular casual spot with great Greek fare, a friendly attitude, and pastries so good that even I save room for dessert.

While I was sitting in Ron Jillian's cozy dining area in the lounge, I had a childhood memory flashback to my grandfather taking us to a place in Jersey where we lived called Conti's.

Red vinyl booths, lots of dark wood and a crowd that was fun, lively and made you feel like we were a part of some large Italian family, even if no one in the room was Italian. Ron Jillian's is just like that, with simple Italian food, pizzas and a comfortable vibe that gets folks in to celebrate being a part of the neighborhood.

Biddeford, Maine, is only 32 miles from Portsmouth and a fairly straight shot up 95 so it's really not that far to go for something we don't have on the Seacoast — authentic Vietnamese food. Heck, we don't have any at all. So, either take a drive up to try out this rustic, unassuming little spot on Main Street or do what I did — go up to Whole Foods in Portland (also right off the highway and only 18 miles north of Biddeford) and buy enough stuff you can't find around here to last you months then stop off at Que Huong for some pho. Better yet, engage in some gastrotourism and go up to Portland on a Friday night, dine at Hugo's, stay at the Portland Harbor Hotel, go to Whole Foods on Saturday morning and then stop off at Que Huong for lunch. That's the plan.

When The Dolphin Striker dramatically changed its menu and, as a result, its whole look and feel about four years ago, it went from one of those same old touristy lobster spots — albeit a good-looking one — to one of those restaurants we now tout as being on the cutting edge of the whole farm-to-table, farm-to-chef, Slow Food, Eat Local wave.

Get this — chef Gary Caron has been doing that stuff for many years, long before we started using those terms in all of our food writing forays and dinner party chit-chat. Making dishes from scratch, sometimes for days, using locally produced ingredients is a part of Caron's culinary landscape and it pays off in elegant, delicious comfort food that makes you feel good about what you're experiencing.

Michelin, the company that rates all those restaurants all over the globe in its little red books, has just come out with a guide to Tokyo and apparently there is much controversy and criticism about it, especially from Japanese chefs.

"How can you Westerners judge our cuisine?", they say.

I'm paraphrasing, but that's the gist. Indeed, the cuisines of other countries can be difficult for us to wrap our palates around, especially some of the more esoteric of Japan's culinary offerings.

There's a cozy little restaurant like Phat Cats in just about every town around. I could name them all right now—Anneke Jans in Kittery, Hagan's in Hampton, 11 Water Street and the Tavern in Exeter, Zampa in Epping—and so on. It's the neighborhood bistro with good food, good drinks and especially the friendly family vibe in which locals love to bask. It's one of those places that you might not get into your car and drive say, 20 miles to, because you have one sort of like it in your own town, but it's definitely worth a trip at least once or twice and with Phat Cats, many times if you happen to live in Amesbury or thereabouts.

A tremendous amount of meat. That's what any good BBQ joint is about—rubbed, smoky, slow-cooked, shredded and sauced meat and here at the new Mojo's, a little "shack" on Islington Street, sauce is king, namely co-founder "Moe" Buckley's sweet with heat Arkansawce, something of a cult fave here in the wilds of New England. The menu is simple: brisket, pulled pork, ribs, chicken, but each has its own character with rubs and sauces to complement each cut and traditional homemade sides to go with it — all on the cheap, the most expensive meal is $18.99 for a three-way combo of chicken, ribs and beef brisket but most meals with two sides and cornbread go in the $8 to $12 range with sides of brisket for just $4.99 and on it goes.

The Cape Neddick in is back. Lest there is some confusion, the restaurant was Talpey's for a few years before going back to the Cape Neddick Inn name under new owner David Heavner and Chef Michael Arnesen, and they've also brought back the former charm of the old place with subdued décor, cozy dining spaces — one more formal, one a low-key tavern — both with comforting and lovely stone fireplaces. It has the feel of a roadhouse you'd stumble on while getting lost in the countryside and then be oh so happy you found the place so you could come in have a glass of wine and try some of the simple, yet interesting cuisine here that doesn't get crazy, but with infusions of creativity in basic, comforting American fare.

There are so many good restaurants around here I do tend to avoid the chain spots, desirous as I am of supporting local independent businesses, but the reality of it all is that many people love the chain, in part, I think, because there are rarely any surprises. There's a place for that of course, but Ruby Tuesday actually did surprise me in some respects, namely the good salad bar, the juicy burger and the fact that I can sit my butt in my car and have someone bring out my To Go order.

There's something about a good old N.J. style Greek diner with meatloaf platters, eggs any which way and sky-high lemon meringue pies. Steve's is a bit like one of those shiny diners — heck, he even took the old Pizza Hut in Exeter and put some gleaming silver on it, old-school diner style. For the most part, the fare here is diner style with pancakes, waffles, eggs, burgers and sandwiches but — to my delight — there's also Greek food in the form of pita wraps, gyros and spinach pie, dishes we rarely see around here despite the Seacoast's large Greek population.

With sports bars you get deep-fried food and burgers for the most part, but while TJ's is a true sports bar with all the flat screen TVs and Bud Light promos on game day, it has something a little different — tapas.

Yes, the little bites associated with hip Spanish cuisine are here on a special menu, in addition to some other exotic selections like a Cuban sandwich and a crispy spring roll. But all food aside, TJ's is first and foremost a place to hang out and drink beer while watching the game.