The Miami Winter 25

Fondue is a dying art in this city. But a new restaurant in Little Haiti, inspired by the Bavarian Alps in Germany, makes one worth your time. Cuckoo Clock’s käsefondue comes in an adorable mini Le Creuset dutch oven with a side of cubed bread inside a mug. Hopefully it doesn’t trigger any bad memories of high school dates at The Melting Pot.

The food at Tigre is fine, but the manatee-spotting opportunities are exquisite—particularly during the winter months, when these sea spuds are commuting up and down Little River like they’re late to something. Come for Sunday brunch, when visibility is best. Sit outside, and listen for the distinctive snort of the manatees coming up for air.

Ice skating around the Kendall Ice Arena to “Let It Go” is it for Miami winter sports. And the closest place to channel the spirit of après-ski after axels and lutzes is Strange Beast—with a beer and a spicy Incan pizza. Karaoke nights on Thursdays feel like a house party, and there’s ice cream from Sweet Melody next door.

The Commodore has deep leather chairs, men in suits watching football, and classic cocktails perfect for sipping next to the only functioning fireplace we know of in Miami. It’s inside the Ritz Carlton Coconut Grove, has a daily Happy Hour from 5-7pm, and the whole place smells like bergamot and charred wood.

These chocolate makers have two hot chocolate options at their miniscule shop that you’ve driven by 1,000 times. There’s the lighter, more drinkable “gringo hot chocolate” and the “European hot chocolate,” which is so thick you almost need a spoon to eat it. Both come in little espresso cups, but they’re so rich that’s more than enough.

Bless the early birds in this eternally late city. You people have earned the beautiful sunrises most of us sleep right through. So go to Moises around 6:45am, get a Venezuelan empanada fresh from the oven, and walk it across the street, where you’ll almost certainly have the beach (and the sun) entirely to yourself.

One of the most underrated sunset views can be found on the roof of Miami’s best food hall. Perhaps it’s thanks to the refreshing lack of skyscrapers surrounding it, but The Citadel is so much prettier than you might imagine around 5pm, and the natural light is going to do wonders to your carbonara from Borti.

Miami, have you heard of “taking a walk?” Judging by all these cars, probably not. But the joy of a long stroll down the Miami Beach boardwalk on a gorgeous day is boundless. And the only thing that can make that stroll better is the kafta wrap and a rose water from The Wrapper, a Lebanese spot just across the street from the boardwalk.

One of winter’s greatest joys is being able to walk outside after a fresh haircut and not immediately be reduced to frizz by humidity. Celebrate the intactness of your new bangs at Pastis, one of our favorite see-and-be-seen spots. Have your martini and cheeseburger at the outdoor table while you give the sun the middle finger.

Mourn the loss of La Palma over a dozen thick Cuban churros as long as the basket they’re in (and only $3). Each is dusted in sugar and should absolutely be dipped into a cup of hot chocolate. Just don’t expect thick Spanish hot chocolate—think more Swiss Miss, which gets absorbed by the churros instead of coating them.

Life is so much better in a palapa. If dentists operated out of them, we'd look forward to root canals. And one of our favorite new ones is Louie’s, a rare Mid-Beach option that doesn’t exist only to serve tourists. This outdoor Cuban spot has a great Cuban sandwich, smashburger, and is a mere 15 yards from the sand.

Remember that traumatizing Campbell commercial where a snowman melts into a child over a bowl of soup? This steaming red pozole with mounds of pork shoulder and white hominy has a similar effect. Enjoy it during a cold front, and you’ll feel like a baby chinchilla buried neck deep in sand on a summer beach day.

Before you unfurl that plaid blanket in a picturesque park, you need to swing by Chèvre. This place is to picnic supplies what Ñooo Que Barato is to reasonably priced underwear. You’re mostly coming here for an excellent variety of cheese, but there’s also tinned fish, crackers, sandwiches, and outstanding Basque cheesecake.

You’re making the pilgrimage for Knaus Berry cinnamon buns at some point this winter. But warm up your stomach with the best tacos in the county. La Pasadita is just 15 minutes away and has tripe tacos that are crackly and juicy. It even has a speedy drive-thru, since you’re about to stand in line for two hours.

Winter in Miami is food festival season, and we are undeniably biased towards one in particular: EEEEEATSCON. The Infatuation food festival comes to Bayfront Park On February 3rd and 4th for the first time, with headliners like Tam Tam, Maty's, KG BBQ, The Infatuation Miami crew (hi, I can't wait to see you), and stand-up from SNL’s Marcello Hernandez.

Surprise. All your friends want to visit Miami in the winter. Good thing Hometown Barbecue still gets the job done for a big group dinner that no one bothered to plan. They take reservations but the huge warehouse space is always walk-in friendly. Plus, the tasty cocktails should keep those who went too hard on the brisket from yawning.

There’s no better place to celebrate the start of our strawberry season than in Homestead, which probably has the highest milkshake density in South Florida, if they measured such a thing. But the one at Robert Is Here is the very best. It’s filled with fresh local strawberries, and thick enough that drinking one qualifies as a cheek workout.

Chug’s is here to save the day—if, you just realized upon walking outside, that day is unexpectedly gorgeous. Instead of trying to bribe the host at Mandolin, go to Chug’s courtyard, which requires no reservation and works great for breakfast (get the pancake), lunch (get the blue cheese frita), or dinner (get whatever, it’s all good).

By March, the average Miamian has interacted with approximately 4,256,491 tourists. So if you’re craving an excellent dinner with a low chance of snowbirds in the dining room, head west (like, very west) to Smoke & Dough. This spot makes distinctly Miami barbecue with flavors designed to trigger core memories for folks who grew up here.

Put on your best white gloves and English accent—it’s time for high tea at the Tea Room in Cauley Square. For $40, you’ll get to sip darjeeling from floral tea cups and eat soup, finger sandwiches, and scones from tiered trays. It’s also the perfect place to bring your kid who’s memorized the dialogue of Alice In Wonderland’s tea party.

Instead of waiting till November for the opportunity to make another Thanksgiving leftovers sandwich, just grab the next best thing: an Elena Ruz from Versailles’ ventanita. It’s stuffed with turkey, cream cheese, strawberry jam, and a side of heated political debates happening all around you—just like the holidays at home.

After getting whiplash while taking in the beauty of whatever's left of this wondrous land of alligators, you’ll be hungry. So drive ten minutes to Vice City, one of last year’s best new restaurants, for the brie and fig pizza and a cocktail called, “I’m not driving to the Everglades for a pizza.”

If we asked a dog to write a guide to Miami’s classic restaurants (and don’t think we haven’t tried), Lokal would no doubt be on the list. This Grove burger spot has always proudly had a dedicated dog menu featuring chicken and rice, meatloaf, and “chew-gars.” And yes, we have snuck a few bites from our dog before. It’s good.

There’s a constant stream of sweaty bikers in padded shorts at this Key Biscayne bakery. And they’re all refueling with giant cinnamon rolls and croissants filled with ham and cheese. These will give you the energy you need to get back home—because walking your bike up the Rickenbacker is never a good look.

Throughout winter, Miami’s population balloons by four zillion percent. We made that up, but if it’s starting to feel true to you, go have a mercifully quiet lunch at Miami’s best low-key sushi spot. Get there 10 minutes before they open to avoid the wait, and eat uni at the crisp, white sushi counter while silent chefs slice fish.