If you love prime rib, come here. If you could take or leave prime rib, Lawry's will turn you into a believer. Lawry's does one thing, and it does it better than anyone else. Lawry's first opened in Los Angeles in 1938 and remains a popular tradition. Over the years, they have added three branches; the most recent landed in Las Vegas at the beginning of 1997. Yes, you can get prime rib all over town for under $5. But, to mix a food metaphor, that's a tuna sandwich when you can have caviar at Lawry's.

The meal is full of ceremony, perfectly delivered by a well-trained and cordial waitstaff. Salads, included in the price, are prepared at your table, from a cart full of choices. In Vegas style, though, most choices are on the calorie-intensive side, ranging from chopped egg and bleu cheese to pine nuts and bay shrimp. Still, with a honey-orange-walnut vinaigrette, it's good enough to consider paying the $14 a la carte fee and just sticking with it. Unfortunately, the main courses are not all that novel (various cuts of meat, seafood, and chicken prepared in different ways) but on a recent visit, not one of six diners was anything less than delighted. The filet of beef stuffed with crabmeat and wrapped with bacon is over the top for us, but others loved it, while the roast duckling rubbed with anise and flambéed at the table is a guilty pleasure, just the right effect for this Old School Vegas dining experience. The T-bone steak was tender enough to cut with a fork. Vegetables and excellent starchy sides are included, as is a finish of chocolate-dipped fruits with cream.

You will start off with homemade chips and a spicy salsa served in a mortar. Meals are so large that it shouldn't be a problem getting full just ordering off the sides, which can make this even more of a budget option. Naturally, the specialty is the fantastic tamales, which come in red, green, cheese, or sweet. They also serve up excellent enchiladas, chiles rellenos, burritos, and fajitas. All dinners include rice, beans, tortillas, and soup or salad. Sauces are heavy but oh-so-good. For dessert, they have flan, fried ice cream, and Mexican-style pumpkin pie.

Texas chauvinism and eco-consciousness come together at Zoot to produce a cuisine that's creative, fresh, and delicious. This cozy Enfield restaurant, set in a 1920s cottage, was one of the first in Austin to use only organic vegetables and to design its dishes around ingredients grown in the local area. Appetizers such as the orange-sesame marinated beef satay show an Asian influence, but the backbone of the menu, which changes seasonally, is its new takes on American standards. The presentations are always gorgeous and the setting is soothing, but the prices don't reflect the fact that the tech boom is over. Eating here was once a weekend treat, but now it's likely to call for an occasion more special than Friday's arrival.

Still one of Austin's trendiest restaurants, Vespaio doesn't quite draw the long lines that it did when it first opened in the late 1990s, but the weird policy for reservations -- they're accepted only for early hours on off-days -- ensures that the see-and-be-seen bar is always packed. The swanked-up old storefront with lots of exposed brick and glass is a fun setting, and the food is worth waiting for, but you can drop quite a bit of dough on expensive wines while you're doing so. Best bet: Get an order (they're huge) of the crispy calamari while you're waiting for a table. The spaghetti alla carbonara is super, as is the veal scallopine with mushrooms. In the mood for a go-for-baroque pizza? Try the boscaiola, topped with wild boar sausage and Cambozola cheese.

If you want a hit of music history along with heaping plates of down-home food at good prices, this Austin institution is for you. When Kenneth Threadgill obtained Travis County's first legal liquor license after the repeal of Prohibition in 1933, he turned his Gulf gas station into a club. His Wednesday night hootenannies were legendary in the 1960s, with performers like Janis Joplin turning up regularly. In turn, the Southern-style diner that was added on in 1980 became renowned for its huge chicken-fried steaks, as well as its vegetables. You can get fried okra, broccoli-rice casserole, garlic-cheese grits, and black-eyed peas in combination plates or as sides -- and seconds are free.

It's 11 1/2 miles from the junction of 290 West and FM 1826 (turn right) to The Salt Lick, but you'll start smelling the smoke during the last 5 miles of your trip. Moist chicken, beef, and pork, as well as terrific homemade pickles -- not to mention the pretty, verdant setting -- more than justify the drive. You're faced with a tough decision here: If you indulge in the all-you-can-eat family-style platter of beef, sausage, and pork ribs, you might have to pass on the fresh-baked peach cobbler, which would be a pity. In warm weather, seating is outside at picnic tables under oak trees; in winter, fireplaces blaze in a series of large, rustic rooms. Unlike many Texas barbecue places, The Salt Lick prides itself on its sauce, which has a sweet-and-sour tang. If you like your barbecue with a brew, you'll need to tote your own in a cooler; Hays County is dry.

This is where Austinites like to take out-of-town guests at sunset: From the 40 multilevel decks nestled into the hillside hundreds of feet above Lake Travis, visitors and locals alike cheer -- with toasts and applause -- as the fiery orb descends behind the hills on the opposite bank. No one ever leaves unimpressed -- by the sunset. Food is another matter entirely; don't let anyone tell you that it has improved. Although different owners have tried over the years, so far no one has succeeded. Keep it simple -- nachos, burgers -- and you'll be okay. Then add a margarita, and kick back. It doesn't get much mellower than this.

Fish is the prime bait at this tony grill, which looks out over Town Lake and the Congress Avenue Bridge, but in late spring through early fall, bats run a close second. During this period, when thousands of Mexican free-tailed bats emerge in unison from under the bridge at dusk, patio tables for viewing the phenomenon are at a premium.

If your idea of comfort food involves chiles, don't pass up Shady Grove. The inside dining area, with its Texas kitsch roadhouse decor and cushy booths, is plenty comfortable, but most people head for the large, tree-shaded patio when the weather permits. After a day of fresh air at nearby Zilker Park, a hearty bowl of Freddie's Airstream chili might be just the thing. All the burgers are made with high-grade ground sirloin, and if you've never had a Frito pie (Fritos topped with Airstream chili and cheese), this is the place to try one. Large salads -- among them, noodles with Asian vegetables -- or the hippie sandwich (grilled eggplant, veggies, and cheese with pesto mayonnaise) will satisfy the less carnivorous. The quintessential laid-back Austin restaurant, it naturally has live music on the patio from April through October (except during Aug).

An aquatic-oriented color scheme, ocean-inspired artwork, and a menu heavy on seafood make for a hip, tropical dining experience far from any beach. Right on the main strip of downtown's popular warehouse district, this bar and restaurant boasts distinctive Asian/Caribbean/Mexican fusion fare, with an emphasis on light "bites." You can graze your way through the likes of seaweed-wrapped tuna pieces flash-fried and served with a delightful honey-wasabi sauce, cilantro-pork-and-shrimp potstickers, or masa-fried oyster tostadas. Not satisfied with smaller dishes? Saba also serves up enticing entrees like mahimahi with lemon grass cream and pineapple rice or calypso pork tenderloin with roasted sweet potatoes. The drinks tend towards the tropical, too. The mojitos are excellent but don't have too many of them, lest you find yourself getting overenthusiastic about the tapas; too many can easily move your tab into the expensive range.

This pizzeria does a thriving delivery business, but unless the place where you're staying has a large pecan tree growing in its center, it's a lot more interesting to place your order at the counter and then eat at one of the colorful glass-topped tables painted in Roman mosaic style. Pastas such as cannelloni stuffed with chicken, Italian sausage, ricotta, mozzarella, and provolone, and doused in tomato cream sauce are not only delicious, but also bargain priced. The pizzas are billed as offering "the most toppings in Austin, " and with selections like hamburger, jalapeno pesto, and smoked bacon, who would doubt it? The lunch specials -- a dinner salad plus a large slice with three toppings -- are a real deal at $5.50 ($6.50 if you want your salad to speak Greek).

This place has the freshest, best prepared sushi in town and every Austin aficionado knows it -- which is why, in spite of its inauspicious location (on the southbound access road of Mo-Pac in northwest Austin) and less-than-stunning setting (beneath a Chinese restaurant called Chinatown), it's always jammed. A combination of Musashino's local star status and its policy of not accepting reservations means you're likely to have to wait awhile for a table, especially on Friday and Saturday nights. If you don't mind not having the entire menu at your disposal, the cozy upstairs area, which has a sushi bar and table service, but a shorter menu, is a good substitute. Be sure to ask your server what's special before you order; delicacies not listed on the regular menu are often flown in.

One of the first restaurants to open in the now chic warehouse district, the dimly lit, buzzy Mezzaluna is still ahead of the pack (and always packed). The menu is a tad trendy -- goat cheese and white truffle essence turn up several times -- but mostly mixes fairly familiar Italian dishes with some you won't see on many menus: a starter of carciofini al forno, herb-baked artichoke hearts, say, or lasagna made with smoked chicken rather than the traditional chopped beef. The wood-fired pizzas make a nice light meal; heartier specialties range from a rich fusilli del Nonna with grilled chicken and Gorgonzola cream to a beef tenderloin done in a Chianti reduction. An exclusively Italian selection of wines by the glass introduces diners to interesting bottles, too.

An oldie but a goodie. Lyndon Johnson hadn't been serving in the U.S. Senate very long when Matt's El Rancho first opened its doors. Although owner Matt Martinez outlived LBJ and other early customers, plenty of his original patrons followed when he moved his restaurant south of downtown in 1986. They came not out of habit, but because Matt (and now his son, Matt, Jr.) has been dishing up consistently tasty food since 1952. <br> Some of the items show the regulars' influence. For instance, you can thank former land commissioner Bob Armstrong for the tasty cheese, guacamole, and spiced-meat dip that bears his name. Chiles rellenos and grilled shrimp seasoned with garlic and soy are perennial favorites. Although the place can seat almost 500, you might still have to wait for an hour on weekend nights. Just lounge out on the terrace, sip a fresh lime margarita, and chill. The new branch at the Austin airport is not as atmospheric, nor is the menu as extensive, but you'll get a taste of what draws the crowds to this relatively untouristy (for the time being, anyway) part of town.

This funky family-owned Mexican diner, decked out with local artwork and colorful booths and tables, is an Austin classic; don't leave town without checking it out. A rack of alternative newspapers at the door sets the political tone, but businesspeople and slackers alike pile into this small place for breakfasts of migas con queso (eggs scrambled with corn tortillas, cheddar cheese, and ranchero sauce) or chilaquiles verdes (tortilla strips topped with green tomatillo sauce, Jack cheese, and onions). The delicious refried beans are prepared with bacon but, this being Austin, most of the rest of the food is cooked in canola or olive oil; vegetarian items are highlighted, and smoothies as well as Mexican soft drinks and beers share the menu.

eating in Jeffrey's is an Austin experience you shouldn't miss: Politicos (Dems as well as Republicans), celebs, and regular folks turn up at this former storefront in artsy Clarksville wearing everything from T-shirts to tuxes. And the food is often dazzling, with flavors and textures that dance wildly together without tripping. Appetizers might include the likes of a morel mushroom soufflé with pistachios and Armagnac chervil cream and -- a signature dish that never leaves the menu -- crispy oysters topped with habanero honey aioli. Venison and foie gras in puff pastry with chestnut sherry sauce was among the entree successes on a recent menu. Desserts such as Chocolate Intemperance live up to their diet-destroying promise, and the wine list is outstanding.

If you're game for game, served in a very civilized setting, come to Hudson's. Soft candlelight, fresh flowers, fine china, and attentive service combine with outstanding and out-of-the-ordinary cuisine to make this worth a special-occasion splurge. Sparkling lights draped over a cluster of oak trees draw you into a series of romantic dining rooms, set in an old house some 1 1/2 miles southwest of the Mansfield Dam, near Lake Travis. The chipotle cream sauce was sufficiently spicy so that it was hard to tell whether Omar's rattlesnake cakes tasted like chicken. But they were very good, as were the duck and liver pâté starters. Pecan-smoked prime rib and a mixed grill of venison, rabbit, quail, and buffalo are among the excellent entrees I've sampled; there's also a superb trout served with tangy mango-habanero butter. Although portions are more than generous, a slice of Key lime pie with graham-cracker crust is a good finisher.

One of the row of low-priced, friendly restaurants that line Barton Springs Road just east of Zilker Park, Chuy's stands out for its determinedly wacky decor -- hubcaps lining the ceiling, Elvis memorabilia galore -- and its sauce-smothered Tex-Mex food. You're not likely to leave hungry after specials like Southwest enchiladas, piled high with smoked chicken and cheese and topped with a fried egg; or a huge sopapilla stuffed with grilled sirloin. This has been a local landmark since 2001, when Jenna Bush got busted here for underage drinking.

This is a bit of local history, the original of the County Line chain, opened in 1975. Some critics deride these smoked meat outlets for their "suburban" barbecue, but Austinites have voted with their feet (or, rather, their cars). The crowds have lessened somewhat since this restaurant started opening for lunch, but if you don't get here before 6pm for dinner, you can wait as long as an hour to eat. Should this happen, sit out on the deck and soak in the views of the Hill Country, or look at the old advertising signs hung on the knotty-pine planks of this 1920s roadhouse, formerly a speakeasy and a brothel. In addition to the barbecue -- oh-so-slowly-smoked ribs, brisket, chicken, or sausage -- skewered meat or vegetable plates are available.