Peruvian food is hard to come by in San Antonio, but Leche de Tigre aces both the food and a cool aura for dates and friend nights out. Choclo, a corn with comically large kernels typical for the cuisine, is woven throughout the menu. It’s also served cooked in ceviches and shows up again fried alongside crackly pork belly. The bachiche is one of the most beautiful dishes on the menu. For comfort seekers, the wagyu short rib in rich gravy with potatoes and chaclo, is decadent.

Nothing beats the nostalgia of a thick, chargrilled patty that tastes like a summertime backyard cookout, and these burgers happen to be the best in town. They’re cooked to order and live up to the “juicy” name, and they’re pretty filling for a meal under $15. For the ideal Mr. Juicy experience, add fatty bacon and the wet sauce, which is really just dijon mustard with more bacon mixed in. Also necessary: black pepper-coated french fries and a cookies and cream milkshake.

There’s no wrong answer on this Jewish-Balkan restaurant’s menu, and the $60-per-person tasting gets you a crash course. If you’re going a la carte, these are the musts: feta dip (surprisingly spicy from Fresno peppers) and fire-roasted corn. The lamb and beef dumplings are coated with rich yogurt sauce, and the saffron chicken on a bed of pickled red cabbage nails the best of Mediterranean flavors.

The first thing we noticed about Best Quality Daughter is the irreverence, starting with the classical-looking Chinese art that’s actually flipping us a middle finger. Somewhere in there is a metaphor for the food: something like Asian fusion that folds in Texans’ affinity for cheese in all forms. There are corn cheese spring rolls served with frothy salsa, or mochi-wrapped cheddar hush puppies that ooze with gooey orange goodness.

San Antonio isn’t known for Italian food, but Battalion is the exception. This Southtown spot excels at sauces, from the brown butter that soaks ricotta-stuffed ravioli, to the burst of pomodoro on the charred green beans that should be a required side for any table. The lamb chops come with a white wine sauce that we could eat by the spoonful, and the marinara on the chicken parmesan is at least 10 times more divine than anything jarred.

When you walk into Carnitas Don Raul, which was originally a food truck featured on Netflix’s Taco Chronicles, you’re greeted with a cheat sheet pointing out different parts of the pig. Which is helpful, because the menu is made up almost entirely of carnitas from all over the pig and served in various vessels. Our favorite method of pork delivery is a quesadilla moreliana.

In San Antonio, the only thing more contentious than tacos is BBQ. Reese Bros. tackles both. The line goes out to the street on weekends, so come ready to wait, and grab a spicy michelada from the bar to sip until you get to the cashier. You’ll want a pound of crackly-on-the-outside pork ribs, and a large order of bright green poblano mac and cheese. The sausage is infused with melty queso fundido, and the carnitas compete with some of the best in the city. Don't forget the cobbler.

A five-minute walk from the Alamo, Bohanan’s has the same air of Ol’ San Antonio as the oldest parts of the River Walk. It’s traditional in the sense that you have to put on some sleeves and pants per the dress code, but in return, expect white-tablecloth service where the staff does all but lift the fork to your mouth. The main star is the steak, and it’s worth the price for a filet so good it doesn’t need all the fixings. Afterwards, watch your waiter prepare the rum-spiced bananas flambé.

The portions are huge, so bring your appetite and plenty of friends to share. Start with blistered, garlicky green beans and an egg drop soup that’s more of a meal than an appetizer, loaded with earthy mushrooms and silken tofu. The dongpo pork belly is tender enough to cut with a spoon, and the Spicy & Savory crispy chicken is just that, laced with Sichuan peppercorn and served with a small mountain of dried chilies. Even the lo mein is so flavorful from wok-charred soy sauce.

Whether eaten there or taken away, the food is classic, unfussy Tex-Mex, like chicken-fried steak or brisket tacos. The brisket itself has crispy edges that give way to a tender middle, served on a nearly inch-thick flour tortilla that reminds us of humid Central Texas barbecues. Garcia’s serves up more than two dozen other taco fillings (chorizo and egg is our top pick). The Deluxe Mexican Dinner is the most efficient way to get a taste of everything.

Expectations for a special occasion dinner like Mixtli are sky-high, which is fitting since the restaurant’s name is the Nahuatl word for “cloud.” But the $160-per-person ticket price (not including tax, tip, optional drink pairings, or parking) actually pays off for the fanciest dining experience in the area.

The Korean-leaning menu is small enough that it’s possible to try almost everything with a big enough group, or appetite. The standout starters are toasted milk bread that tastes as fluffy as cartoon bread looks, and razor-thin sliced duck cured with bitter coffee that makes most charcuterie seem paltry in comparison. We also love the fried pork belly with chili oil and ssamjung: complex, nutty, and like little else you’ll find in San Antonio. Just make sure to reserve a table ahead of time.

You’ll need full table participation to order this option called “Feed Me,” and it’s worth the $88 per person. On our most recent visit, we were bowled over from the first course: earthy yellow beets with sour grapefruit and cocoa nibs for a perfect salty-and-sweet balance. Other hits include the sashimi tuna with figs and tortellini in a bright orange carrot sauce. If the mains can be a bit more predictable, the two rounds of dessert end the meal on a high note.

Cullum’s Attaboy reads like an old-school diner, from the waitstaff’s paper hats to the (faux) crystal ice cream dishes. But the option to sip an espresso martini while waiting for a table feels a lot more modern. This French-ish brunch spot serves dishes like escargot along with buttery omelettes and pancakes, and the best way to eat here is to lean into both sides of the menu. Finish off with something suitably classic, like Mom’s Cheesecake served in giant slices with syrup-drenched berries.

In a city where the air conditioning blasts all year long, a comfort-food brunch at Tlahco with autumnal spices is just the thing to warm the body. Start with powdery pink conchas dipped into hot chocolate, or a cup of cafe de olla with cinnamon before digging into pancakes drizzled with cajeta, caramel’s tangy Mexican cousin. On the savory side, the tortilla soup topped with melty panela cheese warms the soul, and the ranchero sauce over eggs is spicy enough to induce a mild buzz.