The name refers to its location on the top floor of the Reunion Grande hotel. Great views of distant theme park fireworks, and good steaks to boot.

Fiorenzo, the Hyatt Regency Orlando restaurant formerly known as Fiorenzo Italian Steakhouse, has emerged from its monthslong renovation. Even though it shortened its name, it is still Italian and you can still get a good steak. With the reopening of the restaurant, Jared Gross, who made the hotel’s Urban Tide seafood restaurant a destination for locals, has taken the role of chef de cuisine at Fiorenzo. There wasn’t a thing wrong with the food here before, but with Gross’s direction I expect it to soar.

When it’s on its game, Fleming’s can produce steaks as good as anyone’s. The atmosphere isn’t quite as posh as a Ruth’s Chris, and it isn’t as clubby as Del Frisco’s, but it’s quite pleasant and relaxing. A newer location recently opened on Restaurant Row Orlando, at 8030 Via Dellagio Way. Phone 407-352-5706. If you don’t want to commit to a full meal’s calories or price, consider a meal in the bar area, where a burger (not available in the dining room) is the thing to order.
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The Restaurant Row Fleming’s does a nice job with its steaks, but it has a big following for its happy hour, which includes a terrific burger at a killer price. Wines are a forte here, so spend a little of what you save on the bar snacks for something special from the grape.

Fogo de Chao means fire of the ground, and although you’ll want to pronounce the last word in the name chow, it’s actually pronounced shoun. Chow fits better because, like all other churrascarias, it’s all about the food and lots — LOTS — of it.  
The experience begins with the salad bar, a designation that really doesn’t do justice to the array of foods splayed out. The salad bar sits in the center of the main dining room beneath massive rings of light fixtures that looks as thought they’re fashioned out of alabaster (they’re not). Physically, the bar is gorgeous: granite counter with a thick glass top that serves as the inelegantly named sneeze guard. Atop it are two colorful sprays of decorative flowers. Glass platters sit atop crushed ice and hold such things as artichoke bottoms, salami, prosciutto, sun-dried tomatoes, hearts of palm, thick stalks of asparagus, smoked salmon, aged Manchego and Parmesan cheeses, breads, and, since it is a salad bar after all, numerous greens and accoutrements. Novices make the mistake of filling up on the salad bar goodies, and it is an easy thing to do when everything is so attractive, not to mention tasty. (The smoked salmon and the prosciutto were my favorites.) But you’ll want to save considerable room for the meats that will be coming your way. They include top sirloin, bottom sirloin, ribeye, beef ribs, lamb chops and leg of lamb, chicken, sausage and pork tenderloin. (Interestingly, the only seafood offered is the salmon on the salad bar.) These are delivered to your table by the gauchos, the men (I’ve never seen women in the position) who move swiftly through the dining rooms dressed in the manner of South American cowboys. The meats are still on the skewers they were cooked on, and the gauchos slice the meats or slide whole cuts off the skewers and onto the guests’ plates. (There’s a set of tongs for you to grab the slice as it’s cut.) The meats come at you with alarming speed. If you feel overwhelmed, simply turn the green disk that sits at your table setting over so that the red side is facing up. That signals the gauchos to pass your table. Want more? Turn the green side back up and they’ll start swarming around your table again like buzzards on carrion.

It truly is an elegant restaurant, a little bit of Manhattan chic on Restaurant Row. Especial attention has been paid to the lighting, which is moody and low. And banquettes, booths and chairs at freestanding tables are plush and comfortable.

Chef Michael McMullen has reenergized this upscale dining room with a new menu. Favorites include spicy shrimp and grits, maple horseradish mustard crusted baby rack of lamb, and cedar plank roasted sea bass. Service is among the best in town. The highlight of the dining room is the array of celebrity caricatures that cover the walls. They were done by Jack Rosen, father of hotelier Harris Rosen (hence the name of the restaurant), when he was employed by the Waldorf Astoria in New York.

The knife of the name is an actual knife, a rather impressive Sambonet in this case, and signifies the steak specialty of the menu. Given the quality of the meat, however, an instrument with such a honed blade might be considered – you should pardon the expression – overkill. But we’ll come back to that.

The spoon of the name is not a spoon, or at least not a spoon found on polite tables. Instead, it references a fishing lure known as a spoon, which then leads to the seafood offerings. (More ancient mariners would tell you to look for largemouth bass, salmon or trout on a list of spoon-caught fish, but I saw none; it’s a clever name nonetheless.)

In the 15 or so times I’ve been to France, I’ve never once come across La Boucherie, which, on the website for the chain’s first U.S. location, now open in Orlando, claims to be “France’s most popular steakhouse.”

So I can’t attest to how the experience of the Orlando restaurant compares to one in Paris. Or Morocco, Russia or Thailand for that matter. I wonder if they use the same ridiculously flimsy napkins, and if so why. Or if their menus have garish photographs like you’d see in a 24-hour diner. Or trite phrases in menu descriptions like “Need ‘oui’ say more?”, which doesn’t really make sense.

Canada was always one of the odd-countries-out among the World Showcase’s pavilions of nations in terms of its restaurant. The problem was that Canada doesn’t really have a national cuisine. Meat is the forte. “Well then, there you go,” someone finally concluded, “make the restaurant a steakhouse.” And with that, Le Cellier became one of the more sought-after restaurants at Epcot. Steaks are good; appetizers are minimal. Nothing here really warrants the sort of rabid fandom the restaurant enjoys. It’s food is mostly modest, which is probably why it is so loved by average diners.
Update: Le Cellier was recently designated one of Disney’s “Signature” dining restaurants, which supposedly puts it in the top tier. It doesn’t quite make it in my book.
The atmosphere is dark and secluded – hello, it’s called The Cellar – and was designed to have no views of the outside. Disney officials thought park-goers might appreciate getting away from it all.