35 Main Street, Essex Junction 662-1501

The Essex Grill opened in April. Every time I passed it, it appeared to be packed. Very interesting... I finally ate there last week.

The building formerly housed AJ's Kitchen, which has now moved up Railroad Street. Don't expect similar diner-style fare at Essex Grill. While the menu features some of the same comfort food, everything is made on-site, mostly from local products.

Essex Grill is open from 6 a.m. to 9 p.m. I arrived toward the end of their day, around 7 p.m. Diners filled the front deck, eating brightly colored salads and big sandwiches. I was in no danger of leaving hungry. All entrées come with a choice of soup or salad. That night's soup was a thick pea purée, made chunky with thick-cut bacon.

I chose a grass-fed steak from Wood Creek Farm for my entrée (pictured).

1500 Edson Hill Road, Stowe 253-8741

For super-secret reasons that will reveal themselves in next week's paper, I mostly limited myself to eating in last week. For the same super-secret reasons, I was in desperate need of great desserts. One night, there was no choice but to drive 40 minutes to Gracie's for the big guns. I had to get a "Doggie Bag" (pictured).

I don't mean leftovers. I refer to a dessert, that, though it's built for two, could easily inspire snarling and gnashing if anyone else tries to get a taste. Any dessert presented in a pool of double-boiled, salty hot fudge is okay by me. However, this modern marvel consists of a white chocolate bag filled with chocolate mint mousse. The hot fudge lightly melts any bits of white chocolate with which it comes in direct contact. We're talking serious sensuality, here. And they throw a girl a bone — a dog bone, that is. It's a crispy chocolate cookie, ready for dipping in the salty sauce.

Localfolk Smokehouse, 9 Route 17, Waitsfield, 496-5623

I will travel for ribs. A two hour jaunt for pit-smoked meat at Curtis' BBQ in Putney? No biggie. That's why it's a surprise — even to me — that it took me until this weekend to make it to Waitsfield's Localfolk Smokehouse.

The building is a wooden barn with a high ceiling. A moose head wearing an orange top hat hangs near the bar. Even the bathrooms have a unique ambiance, with swinging barn doors and walls painted to resemble a purple-tinged, full-moon-lightened night in Vermont.

The barbecue menu offers three meats — ribs, pulled pork and chicken — all available in small, medium or large sizes. I ordered a medium rib plate and a combo plate with the pulled pork and chicken. Each came with a choice of two sides. Perhaps I made poor choices. Or perhaps the cooks are too focused on flesh.

1439 St-Mathieu, Montréal, Québec, (514) 935-7779

My world revolves around barbecued meat. Kansas City-style pork ribs, Korean bulgogi, Japanese kushiyaki, Hungarian fatanyeros, Bosnian cevapi — you name it, I love it. Somehow, though, I'd never tried Chinese barbecue beyond a sugary skewer on a Pu Pu platter. My visit to Golden Stone in Montréal's China Town 2 changed that this weekend.

The over-the-top cheerful family running the joint took time out from doing tai chi along with the TV to tell me that they come from the northeast of China. Their cuisine, however, spans the regions. I ordered almost entirely from the menu of 18 different skewers, which seemed to have a strong Xinjiang influence. Uyghur food has some of my favorite flavor profiles, a mix of tastes that I generally associate with India, China and Russia, all mixed together. The brochette of beef ($1.25) called to mind a tastier version of my father's interpretation of his Ural-dwelling grandmother's shashlik recipe.

555 Shelburne Road, Burlington 489-5083

I am more than a little obsessed with the business of chain food. Nannerpuss and Uncle O' Grimacey are practically my religious patriarchs. If I weren't a food writer, I would want to work in Research and Development at Friendly's. I'm not kidding. Whenever a fast food joint debuts a new product, I'm the first one in line. How could I not pay the same respect at the grand opening of Vermont's first Buffalo Wild Wings?

Just an hour and a half after opening its doors, the place was packed. I scored a two-top right by the bar, with a view of multiple TVs, showing news and sports. There were also several video games peppered throughout the room, and a digital jukebox. No question, the sports memorabilia-bedecked eatery is a grown-up playground.

To keep with the theme, I ordered a basket of mini corn dogs. The "maximum taste" promised by the menu was delivered in spades. The sweet, texturally complex batter wrapped around juicy little dogs. Honey mustard sauce on the side was creamy, and not so saccharine as to overwhelm the kid-like delight of the dish.

For optimal variety in one entrée, I went with the ribs and boneless wings meal (pictured).

There is a reason the restaurant is not called "Buffalo Wild Ribs." The baby-sized bones held swaths of shrivelled, overcooked meat. Bummer. Next time, I'll stick with the wings.

4 Park Street, Essex Junction 316-3883

Another two days, another two Vermont Restaurant Week meals.Tuesday night it was Bistro Sauce. The meal started with chamomile-scented parsnip soup and a green salad with candied hazelnuts and one big dried date, like a cherry on top. I had been coveting the risotto with guanciale since I got Sauce's Restaurant Week menu. I was not disappointed, though the dish had been modified to include artichokes and lemon zest in place of pickled ramps and fresh herbs. Adobo, full of plump shreds of chicken and hominy, was a sweet-and-sour treat, topped with smoked pepperoncini.

Instead of dessert, the third course offerings included hearty entrées. Slices of LaPlatte Farm steak laid across a bed of creamy garlic mash, sitting in an intense red-wine reduction and a drizzle of Hollandaise. The one complaint: The roasted root veggies included were slightly singed. Nonetheless, the value was incomparable: The steak alone usually goes for $25. For Restaurant Week, that's what I paid for the whole meal. I felt so flush, I splurged on dessert. I highly recommend the elegant bay-leaf ice cream.

15 Center Street, Burlington 802-862-9647

I am taking full advantage of Vermont Restaurant Week. Friday I hit Café Shelburne for three stunning courses of goat cheese ravioli, chicken and buttery wild mushrooms over housemade fettuccine and a ganache of white, milk and dark chocolates, lying in a bath of pistachio cream. Saturday was dinner at the Bluebird Tavern with the panelists from our discussion "Food in the 21st Century" held that morning at the Essex. Sunday night was a revelatory fiesta of high-end Mexican plates at 3 Squares.

Last night, I hit The Daily Planet for an early dinner before helping host Culinary Pub Quiz at Nectar's. Even before menu items hit the table, I gloried in two different breads, a white rosemary-studded one and multigrain, both spread with house-made butter, dotted with big chunks of sea salt.

My party shared all three of the appetizers on offer. Frog Leg Stew was presented amphibian 'n' biscuits-style in a comforting cream sauce with chopped veggies. Buttery toast points floated in the comforting stew in place of biscuits. This was my first taste of frog, the "tastes like chicken" adage holds somewhat true. Imagine three-quarters chicken to one quarter grouper.

70 Essex Way, Essex Junction 764-1413

I have a history with The Essex. For nearly a decade, when I lived in town, my mom, grandma and I had lunch at Butler's at least once a week. We always had a cake from the bake shop in the fridge. Our dog used to cry for the raspberry Charlotte. The place was such a big deal in my world, that I made my boyfriend get a job as a server there. Seriously.

I'm spread a lot thinner with my dining these days, and I had not made it back to Butler's since the New England Culinary Institute stopped using the kitchen as a classroom. I was a little worried. Without strict instruction, would the meals still be as tightly controlled, and therefore, excellent?

I'm pleased to say that some things were the same, others, dare I say, were better. The sourdough bread I've always loved was in full force, but now with warm, close-to-melting butter which somehow stayed in the molded shape of two delicate flowers.

I started with the Handmade Potato Gnocchi appetizer (pictured). I am a gnocchi fiend. I have had it made from practically everything, resulting in every texture. I had never had one like this. As I bit in these little dumplings, fried crisp on the outside, melted as if I were cutting into warm brie. Molten gnocchi? My kind of thing. Better yet, they were presented in ultra-seasonal form with fresh asparagus, wilted sorrel — which appeared to have been plucked from the backyard only moments before — and two meaty little morels. The lemon beurre blanc that tied it all together practically fried the pleasure centers of my brain.

1130 North Avenue, Burlington 658-4148

This may look like a review of a Vietnamese restaurant. It's not. The tiny North End kitchen, which shares a building with a convenience store, is now run by William Workman, better known as Wild Bill. Still Phuong's for now, he's planning on changing the name of the spot to Wild Bill's Western BBQ.

I am a stickler about barbecue. Usually, if it's not competition-quality, I don't care. But Wild Bill's is something of a different animal. Ever wished you had a dad who was a really good home griller and could present you with ribs and picnic-style sides on demand? The paternal and seemingly not-at-all wild Bill is your guy.

The menu is simple. There are chicken, ribs, steak, pork chops and burgers, all in the $10 or less range. My plate of chicken thigh and leg, with crisp, skin-on fries and syrupy sweet baked beans was $5.95. Presented as one plate-filling piece, the bird was meltingly tender, with grill-crisped skin. The barbecue sauce, which appeared to have been slathered on only at the end of cooking was tomato based with a fruity sweetness and just a hint of spice.

The half rack of ribs was also grilled, not smoked. I'm used to seeing baby back or St. Louis pork slabs at restaurants. These monsters were country-style, meaning there was meat from the chop attached for an extra-thick, Flintstone's-like bones. The pork was tender without falling right off the bone. In places, fat along the edges became as pleasingly crisp as a well-executed pork belly.

51 Main Street, Middlebury 388-8209

Sometimes, we do things simply for the love of the game. Visiting 51 Main in Middlebury is one of them. The tapas menu is appealing, but so is the wall packed with board games.

Created by Middlebury College as a wholesome social space for its students, the café is open to the public, and most of its patrons when I visited were more in the parent-of-college-student age range. Many were likely there to enjoy the strains of gypsy jazz outfit, Swing Noire.

The international menu is composed mostly of small plates and nibbles, but diners will find it easy to assemble a hearty meal. We started with the Tapas Platter, a giant square plate filled with North Country chorizo and chicken, basil and sun-dried tomato sausage, along with little glass cups of spanish almonds, pinchos, toasted pita points and chimichurri. The chorizo was extraordinarily mild, but very tasty, as was the chicken sausage. The other offerings were also on the bland side for Spanish food, but still satisfying.