What’s
new.

Family-owned live bait and tackle shop right on US-27 in Lake Placid — the actual road the 27 Run is named for. Live bait, tackle, gear, and the local read on what's biting where. Open every day 6a–6p — early enough to grab shiners before the water gets hot, late enough for after-work rod runs. Small-town shop; counter conversation is half the value.

Seaside seafood shack on A1A a few miles south of downtown Flagler Beach — since 1947, one of the oldest continuously operating beach dives on Florida's Atlantic coast. Wild-caught seafood, southern-fried baskets, and organic options coexist on the menu; Coastal Living once named it one of America's great seafood dives. Crab cakes, flounder sandwiches, shrimp, scallops, and the spiced shrimp platter are the standing orders. Cold beer, casual patio, complimentary valet pulling off the A1A Scenic & Historic Coastal Byway. Closed Wednesdays and Thursdays — the schedule to remember.

Seventeen acres at the exact southern tip of Miami Beach, wrapping the mouth of Government Cut — the shipping channel every cruise ship out of PortMiami threads before hitting open water. Free public park with a 450-foot pier (bait stations, fish-cleaning sinks, seating), a splash pad and playground on the interior lawns, and a paved promenade running north to the Ocean Drive beach. Smith & Wollensky occupies the tip if you want a steakhouse view; otherwise it is all bench-and-thermos country. Locals show up at dawn for pier fishing and at dusk for the ship parade.

Cuban lunch counter opened by Cuban-American exiles in 1962 and still going on the same Collins Avenue corner sixty-plus years later — one of the few genuine old-guard holdouts in a stretch that has been renovated into anonymity a dozen times over. Formica counters, vinyl booths, a three-dimensional Haydee Scull folk-art mural of a Havana street scene painted on the back wall in 1979. The kitchen turns out ropa vieja, masitas de puerco fritas, and the pressed Cubano the way South Beach was eating them before Ocean Drive became a runway.

A working museum of the modern age housed in a 1927 Mediterranean Revival storage building that Mitchell Wolfson Jr. bought and turned into a 200,000-object archive — propaganda posters, industrial-design prototypes, decorative arts, rare books, furniture, all dating 1850 to 1950. Now run by Florida International University. The strength is what most museums won't touch: political persuasion objects, transportation graphics, world's-fair ephemera, the material culture of how modernity was sold. Rotating exhibitions run alongside a permanent installation; the ground-floor design store and coffee bar are open to non-ticketed visitors.

A 1948 Art Deco dining car built by the Paramount Dining Car Company in Haledon, New Jersey — often mis-labeled a Pullman, it is not — hauled down from Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania and reopened here on September 11, 1992 after restoration. Stainless-steel exterior, curved corner windows, the original counter-and-booths layout intact. Open 24 hours, which is the real reason it matters: after most of Washington Avenue closes, this is where diner food, breakfast-any-hour, burgers, and a Cubano Eggs Benedict keep landing on the pass. Long-running and consistent rather than trendy.

The Miami Design Preservation League has been running this 90-minute guided walk out of the Art Deco Welcome Center on Ocean Drive since MDPL itself invented the field — the organization Barbara Baer Capitman founded in 1976 is the reason the district exists as a district. The route covers Ocean Drive, Collins Avenue, and Espanola Way, unpacking Art Deco proper, Mediterranean Revival, and MiMo (Miami Modern) on the same block-by-block walk. Guides are volunteer preservationists, not scripted actors, and the tour ticket includes admission to the small museum inside the Welcome Center.

A French sandwich counter squeezed into an alley off 14th Street between Washington and Collins, opened in 1988 and still run essentially the same way — you order at an outdoor window, sit on stools at a bar, and eat baguettes stuffed with saucisson, camembert, prosciutto, or brie dressed in the house Magic Sauce, a French vinaigrette the kitchen refuses to change. Cult status with tattoo-shop workers, bartenders, and line cooks getting off shift at 4a is not marketing copy — it is what the 22-hour operating window is built for.

Chef Jeff McInnis, John Kunkel, and Chris Romero opened the original Yardbird on Lenox Avenue in 2011, translating farm-country Southern cooking into a Miami Beach dining room and drawing a James Beard nomination and Bon Appétit's Best New Restaurant nod in short order. The kitchen is built around a skillet-fried chicken that is brined and rested for 27 hours before it hits the cast iron — served plain, or as chicken-and-watermelon-and-waffles, which is the room's actual signature. Sibling outposts have since opened in Las Vegas, Singapore, and beyond, but this is the flagship.

Florida's first luxury shopping center, opened by developer Stanley Whitman in 1965 on the site of a WWII army barracks between the Atlantic and Biscayne Bay. The open-air, two-level layout is planted with palms, orchids, and koi ponds — a landscaped promenade rather than an enclosed mall. Neiman Marcus arrived in 1971 as its first store outside Texas and still anchors the south wing; Saks Fifth Avenue holds down the north end. Between them sit Chanel, Hermès, Valentino, Versace, Celine, and dozens more designer flagships. The garage fills fast on weekends; valet handles overflow. Walking the shaded loop is free — even in mesh gear.

The heart-of-the-beach landmark that first opened in 1936 as the original Sunny Isles Pier, then took years of hurricane damage — most of it delivered by Wilma in 2005 — before the old wooden structure was demolished in 2012. The current 776-foot concrete pier reopened in 2013 with hurricane-rated construction, rod holders spaced along the rails, fish-cleaning stations, and line-recycling bins. A bait-and-tackle shop and the casual Beach Bar sit at the pier's landward end beside the Newport Beachside Resort. Local anglers work the deeper T-end for snook, Spanish mackerel, and pompano; sunrise on an outgoing tide is the sweet spot.

Joseph Wesley Young's original 1923 promenade, laid down as part of his "Dream City" resort vision — a 1.5-mile pink cement walkway between the Atlantic and A1A that the 1926 hurricane wiped out, rebuilt in wooden planks, repaved with asphalt by 1935, and repaved again in the current brick, crushed-shell, and tabby-concrete format after Hollywood stood up a CRA in 1997. Runs 2.5 miles between Sherman and Jefferson streets, 30 feet wide, with a separated bike lane, a jogging path, the open-air Hollywood Beach Theater, and Charnow Park's kid fountain about halfway down.

A 1959 Sunoco station on the Intracoastal that closed during the early-'70s gas crunch and reopened in 1974 as a beach bar, with the current burger recipe dating to 1975. The place is a scavenged-object garden — clawfoot bathtubs, driftwood, painted toilets, and oddities the owner pulled off the beach — arranged around cypress-plank tables under the trees on the Sit-N-Cypress deck facing the waterway. GQ's Alan Richman crowned The Original — 13-oz chargrilled sirloin on a Kaiser roll with lettuce, tomato, onion — America's best burger in 2006; Oprah followed a year later.

Casual open-air seafood spot on the Intracoastal at the north end of Seabreeze, a block south of where A1A crosses the 17th Street Causeway bridge — a raw plank deck built at boat level with slips for guests who arrive by hull rather than by A1A. The menu is straightforward American with Caribbean and Southern accents: coconut shrimp, conch-and-shrimp fritters, mahi tacos, lobster rolls, blackened grouper sandwiches. Dogs on leash are welcome on the deck. The kitchen is faster than the room looks; the wait for a waterfront table on a Sunday afternoon is not.

Chicago artist Frederic Clay Bartlett's 1920 winter estate, built on 35 oceanfront acres given to him by his father-in-law Hugh Taylor Birch — a Chicago attorney and naturalist who had bought up much of the barrier island decades earlier. Bartlett laid out a Caribbean-plantation-style house around a central courtyard with monkey and swan enclosures, and painted the interior murals himself. His second wife Helen Birch died in 1925; his third wife Evelyn Fortune Lilly wintered here until 1995, when she deeded the place to the Florida Trust. The grounds still hold five intact ecosystems — beach and primary dune, freshwater slough, secondary dune, mangrove wetlands, maritime hammock — the last undeveloped stretch between A1A and the Intracoastal.

Addison Mizner's 1926 Cloister Inn — the 100-room Mediterranean Revival hotel he built on the shore of Lake Boca Raton to house prospective land buyers, and the founding piece of what became the Gold Coast's grandest resort. The pink-stucco Tower rose in 1969; the original Cloister was repainted white during the $200M restoration completed January 2023 under MSD Partners and Northview Hotel Group, when the property dropped "Resort & Club" and became simply The Boca Raton. Two hundred lake- and oceanfront acres, still gated, still private — members and overnight guests only. Best appreciated from Camino Real, where Mizner's arches and bell tower read even at 25 mph.

Delray's original main drag and the spine of downtown — a straight shot from Swinton Avenue east to the Atlantic, and one of the longest Main Streets in Florida. Old School Square anchors the west end at the Swinton crossroads: the 1913 schoolhouse complex, on the National Register since March 1988, that catalyzed the downtown revival and helped Delray win the All-America City title three times (1993, 2001, 2017). Between there and the A1A pier, low-slung storefronts, banyan-shaded sidewalks, and a dense weave of galleries, cafés, and bars. Pineapple Grove and its Dancing Pineapple mural sit one block north of the avenue — worth the detour on foot.

Beachfront tavern since 1979 — Perry Don Francisco's Boston-transplant bar across A1A from the Delray municipal beach, and South Florida's official home of the Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics, and Bruins. Downstairs is the original: Fenway posters, license plates, thirty-plus TVs, and a Monday Reggae Night that has run past twenty-five years. Upstairs, the old Upper Deck was rebranded 50 Ocean and turned upscale — Ipswich steamers, lobster bisque, grilled swordfish, and second-floor ocean views. The place has outlasted every trend on Ocean Boulevard because it never tried to be one.

Working pharmacy and 82-seat soda-fountain luncheonette since 1938, when brothers Bob and Murray Green opened it on North County Road across from St. Edward Catholic Church. The Kennedys, who wintered at Joe Sr.'s estate a few blocks south, made it a Sunday ritual — Mass at St. Edward's, then burgers and cokes across the street. Murray Green remembered a young JFK as "a hell of a nice kid who'd hang out around the drugstore drinking Cokes and reading our magazines." Still family-run, still filling prescriptions on one side and slinging milkshakes on the other. Bar-height counter stools, formica, generous portions, and by Palm Beach standards, the cheapest tab on the island.