Reviewing Miami and then some. Gratuitous vulgarity included.

Bin No. 18

[post_intro] [/post_intro]

The first time I came here it was with a closet lesbian. She may not be a full-on lesbian but one could argue the point pretty convincingly.

Immediately upon entering, bam, I notice the tables are barrels. That is awesome. It’s like Roadhouse Grill without the shitty food. It’s always places like this that tend to have unorthodox seating, you look around and the chairs aren’t from a set they’re just general chairs that looked like they were purchased in eight different garage sales. It’s a bistro staple which they employ because they’re trendy, but I think the real reason is because buying an expensive set of chairs dips into the owner’s cocaine budget and he ain’t having that.

She wants to feel like less of a closet lesbian…

After our waitress took our drink orders, my friend was like “morenita is cute, right?” I see what she’s doing. She wants to feel like less of a closet lesbian having me agree with her assessment that our waitress is attractive. “Yeah, she is,” I respond. The next day she tells me she had a dream about our waitress and can only get off to tasteful lesbian porn. Snap.

So the menu at Bin No. 18 is solid. They have some good-ass bread, some good-ass cheese, some good-ass meats, and some good-ass ass. The first time I had the bruschetta was my second time there and the only reason I had it was because the waiter pronounced it properly. It’s broo-ske-ta. It’s not broo-she-da, or broo-che-da, or bro-what’s-up. On that alone I was like “dude, yes, a million times yes” complimenting his pronunciation, but he thought I wanted an order and brought it out. It was good though. Their stuffed portobello will wean a crackhead off crack for nine days straight. When I tasted their roasted salmon it was the closest I’ll ever get to eating a mermaid’s tail. And, rest assured, I really want to eat a mermaid’s tail. No, better yet, I want to take a mermaid out on a date to a fancy restaurant and when they serve her main course she takes a bite and asks, “wow, this is delicious, what is this?” then I say “MERMAID’S TAIL, BITCH HAHAHA” and she freaks out and starts crying in front of everyone. I’m all like, “that’s what you get for being mythological.” Then I sell her mythological tears to sailors.


I had an apple pie there the first time and our waitress was all like “would you like that a la mode?” That’s when I discovered what a la mode was. I always thought “mode” was French for “fashion”, but apparently it means vanilla ice cream. Knowledge.

Bin No. 18 receives my recommendation.

So where the hell is it?
  • 1800 Biscayne Blvd Ste 107
  • Miami, FL 33132
  • (786) 235-7575
  • Bin No. 18 on Urbanspoon
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5 Comments to Bin No. 18

  1. S

    You didn’t know what “a la mode” was?


    • I just didn’t know what it was called. I always called it the fatfuck supreme.

  2. The Miamian

    My dearest, dearest Orlando,

    You have strayed from the purpose of your posts, Tsk, tsk, I’m disappointed in you Orly.. (do you mind if I call you Orly?). Youre just NOT about the substance anymore, youre not putting in the effort you once were. I feel like youre spending more time trying to come up with your frolicking one-liners and you’ve neglected the art of connecting with the reader.

    Go back to basics, the zingers will come. This whole bit on the mermaid… LAME!

    • I used to connect with readers?


      • Miamian clearly has never had lust for mermaid’s tail. That part was fucking hilarious.

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