Eating at the flagship seafood restaurant in the most opulent hotel in the city is as much about the experience as it is about the cuisine. An elevator gussied up to look like a submarine takes you down to the "underwater" dining room, where tropical fish ogle diners from the massive tanks that line the walls. Yes, it's tacky, but it's kind of fun, too, and there's plenty of opportunities for people-watching: sheikhs, expense-account power brokers, and rich tourists partaking of multiple courses of vastly overpriced (approximately $250 per person) piscatorial delights such as Omani lobster and tuna carpaccio drizzled with truffle oil. Portions are large, given the number of courses, so come famished.

Open daily 12:30 to 3 pm and 7 pm to midnight.

This combination tea salon, shisha bar, restaurant, boutique, and Wi-Fi lounge, opened on the third floor of the Dubai Harvey Nichols' branch by London restaurateur Mourad Mazouz, a.k.a. Momo, is the haunt of new Arabian yuppies. Amid strains of Arabian music (CD for sale, of course), Momo serves exquisitely prepared classics such as pigeon pastilla and lamb tagine with prunes and almonds from a broad menu of North African specialties, which can be washed down with faux champagne "mocktails" of sparkling pear or apple juice and "desert pearls cabernet rose"—grape juice tinged with rose water essence, strawberries, and sour cherries. After dinner, segue into Almaz's own romantically dark shisha bar to smoke a hookah.

Open daily 10 am to 1 am.

Al Nafoorah is a regular haunt of the ruler of Dubai, Sheikh Mohammad, who loves its authentic Lebanese food (and doesn't seem to mind the dark, slightly dingy interior). Use the constantly replenished baskets of hot pita to scoop up creamy, olive oil–topped hummus, moutabel (a spicy eggplant dip), and traditional fattoush, a slightly sour mixed salad with crunchy croutons and a local pomegranate-seed dressing. Steak tartare fans should try the local variation, kibbeh nafoorah, made of bright-pink raw minced lamb. They also serve delicious, crispy falafel accompanied with a smooth tahini sauce, as well as fried kibbeh, parcels of minced meat, seasoning, and pine nuts. The mixed grill is a carnivore's dream, with pieces of char-grilled lamb, shish taouk (chicken), and minced kebabs.

Despite some fierce competition from newcomer Indego at the Grosvenor House Hotel, Bollywood singing sensation Asha Bhosle's venue is the best upmarket Indian restaurant in town. The surroundings are chic and informal, but the best dishes are traditional: A spicy biryani of rice slow-cooked in curry spices is encased in a delicious pastry cover; tandoori prawns are succulent and mammoth. Steer clear of the more experimental fusion plates, though. An added bonus is the alcohol license, the result of a rather tenuous link to a health club in the same building.

Adored by Dubai's society set, the Buddha Bar is done up in sumptuous burgundy and gold velvets, dark woods, and rich red chandeliers, giving an illusion of intimacy despite the sheer scale of the place (it's one of the Grosvenor House hotel's many eating options). The extensive Asian-inspired menu includes crab salad with crunchy pomegranate, Thai green chicken curry, or spiced lamb chops, but admittedly it's more about the scene than the cuisine. At night the restaurant—complete with gargantuan Buddha—has fantastic views onto the twinkling marina. Choose your table carefully, though: You'll feel cut off if you're sitting in one of the lounge areas, while the buzzy bar can get a bit noisy late in the evening, especially when they crank up the Arabian fusion house music. Still, it's an experience watching Dubai's beautiful people pose and play. Advance reservations essential.

Dinner only, 8 p.m.–2 a.m.

Stylish decor, excellent regional Italian wines and cuisine, and a tranquil terrace overlooking a green lawn and a cascading desalinated sea waterfall draw a mixed national and expat crowd to Quattro, the signature dinner-only restaurant of the Four Seasons Dubai Golf Club (don't let the name fool you, it's not a hotel). At night in high summer you might see die-hard members avoiding the sun and aiming for the artificially lit 18th hole just in front of the futuristic clubhouse as you dine on freshwater-crab salad with guacamole and shallot and mango sauce, or the house chitarra pasta with chunks of Canadian lobster. Unlike in many high-end Dubai eateries, service is perfect.

Open Tuesdays through Sundays 7 pm to 12 am.

Locals flock to this low-key Lebanese seafood haunt, despite its shopping-mall location and hackneyed maritime decor. Focus instead on the fresh food and low prices ($25 per person). Start Lebanese-style with crunchy bread, hummus, eggplant purée, tabbouli, and fried squid. Entrées depend on what's fresh that day from the market; highlights include meaty char-grilled prawns, fried red snapper, and grilled hamoor (a local fish that tastes a bit like cod). Better still, call in advance to order the specialty, a whole fish encased in a salt crust and slow-baked in the oven—its excavation, using chisels and hammers, is a spectacle in itself. This place is most fun on a Friday, when large families create a convivial atmosphere; it can be a little soulless during the week. No alcohol served.

You'll have to duck to enter the tiny doorway cut out of enormous wooden gates that lead to Tagine, a slice of Marrakech transported to Dubai's One&Only Royal Mirage hotel. The furnishings, ingredients, and wine—even the fez-clad waiters who flamboyantly whisk away silver lids off earthen dishes—are all imported from Morocco. We recommend the Couscous Royal, topped with tender lamb, chicken, and merguez sausage, which comes with a side of vegetables in a tasty clear broth. The portions are massive, so choose your meze wisely: Fresh, crunchy mixed salads, garlic-laden zucchini, and sweet tomato jam are highlights. Desserts are a little too sweet, but the smoothie-like Simply Arabic, a concoction of blended honey, milk, and dates, is a good alternative.

Closed Mondays; dinner only, 7 p.m.–11.30 p.m.

Teatro is one of those places where the menu causes anxiety: Should you pick your meal from the cuisine of India, Japan, France, Italy, or Thailand, and will any of it be authentic? Normally this Rand McNally version of fusion is something we'd steer clear of, but somehow this bustling multilevel hot spot, decorated with Bollywood and Hollywood shtick, manages all the cuisines brilliantly. Superfine slivers of beef carpaccio are topped with a creamy mayonnaise and mustard dressing, crunchy pieces of raw onion, and salty capers; an expertly crafted maki roll marries smooth avocado and crunchy shrimp tempura. The regulars bat their eyelashes and order off-menu—the sticky, sweet, miso-soaked sea bass is Teatro's worst-kept secret (if also Nobu's most-copied dish). End with the "sizzling" chocolate brownie that spits, smokes, and generally screams "look at me" on a hot plate at your table. Granted, in this room, it's got plenty of competition.

Open daily 7 pm to 2 am.

While the restaurant is reminiscent of a sleek but bland first-class airport lounge, with lots of glass and sparse walls, this Gordon Ramsay outpost delivers the best fine dining and slickest service in Dubai, thanks to the chef's protégé, Jason Whitelock. Verre's tables are widely spaced so its diners—who collectively own most of the emirate—can wheel and deal in private. The French-influenced menu, reminiscent of those in Ramsay's other restaurants, is worthy of the hype…and the cost (you'll pay about $125 per person). Dishes include an amuse course; choux pastry filled with truffle cream cheese and a hefty slice of foie gras and duck terrine; and melt-in-the-mouth slices of pink lamb with delicate caramelized shallots and baby root vegetables. The wine list is exceptional, both in price (high) and choice (wide).

Closed Saturdays; dinner only, 7 p.m.–11 p.m.

If you feel like dim sum (no matter what time of day), get a table at Zheng He's, a sophisticated spot decorated with dark woods, red lanterns, and faux-Oriental antiques. Chef Chee Leong oversees the kitchen, turning out baskets of steamed taro seafood dim sum and black-ink squid dumplings, plates of fragrant sautéed eggplant in a spicy sauce, and decadent plump scallops with shavings of truffle and white asparagus. The wasabi-crusted prawns with a mango salsa and mayonnaise pack a sinus-clearing punch. If you can survive without AC, sit outside beside the water with views of the iconic Burj Al Arab.