Eating at the flagship seafood restaurant in what is still 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 another 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.

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.

Locals flock to this low-key Lebanese seafood haunt, despite its shopping-mall location and hackneyed maritime decor; both the food and service are better, if not the view, than a newer branch on the plaza surrounding the Burj Khalifa. 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.—Updated by Susan Hack

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.

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.