In South Florida, few things are taken seriously. Even most hurricane rations are turned into sensible dinners after enough uneventful months slip by. But true Sunshine Staters will go toe-to-toe with any Yankee scoundrel who's trying to pass off store-bought key lime pie as homemade. In fact, they freak the hell out. And after being scorned enough times in the past, key lime gourmands know the warning signs: perfectly triangular solid wedges of (shudder)... gelatinous green stuff. That's just another reason why locals brave the Darwinian seating order at Le Tub: Its key lime pie is the delectably whipped yardstick that all others must measure up to. The globby hunk of goo expands as it sits in its Styrofoam dish, while its condensed milk glue keeps the surface tension cohesive, making every spoonful a creamy victory. The heavy slab of pie is about the size of a wedge of brie and twice as rich, and the staff is never timid about slathering it with Reddi-Wip. Have it served alongside a margarita on the rocks and you'll understand why you waited so long for a table — after all, everyone around you is experiencing the same thing: a short-term love affair with a piece of pie. Savor it.