The Drake Kitchen and Bar in downtown Orlando is the culmination of Heberto and Rona Segura's decades-long dream

Roger Owens, a sales consultant for multinational food distributor Sysco, recounts the day at Disney Springs when Heberto Segura told him he was leaving his cushy 10-year gig as executive chef of Raglan Road to start his own food truck. "I was like, WHAT?!? Why???" Needless to say, Heberto and his wife, Rona, made a great success out of their mobile conveyance, Duck & Drake Kitchen. It even found a permanent parking spot outside Digress Wine in College Park, as well as a permanent legion of fans.

Owens, in fact, became a partner in the Drake Kitchen & Bar, the Seguras' glass-and-concrete venture downtown. It's a unique space with its nooks and angles and long walks through two doors and a hallway to get to the bathroom. The restaurant itself pays homage to the Duck & Drake Inn — a London pub where 13 conspiratorial Catholics, including Guy Fawkes, devised the Gunpowder Plot of 1605. The plan was to ignite 36 barrels of gunpowder beneath the House of Lords, blowing King James and his Parliament into teeny Protestant bits. So, a cocktail called the "36 Barrels" ($16) with its stiff pour of Gunpowder Gin seemed to be in order. We figured, why not blow our livers into smithereens? But all joking aside, what really blew us away were the dishes crafted by the Seguras.

On both my visits here, we started with the poofy za'atar-spiced flatbread served with a trio of delectable dips ($24) — black-eyed pea hummus with black garlic oil, tahini verde with garlic chips and, the favorite among both sets of friends, eggplant caviar with pickled peppers.

When digging into a plate of prime beef meatballs ($15) deepened in flavor and color by a mushroom confit and a foie gras emulsion, or forking up a pretty mess of patatas bravas, duck egg and Lady Edison ham in garlic aioli and Calabrian chili sauce, any semblance of doubt about the concept's mobility from humble food truck to snazzy boîte vanished. Vanished, I'd say, about as quickly as the dish dubbed "duck, duck, goose" ($35). This was another menu item I've enjoyed twice — three dishes presented on one plate: flaky duck strudel, aged duck breast and goose foie gras served with a spicy quince chutney. On one occasion, wilted spinach sided the plate; on another, broccolini. Either way, I'm not ashamed to say that the pomegranate gastrique circularly drizzled around the trio of poultry perfection was finger-licked to completion.

More perfection: flash-fried Gulf Coast snapper ($27) and fried plantain with a coconut-tomato curry; citrus- and shawarma-spiced fire-roasted chicken ($32) served over a treacherous habañero pepper sauce; mushroom risotto ($20) featuring Fungi Jon's finest; and a prime New York strip ($50). Steak isn't something I typically gravitate toward at restaurants, but our server sang its praises and we now wholeheartedly count ourselves among the choir of aye-sayers. "This marrow soubise and shiraz gastrique under the steak!" I exclaimed to my comrades. "This is Ravenous Pig-level food," declared the pal. "I just wish they had Ravenous Pig-level service."

Indeed, on both visits, the lackluster service wasn't anywhere near as refined as the food. Furthermore, our server didn't seem to have a clue about the restaurant's thematic connection to the Gunpowder Plot. Our question as to why the jamon Iberico de bellota was served "Serrano style" went unanswered. Serrano and Iberico are two different types of ham, so we were curious about the menu's description. More importantly, slices of the prized pig weren't shaved in thin strips as is customary but, rather, in thick, roughly cut portions. (It's possible a jamon novice did the slicing on this particular night, as Heberto was tending to the food truck.) Then there's the issue of the very basic wine list, which will certainly disappoint the Digress crowd. That said, a just-launched "Conspirators" wine list offering a much better selection of bottles was presented to us on our last visit. Not that it'll appease by-the-glass sippers.

Rona's desserts, however, will appease sugar-lovers to no end. Her chocolate budino, ($12) with layers of double chocolate cream, hot coffee caramel and a crisp sesame tuile, won't go unfinished. Neither will her pavlova de maiz ($14) with its corn-husk meringue, corn custard and brown-butter ice cream. Our lone quibble with this one was that the house-made ice cream wasn't fully frozen.

But did we eat it all? Oh, hell yes. Like most everything The Drake serves, it went down easy, and that's a testament to the Seguras and how their humble little food truck of global eats has grown into a fetching restaurant serving some of the best food in the downtown core.

Yeah, they started from the bottom, but now they here.