Restaurant Review Latin Beat Once you get inside, Lima pulses with lime-infused cuisine and an inviting setting By Tom Sietsema Washington Post Magazine Sunday, May 21, 2006 Even on a slow Monday night, Lima Restaurant parks a velvet rope outside its front door. The marker's presence is curious. If you're looking for an unwelcome mat or a sign of exclusivity, a velvet rope is as sure to do the trick as a hulk with crossed arms. But this not-so-subtle checkpoint contrasts with what a diner finds inside: an easy smile from the young hostess, who gets a cardio workout as she leads you from the street-level bar, with a retractable video screen and a few couches, to an inviting restaurant a staircase away. There, the visitor takes in a sparkling sea of stemware, including champagne flutes, atop every table, and a color scheme that soothes rather than excites. The walls are alternately sage or grass green; the chairs are wrought from stitched leather; and the wine is displayed in what appear to be stacked tops of wine barrels. The overall look is about as open, natural and airy as you can find indoors. And there isn't a bad seat in the house, though frisky types might prefer the tucked-away tables in the rear and voyeurs might like a seat near the front windows, which offer a view of the intersection of 14th and K streets. "Lima" suggests you'll be drinking pisco sours and eating papas rellenas -- mashed potatoes wrapped around ground beef -- but Lima doesn't recognize Peru in any serious way. Instead, the restaurant incorporates citrus ( lima is Spanish for lime) in many of its dishes, including the butter served with the bread. Chef Raynold Mendizabal-Betancourt, who consulted at Ceviche in Silver Spring, shares a few of the flavors of his Cuban childhood. The result is a menu that is both restaurant-fancy and homespun. A handful of "citrus-cooked" seviches and tiraditos (using sashimi-grade fish) beckon at the start. They include thin panes of whitefish, decorated with a slice of jalapeno and fresh cilantro, and red cubes of tuna tossed with sesame seeds, ginger and scallions. Not all the opening acts revolve around fish: Morsels of raw beef splashed with lime juice and jolted with capers are as light and tasty as the company they keep. The chef needs to go lighter on the olive oil, however, which overwhelms a few dishes. One night's special of octopus tossed with tomato, olives and potatoes would have been more successful with half the added fat. The two standouts among the first courses show a chef that can juggle haute and homey. A sumptuous chicken croquette rises from its plate like a tall crab cake, and the presentation is made more fetching (and kicky) with sauces of orange (tomato and chipotle) and green (spinach pureed with cilantro). An enormous white plate bears two empanadas distinguished by their fine pastry shells and pleasantly sweet filling of crumbled beef, tomatoes and raisins. Adding color and dash to the snacks is an emerald swab of cilantro sauce. Picture Mom's cooking with an elegant twist. The kitchen offers a cheese plate, too, with four Spanish varieties arranged in thin slices, with almonds, walnuts and dried fruit. If the presentation is a little austere, it makes for a nice shared snack with a mojito or margarita. Looks can deceive, of course. The home-liest fish dish on the menu turns out to be the best-tasting. Sea bass patted down with a gray-green crust of cashews, cilantro and Parmesan cheese doesn't make for a great visual, but the silken fish and the zesty cover add up to a satisfying match. Was the "wild king" salmon I ate recently really wild? The fish I got lacked the rich intensity and deep color of that prized catch, and it was also overcooked and a little dry. Saving the main course from complete ruin, however, was an excellent fresh corn tamale, sweet and custardy, banded in banana leaf. The kitchen also overcooked a flatiron steak -- my companion and I had asked for medium-rare and got meat that was not the least bit red, not even pink -- yet the entree somehow remained succulent, helped along by a stinging chimichurri sauce draped over the meat, and accompaniments of fragrant rice and grilled purple onions. The lobster in a pretty paella was soft and sweet; too bad the rice didn't cooperate (it was salty). For a dish that cost $42, overseasoning is unforgivable. There's talent in the kitchen, but one gets the sense that the crew isn't always paying close attention. Thump! Thump! Thump! Dinner is interrupted one night by pulsing music from two floors below -- a basement lounge with a deejay booth and another velvet rope "greeting" visitors. If you want some solitude with your seviche, it's best to dine early at Lima. And if you've come to see someone on the sly or trade state secrets, be aware that the restaurant has a not-so-hidden camera suspended from its black ceiling (a total of seven security cameras are scattered around the three-level venue). Lima is seriously invested in its liquid assets. Here's the place to investigate small-batch bourbons and 23-year-old rums from Guatemala, as well as wines from around the world. The choices aren't obvious and include a number of labels (California's Helen Turley comes to mind) that aren't everyday finds. Bargains are few, but the wine program shows thought. Every red wine I've ordered here has been decanted into a beautiful pitcher, adding a celebratory note to any meal. Much as I'd like to boycott chocolate cake with a liquid center, a dessert craze that shows no sign of dying, I have to admit the decadent version at Lima found me eating more of it than I expected. (Perhaps it was the thick, caramel-rich ice cream that accompanied the cake.) When served warm, the curly, sugar-dusted fritters called churros are my favorite conclusion to a meal here. The twists come with two dips: a watery chocolate sauce and a thin syrup brightened with lime zest. Focus on the latter. I would be happy to offer more detail, but the restaurant wouldn't let me. On my last visit, a waiter announced that the restaurant was out of my first two dessert choices and that the bulk of the dessert options were changing the very next day. And just as this review was headed to press, Mendizabal-Betancourt told me he intended to add more unusual meats to his menu -- rabbit, pheasant and veal brisket. The owners say they want food to be the focus at Lima, and they're off to a respectable start. By keeping the tunes in check and taking down the ropes, they might lure us for dinner and a side of dancing rather than the other way around.
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