NO dictionary is required at Esperanto. Waiters at the far-East Village restaurant won’t ask for your order in the international speak from which it gets its name.
That other universal language, music, flows freely, though, combining with a caipirinha-happy young crowd to crank up the decibel level on a recent Friday night.
Entrees are $15 or less. The menu – which fuses pan-Latin fare with European technique – needs little translation, but our congenial waiter was ready to interpret anyway.
“It looks like algae, but it’s really mint,” he jests about the green substance floating atop a mojito. That rummy potion and a lusciously smooth, sweet batida de coco (rum and coconut milk laced with ginger and lime) seem fitting amid Esperanto’s fiesta-chic decor of turquoise and red walls, dangling bare bulbs, rustic wood sconces and ceiling fans.
On the whisky list, too, are tongue-tripping brands such as Ypioca and Pirassununga. Oblivious to such exotica, a pint-sized patron entertains herself by blowing bubbles into a soda with two cocktail straws.
“She’s really enjoying her drink,” yells my fellow foodie across the table, who can’t say the same for her flounder.
“It’s disintegrated,” she laments after dismantling the pretty banana leaf package holding steamed-to-oblivion filet remains in a faint-hearted coconut broth.
My salmon fared much, much better. Everything worked in the grilled-to-order fish, which was crisp on the edges and juicy in the center alongside a fat disk of coconut rice.
Extra flavor and color came via mango and red-pepper salsa, and collard greens slick with garlic-scented oil.
We had started with a daily special, shrimp ceviche, “cooked” firm from a sharp lemon marinade with little toast crisps intended for dipping. Paling next to it was an assortment of light-crusted empanadas, though the chorizo-filled one had a spicy punch.
Service is friendly and casual, but the timing can be off. On that visit as well as the next (quieter) one, appetizers arrived pronto, but we’d barely touched them when there were our entrees. Meanwhile, an order of arepas never materialized.
Such oversights are forgiven when a meaty calamari appetizer provides slices the size of onion rings that are surprisingly tender with great charred taste, propped on a luscious salad with tropical mango dressing.
Two little tortas de camarones are gussied-up comfort food, super-soft potato slices and a few chunks of shrimp decorated with squiggles of spicy aioli.
Mildy seasoned sancocho de pollo focuses on the natural flavors of boiled chicken, slivers of corn on the cob, chayote and yucca. The plantains are dry but the garlic broth nicely moistens the rice.
Here, the usually man-size Brazilian fejoada is a modest portion of mostly black beans with scant portions of four kinds of pork, from chorizo sausage to salted ribs, along with fluffy rice, greens and orange wedges.
Well, you’ll want to save room for desserts anyway.
May we recommend the terrific coconut flan, almost like a cheesecake, or, in a lighter mode, passion-fruit mousse, a satiny froth of perfectly balanced tartness and sweetness.
In 1990, when the restaurant Bernard occupied this address, Zagat warned “bring an armed guard” to its “war zone” Avenue C location. Back then, I once returned to my car parked nearby to discover vandals had apparently broken in and camped out in the back seat, leaving telltale cigarette burns and candy wrappers on the upholstery.
These days, the neighborhood is more user-friendly. On the weekend, though, you might want to pack some ear plugs.
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ESPERANTO
145 AVENUE C (212) 505-6559