Everything I’d heard about the Samba Room (“It’s so corporate!”; “It’s like Epcot: Havana!”; “I’ve had better Latin food in Saskatchewan!”) prepared me to dismiss it as just another wannabe chain intent on separating suckers from their dollars with phony culinary authenticity and sugary cocktails.
It never occurred to me that the Samba Room, a busy Latin-fusion restaurant on the corner of 15th and Larimer streets, might actually be a pretty good time.
But it is.
Sure, the Samba Room is more Lauderdale than Little Havana. Think South Beach, not San Juan. Floribbean, not Caribbean. But no matter: Whatever its provenance, the Samba Room has a soul.
You might search for the Samba Room’s soul in the décor, a prefab mix of visual Cuba-Brazil-fetish that looks like it was assembled after a visit to the “Latin Accents” section of one of those massive do-it-yourself home-supply stores. You won’t find it there.
You might search for its soul in the Samba ceviche, the Cubano sandwich, or the ropa vieja (shredded beef), but you won’t find it there, either. (More on the food later.)
You might even search in the spicy, evocative pan-Atlantic mix of Celia Cruz, Tito Puente, and Césaria Évora that pipes through the speakers. Close, but no cigar (or cigarillo, as the case may be).
Here’s where you’ll really find the Samba Room’s soul: in its mojitos, and in its people.
First, its people.
The service at the Samba Room is wonderful and rare, a flawless revelation in the context of downtown Denver restaurants. Whatever training they go through before being set loose on the Samba Room’s floor, it works. Service is casual and relaxed but precise and impeccable.
This is a kind and thoughtful crew: Pleasant, knowledgeable about the menu and most important, aware. Sure, they’ll bring you a fresh Diet Coke with lime or a new fork if you ask for it, but chances are you won’t have to ask. They’ve thought of it already. Same goes for fresh napkins, dessert menus and even the check.
They’ve also thought to offer and bring a classic mojito, one of several variations on the Samba Room’s extensive drinks menu. Try the mango- or coconut-flavored versions if you must, or even the frozen “South Beach” mojito, but the classic is a better bet: rum, sugar, mint and lime all muddled together with ice and a swizzle carved from a stalk of sugar cane. A totally refreshing prelude to your meal.
As to your meal: It would be a mistake to compare the Samba Room’s contemporary, accessible Latin-inspired fare to authentic Cuban or Brazilian or Puerto Rican cuisine. That would be like comparing apples to oranges (or mangos to coconuts). I’ve had better ropa vieja in San Juan, better Cuban sandwiches in Miami, and much better ceviche in New York and Peru. In fact, I’ve had better versions of all of these dishes in Denver, for that matter. (Try Cuba Cuba or Sabor Latino for more authentic Latin fare.)
But somehow, the Samba Room’s menu, familiar and easy to grasp, satisfies.
One bright dish was Samba Caesar, which married the anchovy-and-romaine flavors of a classic Caesar with a dusty, smoky chile note that haunted the back of my throat even after I tried to wash it down with a sip of mojito. A total plate cleaner.
Another surprisingly good dish, the Spanish paella, had a deep, sea-flavored broth, well-cooked saffron rice, few chunks of chicken, and plenty of seafood: meaty shrimp, fresh-tasting mussels, slippery calamari, and a grand, succulent lobster tail. Not a bargain at $25.95, but two could easily share this dish and have no room left for dessert.
The empanadas, filled with sweet corn or pork, were flaky and rich. Black bean soup was mildly spicy, toothy and very filling. Tempura coconut shrimp served with a chile-citrus dipping sauce was subtle and greaseless, if not explosive in flavor. Grilled beef tenderloin with a fig glaze and potato purée was meaty and bold but refined and smooth.
Seared jumbo scallops with mashed potatoes, ropa vieja, and a drizzle of a citrusy sauce, was the best way to take in the Samba Room’s super-salty ropa vieja; it works beautifully as a condiment set against the silky clean flesh of the scallops and soothing earthiness of the mashed potato. But avoid the Ropa Nueva sandwich and the Cuban Blue Plate Special, where the ropa vieja is the main component; it’s just too salty to take a leading role.
The Cubano sandwich was unremarkable: A cheesy, porky, pickle-filled monster of a sandwich that belongs at a down-
and-dirty sub shop, not a stylish restaurant like this one. It had no subtlety, and it was big enough to make you wish you hadn’t eaten the whole thing.
That said, I ate the whole thing. I also finished every soft, tangy bite of the salty-sweet maduros (fried plantains) that I ordered to go with it.
A less successful plantain-
based dish, the mariquitas (fried plantain chips) with black bean corn salsa, is tasty but weird. They slice their mariquitas lengthwise at the Samba Room, and each one looks like Gene Simmons’ most lucrative body part. Fair warning: Mariquitas come with the ceviche, too.
A word on the ceviche: It’s a gamble at the Samba Room and seems to change by the day. Sometimes clean and refreshing, sometimes soggy and too vinegary. Ask your servers; they’ll tell you what’s what for the day.
Avoid this dish at all costs: The Samba soba noodles. Clearly an outcast on the menu, it’s an uninspired attempt at a token vegetarian crowd-pleaser.
Also underwhelming, the crab cake appetizer with mango beurre blanc, which tasted like anything but crab.
And besides the coconut crème brûlée, you can safely skip dessert, especially the gummy Key lime cup. (If you insist, however, you can score a small tasting portion of any of four desserts for only $1.95.)
Lunch is the best time to visit the Samba Room, when the bar isn’t overcrowded with after-work revelers and the music’s been turned down a couple of notches. Have one of the Latin Lunch Boxes (none of which comes in a box): the Puente, the Iglesias, or the Estefan. Each has a different combination of salad, empanada, and meat or fish. Swing your shoe from your toes and sip your iced tea (or, if it’s Friday, your mojito) while you sit in the window and watch the Larimer Square lunch crowds scurry back to their desks.
(Take a moment to freshen up in the bathroom before heading back to work: Not for nothing, there’s a mouthwash dispenser in there.)
Will the Samba Room claim a hallowed place in the annals of Denver’s culinary history? Not likely. Will it inspire rapture in reviewers or draw destination diners from far afield? Nah, probably not. But will they show you some classy service at the Samba Room, mix you a refreshing mojito, and play you some relaxing Caribbean beats over a satisfying meal?
Believe it.
Dining critic Tucker Shaw can be reached at 303-820-1958 or at dining@denverpost.com.
Samba Room
Latin Fusion
1460 Larimer St., 720-956-1701
**|Very Good
Atmosphere: Pre-fab Caribbean/Brazilian décor in a two-level dining room with wraparound windows. Large, busy bar area. At night, hectic happy hour crowd.
Service: Very good, some of the best in downtown Denver.
Wine: Nothing particularly noteworthy, but a wide enough range that wine drinkers will find a nice white, red, or bottle of bubbles. Recommendation: Stick to cocktails.
Plates: Appetizers, $6.95-$10.95. Entrees $15.95-$26.95.
Hours: 11 a.m.-11 p.m. Monday-Wednesday, 11 a.m.-midnight Thursday-Saturday. 11 a.m.-10 p.m. Sunday.
Details: All major credit cards accepted. Catering available. Group dining. Wheelchair accessible. Reservations recommended but it’s easy enough to walk in and get a table. Fun for kids, especially at lunch.
Three visits.
Our star system:
****: Exceptional.
***: Great.
**: Very good.
*: Good.
No stars: Needs work.
