La Cumbamba rocks. “Hotel California” is turned up to 11, competing against El Beso Azteca banging it out in the basement clubhouse. Fresh salsa, drippy candlesticks, and expired gladiolus loiter on mismatched tables under the sulk of a Keith Richards portrait and nudie ceramic figurines. William Restrepo, chef, waiter, owner, and antagonist of “poopy Colombians” who, he complains on the back of the menu, don’t approve of his nontraditional Colombian fare, stops by to gauge your appetite and decide what you ought to eat. The menu is just a formality–sort of a guide to what you’ll be served, like it or not. I liked it, but more for ambience than actual savory delight.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Yucca with Garlic Dry potatoes by any other name.
Foreplay appetizer Plump portabellos submerged in balsamic vinegar, rumored to be grilled. A little longer on the fire would coax out their woodsy appeal.
