It’s not really a fair name for the huge part of the city spanning from the western portion of Englewood to Midway airport, but the area dubbed the Southwest Side has changed so much so quickly and in such different directions over the last century that the gloss is understandably common.

Until the late 1880s, Chicago’s Southwest Side was little more than cow pasture sprinkled with farmsteads. The turn of the century, however, brought a slew of European immigrants including Poles, Lithuanians, and Bohemians with the advent of industrialization, as well as efficient public transportation and the establishment of the Union Stockyards. Like in many other areas of Chicago, the post-World War II era brought turbulence as racial demographics began to shift. The pastures had become social battlegrounds where civil rights activists were often met with violence from angry community members and Ku Klux Klan sympathizers. In 1966, Martin Luther King Jr. was infamously struck by a rock during a Gage Park march for open housing.

Since then, the Southwest Side has become better known as a mixed community of African-Americans, Europeans, and Arabs, and more recently, a predominant number of Hispanics (around 80% of Gage Park residents are of Hispanic decent). With a diverse cultural makeup, a variety of small retail stores, restaurants, and ethnic grocery marts, this area is often overlooked as a vivacious sector of the city.

best geek paradise
Chicago Action Figures

Upon walking into Chicago Action Figures and being greeted by a life-size paper cut-out of El Rey Misterio, I knew I was in for a treat. Though small, Chicago Action Figures is stuffed with flashy merchandise, its walls lined with hundreds of wrestling, comic, and movie-inspired action figures. Fijian wrestling legend Jimmy ”Superfly Snuka” comes complete with a tiger-print bathrobe, while heavyweight champ Terry Funk is decked out with a cowboy hat and branding iron. Hulky, plastic, and garish, each figure in his or her own plastic casing is begging to be purchased with an intimidating snarl on their polyvinyl faces that is hard to say no to—and the prices, at around $12 a pop, only add to their argument. The very top shelves are lined with glittering Lucha Libre wrestling masks. My favorite item is a shiny gold version of a WWE wrestling belt outfitted with a spinning WWE logo in the center. Geeks of all stripes will get a kick out of this store, but girly-girls be forewarned—this place is not for Barbies. 5935 S. Pulaski. Monday-Friday, 12pm-7pm; Saturday-Sunday, 11am-7pm. (773)424-0911. chicagoactionfigs.es.tl/ (Anna Fixsen)

best place to escape winter
Garifuna Flava

Amidst a smattering of fast-food joints and the neon flash of a Harold’s Chicken Shack sign, Garifuna Flava stands is a culinary refuge for tired taste buds. The restaurant has gotten its share of press, having been featured on WTTW’s “Check, Please!” and WGN’S “Chicago’s Best.” The ambiance is sunny and pleasant: yellow-and-white-checkered tablecloths, photographs of Caribbean scenery, and groovy music on the speakers. The place is family-owned and operated; service is speedy and friendly. After much deliberation I sampled the gumbo-like conch soup, conch fritters, and plantain chips. The fritters were golden-crisp, and came with two delightfully spicy, cabbage-based chutneys. The conch stew was hearty and flavorful, especially when coupled with fragrant coconut rice. The portion sizes are huge—my date and I were grateful to split the conch soup, which came complete with its own miniature ladle in place of a spoon. Prices can run a tad high, but the weekday lunch special is about $7 and features classic dishes such as salads, beans and rice, and jerk chicken. 2516-2518 W. 63rd St. Tuesday-Thursday, 11:30am-8pm; Friday-Saturday, 11:30am-2am; Sunday, 11:30am-8pm. (773)776-7440. myspace.com/garifunaflava (Anna Fixsen)

best place to get better-than-popsicles
Tropicana

On a scorching late summer day, when Bomb Pops and Choco Tacos don’t cut it, head over to Tropicana for a paleta (a frozen Mexican treat similar to a popsicle). If you’re unfamiliar, think Edy’s fruit bars, only way, way better. Upon entering Tropicana, one can feel overwhelmed with choices. An oblong cooler in the back of the place contains a rainbow of paleta flavors including bubble gum, mango, lime, tamarind, strawberry, coconut, caramel, pineapple, and coffee. But monolinguals beware: most of the flavors are written in Spanish. The server was kind enough to help me out with the trickier words (berry eluded me) but a Spanish dictionary would have been appreciated. I sampled the pistachio ice cream and a galleta (cookies and cream) paleta. Both were creamy, flavorful, and satisfying. If ice cream doesn’t float your boat, the store also offers chicharrónes (fried pork skins) smothered in cheese, nachos, yogurt, and a smattering of other snacks. 5646 S. Kedzie Ave. (773)476-1107 (Anna Fixsen)

best tamales
Manolo’s Tamales

From as early as 5000 B.C., Incan, Mayan, and Aztec warriors used cornhusk-wrapped dough to sustain their armies. Portable, inexpensive, and delicious, it is easy to understand how the dish has endured through the ages—and tasting Manolo’s Tamales in Gage Park, it’s easy to see why the place has become a timeless favorite. The first thing one notices about Manolo’s isn’t the din of Mexican soap operas on the wall-mounted television set, nor the fake $100 bill behind the counter with the word “falso” written across it, but the delicious smell of cooking cornmeal. Tamales are served fresh from large cooking vats in the back of the tiny store and are sold individually or by the dozen. Not only are the flavors enticing (beef, pork, guava, chicken, bean, and cheese, to name just a few)—at 75 cents apiece, the price is enough to set one drooling. Tamales are available in the familiar cornhusk format and the oaxaqueño style, which are larger, rectangular, and cooked in a banana leaf. After sampling bean and cheese, pepper, and pineapple versions, I was sold. Tamales are the primary victuals, but Manolo’s also offers tacos, enchiladas, tortas, and more. 5341 S. Kedzie Ave. (773)436-7029 (Anna Fixsen)

best furniture boutique
An Orange Moon

Inside An Orange Moon, granny-chic takes on new life and starts to look pretty darn good. For a mid-century-modern furniture addict, this store is a dream come true (the tequila shot offered when entering the store might be appreciated by a wider audience). Specializing in vintage furniture, An Orange Moon has a wide variety of unique Eames-era pieces. Teak embellishments and credenzas abound along with Italian Lucite folding chairs and re-upholstered retro couches. A nondescript bat wing chair has been refurbished to look completely fresh and modern. The décor is sunny and inviting, with avocado-green walls, purposely worn white floors, and an artful array of clutter. An Orange Moon also offers a selection of vintage clothing, pottery, and decorative artifacts. The self-described “über hip” store lives up to all that the phrase implies. 2436 W. 59th St. Friday-Sunday, 11am-5pm (summer hours). (312)450-9821. theculturalpsychologist.blogspot.com/ (Anna Fixsen)

best bang for your buck
Unique Thrift Store

The sign above the door claims the shop is your “Department Thrift Store.” The selection of candelabras, DVD players, snow pants, brooches, books, and fabrics certainly affirms the title, but there’s no chance of confusion with Macy’s or Nordstrom. As the name also suggests, the offerings here are, in fact, unique. If you’re looking for overalls, stylish geese-covered plates, over-sequined prom dresses, or simple t-shirts, Unique is your spot. And as quickly as shoppers snag their treasures, the staff at Unique replaces merchandise with donations from around the city and suburbs. Clothing is sorted by color rather than size or style, which requires more strategic sifting, but the rainbow array of T-shirts alone guarantees any visitor an attractive—or at least humorous—find at a low price. Shoppers are encouraged to use the plentiful shopping carts and several curtained fitting room stalls. Be sure to check in on Mondays (all day) and Thursdays (before 1pm) for 50 percent off all items. 5040 S. Kedzie Ave. Monday, 6am-9pm; Tuesday-Saturday, 9am-9pm; Sunday, 10am-6pm. (773)434-4886 (Nani Ramakrishnan)

The Freddie from Calabria Imports (Claire Hungerford)

Inspired by a recent article in Dining Chicago on the city’s lesser-known signature sandwiches, I set out last week to find and consume three that are native to the South Side: the big baby, the Freddy and the mother-in-law. My expedition very quickly deteriorated into a desperate search, however. I met with caged, closed storefronts, wrong turns, and bad directions. I drove past blocks of boarded buildings, torn signs, and trash, then unexpectedly emerged into neat rows of houses, time-warped out of the ’70s. My physical journey through the South Side landscape to discover the sandwiches illuminated a historic movement of people, cultures, and tastes.

My first success was finding the big baby, a distinctive incarnation of the double cheeseburger. Its birthplace, Nicky’s the Real McCoy, was bright and yellow and red. Devoid of authenticizing pieces of memorabilia, it had the fast-food sterility of McDonald’s, with plastic tables fixed to the ground and brown tile floor. Yet the menu lacked McDonald’s predictability. While families with small children ordered up barbecue, two spindles hung with meat for gyros rotated slowly and beef patties sizzled for the quintessential American double-cheeseburger that would soon melt in my mouth. The big baby was by far the best sandwich I encountered, with its classic combination of juicy beef and onions, American cheese, mustard, and ketchup.

The eponymous founder of Nicky’s, Nick Vaginas, was a Greek man who opened some hot dog and burger stands in the ’60s. Vaginas appropriated the established tools and forms of production in America—hot dog stands, burgers, and buns—and injected Greece into them, in the form of gyros and pita bread. Though Vaginas didn’t stick around (he returned to Greece after only a few years), his sandwich and store remain to preserve his memory.

A similar two-way Americanization characterizes the Freddy, an Italian-style sausage patty on French bread that was conceived in Beverly during the ’70s. After previous failed attempts to lay my hands on this less common sandwich, it was with whoops and smiles that I spotted Calabria Imports on 103rd Street. Nestled in a row of tacky home accessory shops and cafés, the deli had a distinct community feel. Its founder, Benito Russo, is generally recognized as the father of the Freddy, which he named after his son. The sandwich I received was smothered in chunky tomato sauce, wilted green peppers, and mozzarella, offering a pleasing contrast of textures and flavors: the French bread was fluffy, and the sausage surprisingly well-spiced.

The community atmosphere, rather than the sandwich itself, reflected the story of the South Side’s immigrant past. Calabria Imports is a living legacy to the sorts of shops and food markets newly immigrated Italians opened that have, over the years, slowly become completely integrated.

The essential ingredients of the mother-in-law sandwich are chili and a corn-roll tamale on a hot-dog bun. Despite the efforts of Chicago food history buff Peter Engler, who traced the roots of the big baby and the Freddy, the mother-in-law’s origins remain murky. Today it is hard to find anywhere but at hot dog stands on the Southwest Side, which is where I got mine: at Fat Johnnie’s Famous Red Hots in Marquette Park. After ordering at the window of a clapboard-roofed trailer, I returned to the car with my brown bag. Inside was a soggy brown mess; goopy, watery chili threatened to consume the squishy poppy-seed bun. All the textures—the mealy cornmeal, the grainy meat, the soaked bread—combined into an unfortunate mush in my mouth.

Though it was the least appetizing of the three South Side specialties, the mother-in-law has perhaps the most intriguing history. It bears an obvious resemblance to the Coney dog and the Maxwell Street Polish, but its corn-roll tamale is unique to Chicago, differing from both the Mexican version and the spicy variety common to the South. Both are probable influences, however; Engler’s posts about the mother-in-law on Chicago foodie website LTHforum.com even caught the attention of historians documenting the Mississippi Delta’s “Hot Tamale Trail” (tamaletrail.com). The paths of immigration and the Great Migration of Southern blacks during the early twentieth century have crossed in Chicago to create a unique culinary experience.

Nicky’s the Real McCoy, 5801 S. Kedzie Ave. Calabria Imports, 1905 W. 103rd St. Fat Johnnie’s Famous Red Hots, 7242 S. Western Ave.

best mexican brunch
La Haciendita
With as brisk a business on Saturday mornings as any trendy North Side brunch spot, minus the long wait and high prices, La Haciendita is a favorite of Gage Park locals. Pretend you’re one of them and seat yourself; order in Spanish if you can. The menu is a litany of well-executed Mexican standards, with standouts like spicy gorditas, al pastor and carnitas tacos, and several preparations of huevos (accompanied by the usual rice and beans, plus potatoes). Thirsty? Order an horchata or other agua and you’ll get 64 ounces for less than $3. 5151 S. Kedzie Ave. Monday-Saturday, 10am-midnight. (773)434-3864 (Robin Peterson)

best exotic ice cream
Paletería Flamingo
Ever wanted to try tuna-flavored ice cream? Probably not—but maybe you’ll want to try cactus pear-flavored, which is what this ice with the startling label means in Spanish. If that doesn’t interest you either, one of the several dozen other flavors of house-made ice, ice cream, and yogurt probably will—tamarind, horchata, flan, Parmesan, chile, and fruits from the familiar (lime, cherry) to the foreign (guanábana). Can’t decide? Try a sample, which the servers are quick to offer, or order a scoop each of two different flavors for about $2. Portions are relatively small, but the flavors are intense. Paletería Flamingo also serves ice cream shop staples like sundaes and shakes, plus Mexican favorites like paletas—all of them made with fresh fruit. Cash only. 2635 W. 51st St. 2pm-10pm, daily but subject to weather. Closed during winter. (773)434-3917 (Robin Peterson)

best thrift store
Village Discount Outlet
With its laissez-faire attitude toward organization, the Brighton Park Village Discount Outlet emphasizes the treasure-hunt aspect of thrift store shopping. Be prepared to dodge piles of discarded clothing and small children in the cramped aisles, and don’t count on privacy when trying on clothes—the closest thing to a fitting room here is the few mirrors scattered throughout the store, which serve well enough for judging whether that “Mahoney Family Reunion” T-shirt is tight enough. If you manage to navigate the store’s controlled chaos, you can leave with several outfits for less than $10. The housewares are also a potential site for steals among the clutter. Visit this weekend, September 26 and 27, for a fall clearance sale where everything in the store is half price. 2514 W. 47th St. Monday-Friday, 9am-9pm; Saturday, 9am-8pm; Sunday, 10am-6pm. (708)388-4772. vdoil.com/05.php (Robin Peterson)

best street food
La Veintiseis
The commercial heart of Little Village, La Veintiseis refers to the stretch of 26th Street between Kostner and Western Avenues. It’s a booming area—next to Michigan Avenue, it generates the highest sales tax revenue in the city of Chicago. Head west under the “Bienvenidos”-proclaiming pink arch at Albany Avenue, and the colorful storefronts and abundant street vendors evoke a city south of the border—not so far from the truth, as the neighborhood is home to the highest concentration of Mexicans in the Midwest. Vendors share the sidewalks outside businesses, as is the tradition in Mexico, selling street food like tamales, chicharrones (pork rinds), paletas, and—sometimes, if you’re lucky—$1 tacos. Vendors sell from 5am-10pm daily. (Robin Peterson)

best caribbean
Garifuna Flava
The menu at Garifuna Flava reflects the cooking of the Garifuna people in Belize and elsewhere in Central America, a fusion derived from African, Latin American, and indigenous cuisines. Fish, rice, corn, and bananas play prominent roles, and offerings range from familiar Latin standards with a Caribbean twist (guacamole served with plantain chips) to homey, comforting dishes offered few places else (cow foot soup, cassava cake.) The panades, finger-long corn patties filled with a mixture of fish and refried beans, are a standout, each crisp patty bursting with fresh corn flavor. The restaurant turns one year old in May, and they hope to bring in more live bands and Belizean entertainment in the well-appointed banquet hall next door. Lively Caribbean music, yellow-checked tablecloths, and sepia photographs of Belizean villages make the fluorescent-lit storefront a pleasant enough place to take advantage of their Wi-Fi and full bar, but the engaging staff, and endless amounts of fresh, hot plates coming from the kitchen make it extraordinary. 2516-18 W. 63rd St. Tuesday-Thursday, 11am-8pm; Friday-Saturday, 11am-2am; Sunday, 11am-8pm. (773)776-7440 (Helenmary Sheridan)

best mango sorbet
Los Mangos Express
Plastic mango trees and optical illusion art fill the bright orange space of the promising Archer Heights taquería Los Mangos Express. The restaurant proudly serves specialties from the Mexican state of Guerrero like picaditas—red or green salsa, smoky meat, queso fresco, and a dollop of sour cream constructed on a fried masa base, a bit like sopes. These masa cakes are much thinner, however, which gives them a superb texture, exactly halfway between chewy and crunchy. The standard taquería fare, prepared on a griddle nearly as wide as the restaurant, is outstanding as well. Good luck finding anything on the menu more than $5—Los Mangos is ridiculously cheap. Leaving room for dessert is mandatory, otherwise you’d miss out on the nieve de mango, the chili-spiked mango sorbet. Gooey and just a bit piquant, it seemed to consist of more mango than ice. The nieve de mango could really be their ticket to city-wide recognition. Word seems to be spreading—a couple seated nearby skipped dinner and made straight for the sorbet. 4888 S. Archer Ave. Monday, Thursday, Sunday, 8am-10pm; Tuesday-Wednesday, 8am-9pm; Friday-Saturday, 8am-12am. (773)247-6070 (Ellis Calvin)

Illustration by Sam Bowman

“There are a lot of different ways to write crime fiction,” explains Sara Paretsky, a nearly twenty-five-year veteran of the Chicago crime novel genre. “This city is so gritty and corrupt—it belongs to the hardboiled crime tradition.” Pioneered in the 1920s by Caroll John Daly and popularized by writers like Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett, hardboiled crime fiction birthed the tough detective who delves into the world of drugs, sex, and violence in order to solve his case. “When I first came here, in 1966, the city was so unbelievably corrupt,” says Paretsky of Chicago. “It was an era of mind-numbing corruption. The corruption in the police force in particular was so extreme that I could not imagine writing from a policeman’s perspective, and so V.I. Warshawski was born.” Warshawski is the hard-talking, no-nonsense detective and heroine of Paretsky’s thirteen novel series. In her newest novel, “Hardball,” Paretsky goes back to the summer between her sophomore and junior year of college when she first arrived in Chicago as a church volunteer. “It was the height of great turmoil around the civil rights movement,” Paretsky explains. “There was a push towards open housing in the city. The city was very racially segregated and racial hostility was extraordinary.” Paretsky was placed at 70th and Damen, in a neighborhood occupied primarily by Catholic Lithuanian, Polish, and German families. “I was part of a group trying to work with kids and give them a different vision. It was an incredibly intense time to be in the city. We weren’t far from Marquette Park, where terrible race riots took place.” “Hardball” is the tale of a fictitious murder that takes place in the park that summer, and the murder weapon is a baseball, a play off of Chicago’s famous hardball pitch. “It was a summer that changed my life. It brought me to Chicago, and got me so involved in every aspect of the city that I could not imagine going anywhere else after that.” Martin Luther King was assaulted at the race riots in Marquette Park that summer. The riots were considered as violent and destructive as those in Little Rock. Paretsky continues, “Being there changed how I wanted to write. It made me want to tell stories that were grounded in the community. That summer changed me as a writer, it changed me as a person, it changed where I lived, it changed everything about me.” Paretsky moved to Chicago and has never left.

Over the years, the Chicago landscape has changed drastically for both Paretsky and her fictional characters. “When I first moved here, the night sky was yellow because of all the sulfur being burned. They said that breathing Chicago air was like smoking half a pack of cigarettes a day because of all the pollutants coming from the steel mills. When I shut my eyes, I see the city at night,” Paretsky reflects. “I see the methane flares, those lights that just go on for miles and miles.” Today, the red flares no longer spike the mustard sky, and the South Side is not an industrial center. Now, although the South Side is still a place where different cultures intersect, it is primarily characterized by the street-corner police poles whose blue lights portend danger.

It is not only the South Side city landscape that has changed, but the landscape for women as well. “When I started, there weren’t characters like V.I. Warshawski. I wanted to change the way women were depicted in crime novels. Women in fiction were known for using their bodies to make good boys do bad things. I wanted to create a woman who could solve her own problems, who had a sex life, a woman who turned the tables on the negative images projected onto them.” Warshawski has become one of fiction’s most notoriously strong female characters, and it is her Chicago neighborhood that fostered her. “I wanted someone who came out of the South Side,” Paretsky explains. “V.I. grew up when the steel mills really were active. There was always a new generation of immigrants looking for jobs. It was a school for fighting.” Over the years, Paretsky set a new precedent for female heroines, opening the doors for a slew of female crime writers and detective characters. In 1986, Paretsky founded Sisters in Crime, an organization whose mission is to promote the professional development and advancement of women crime writers. Now, the organization has expanded to over 3,600 members around the globe.

Libby Fischer Hellmann is another Chicago-based crime fiction writer, whose heroine detectives Ellie Foreman and P.I. Georgia Davis solve cases set in Chicago neighborhoods. “Chicago is an amazing city,” says Hellmann. “The South Side, in particular, is an integral part of the city. It’s vibrant and diverse, and it means something different to everyone. That’s an amazing gift for a writer.” Like Paretsky, Hellmann is an advocate of female heroines, as well as the current president of Sisters in Crime. Hellmann wears a second hat, however. Three years ago, Hellmann founded the blog The Outfit Collective. The Collective, as it is nicknamed, was one of the first geographically-focused blogs. Hellmann started the Collective as a way for writers to stay connected to their readers between publication dates. “I wanted the blog to be something different than most crime blogs,” Hellmann says, “and making Chicago the center of the blog was a great way to do that.” Over the past three years, the blog has evolved and expanded from its original seven members to ten, each of whom is assigned a day of the week to write about his or her topic of choice. Many of the contributors are former lawyers, insurance agents, and private investigators. Entrance themes range from discussing Chicago politics to thoughts on Mother’s Day to critiques of novels like “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.” While the backgrounds of the writers vary as much as the topics, a love for Chicago is tangible in each post.

But while the blog addresses many issues common to both Chicago neighborhoods and the world of crime writing, one issue, according to Paretsky, that it does not discuss is the role of women in these two worlds. “It’s a very masculine blog in a particular kind of way,” Paretsky says. “There’s been a kind of beseeching. I see that it doesn’t see the female perspective as something that matters—it’s all beer-drinking, back-slapping kind of behavior. It’s a very odd kind of collective.” Although Paretsky writes for the Collective, she also writes on her own, addressing women’s issues. “When I’ve written about women’s issues on the [Collective] blog, people have said that I’m a one-trick pony.” Paretsky has now started her own blog, for which she is the sole contributor.

However, Paretsky’s concerns reach far beyond these blogs. “I’m getting a wee bit discouraged,” Paretsky says with a sigh. “Some things really just haven’t changed enough. A lot of social life has changed, but at a fundamental level, women are still devalued. ‘Hardball’ is my attempt to come full circle. I’m trying to tell a story that questions what it means when we see women existing in the body and not the mind.” The role of women is not the only disappointment for Paretsky—so, too, is the South Side. “I do love this city. But I get really discouraged. Living on the South Side, it often feels you’re in the middle of a slum.” The worlds of fiction and reality have intersected on the pages of Paretsky’s novels for nearly 20 years. But like the unchanged and timeworn factories that dot Chicago’s South Side horizon, the role of women in the world of crime fiction seems to simply mold rather than mold change.

Sautéed shrimp with rice and ripe plantains at Garifuna Flava; Helenmary Sheridan

The panades ($3.75 for five), orange corn patties filled with a mixture of fish and refried beans, were the stand-out of our meal. Each finger-long patty burst with fresh corn flavor, warm and crispy on the slightly greasy outside but soft on the inside. The piquant cabbage-onion relish served with it complemented the sweetness of the corn, and the additional hot sauce of vinegar, onion and habanero peppers introduced a subtle heat that slowly builds. Garnaches ($2.25 for three), another dish built on the crispy corn model, were good but not stellar. Crunchy fried tortillas were spread with a thin layer of refried beans, chopped onion, cabbage, and cheese, and topped with ketchup that our server swore was a traditional ingredient in Belize. It worked surprisingly well with the sweet and vinegary onion. But the bright orange cheese tasted like it was sprinkled straight from the bag, and the combination of ketchup and pre-shredded cheese was reminiscent of teenage party food. They improved considerably with a generous dose of Marie Sharp’s Belizean hot sauce.

Two soft corn appetizers followed, both showcasing the versatility of fine-ground cornmeal. The single chicken tamale in the tamales appetizer ($3.50) was as long as the plate and as thick as my forearm, containing an entire bone-in chicken leg surrounded by soft vegetables and beans. Though it came unwrapped, it had been steamed in a banana leaf instead of a cornhusk, and the seasoning of the meat was heavy on unexpected spices like clove. The chicken was meltingly tender and quickly soaked its cornmeal wrapping, which was thinner and softer than its Mexican counterpart. Ducunu, described as “fresh corn grated and seasoned for a distinct taste,” was a soft, creamy mound of cornmeal served in a cornhusk, something like a fine-grained polenta in texture. It was mildly sweet, like fresh corn is, and flavored with a mystery seasoning that the chef keeps a secret even from our server. It could be bland by itself, but it was the perfect foil for the meaty tamale, which had so little cornmeal of its own.

After tasting such impressive variations on a single ingredient in our appetizers, we decided to try a wider range of Belizean entrees. The sautéed shrimp ($12) were plump and flavorful, lightly coated in a buttery, slightly sweet brown sauce flavored with garlic and onion. The ripe plantains that came with it were very good, as was the somewhat incongruous potato salad, with potato cubes diced small and a hefty dash of black pepper. A more adventurous choice was the darasa with stewed pigtails, in which an island of grated green bananas floated in a tangy tomato sauce next to fist-sized chunks of meat complete with skin and bone. If we hadn’t known it was banana, we never would have guessed: the gelid mash was purple-brown and paste-like, with a reflective surface that held the shape of its mold. It was like pudding on the tongue, with no discernible particles, and it had a mild, starchy flavor like that of taro. The stewed pig tails were shockingly bright pink, and the fatty meat fell off the gleaming white bone.

Our final entrée, a rich fish stew called hudut baruru could easily have fed two even without our appetizers. The thick, savory vegetable gravy was loaded with translucent cabbage pieces and enormous discs of kingfish, cross-sectioned through the skin, meat, and vertebrae into pinwheels three inches in diameter. The effort required to pop out the sections of meat and work out the small bones was worth it for the dense meat, dry and heavy like tuna or swordfish with an agreeable peppery flavor. Instead of bread, we mopped up the gravy with pieces of hudut, or mashed green plantains, which came in an enormous springy ball with the texture of Play-Doh and a starchy taste similar to the darasa.

The restaurant turns one year old in May, and they hope to bring in more live bands and Belizean entertainment in the well-appointed banquet hall next door. Lively Caribbean music, yellow-checked tablecloths, and sepia photographs of Belizean villages make the fluorescent-lit storefront a pleasant enough place to take advantage of their WiFi and full bar, but the engaging staff, and endless amounts of fresh, hot plates coming from the kitchen make it extraordinary.

2516-18 W. 63rd St. Tuesday-Thursday, 11am-8pm; Friday-Saturday, 11am-2am; Sunday, 11am-8pm. (773)776-7440