Onda

The news from the Financial District is not all grim; a mini-Restaurant Row is taking root on Front Street between Peck Slip and Beekman. The latest opening is that of 2 1/2-week-old Onda. With its strong drinks, light bossa soundtrack, and cuisine full of zest and spice, this pan-Latin place might take the edge off one's longing for a Caribbean vacation. (I am suffering from such a longing, but whenever I choose a specific travel date, the vacation price inexplicably doubles.)

The room evokes a poolside courtyard at a tropical resort. Mexican tiles adorn the banquettes, and dim aqua light shimmers from the lanterns reflecting off of the metallic epoxy floor. Last night, a friend and I sat at a corner table at the back of the room, admiring the scene.

Our server brought by a Havana-style mojito and a bourbon drink with orange liqueur. The mojito was chock-full of mint, not too sweet, and so deceptively strong that I had to pause after drinking about an inch of it. It was a good time to pause, because just then, a basket of warm Manchego flatbread and paprika-dusted garbanzo spread arrived.

"What shall we order?" I wondered. There were salads, ceviches, hot appetizers, fish, meat, a paella and several sides. Several dishes sported an Asian influence, as chef Raymond Mohan is inspired by Chinese-Peruvian cuisine - a snapper ceviche contained tapioca pearls, and there was a Chifa-style fish.

We decided on two ceviches, smoked duck flatbread, Chifa-style branzino, Lima-style chicken, "Spanish" fries and asparagus. We were completely unprepared for the sheer amount of food that soon graced our table - the portions were exceedingly generous! The hamachi tiradito was a plate of rich yellowtail sashimi slices, dotted with small pineapple chunks and drizzled with yuzu creme fraiche. Striped bass ceviche in citrus sauce, served in a transparent red dish, had a real jalapeno kick - the accompanying passionfruit sorbet soothed the bite. We were to find that many of the dishes were accented with tropical fruit, but the main ingredients were never overpowered by it.

The smoked duck flatbread was a sort of pizza. A long oval dough was smothered with earthy porcini spread and melted Manchego. Rosy pink duck slices lay atop the cheese, each one with a sherried cherry. (This dish is a good choice for those who shrink from spicy.)

We were already approaching fullness at this point, but the impressive main courses soon followed. When my whole grilled branzino first arrived, I worried that it would be overwhelmed by its soy broth, but this was not the case at all - the soy-ginger sauce was very light and not salty, and the fish was as flavorful as could be. It was topped with cilantro leaves, scallions and jalapenos.

At $18, the Lima-style chicken was a feast for a king - a crispy-skinned half-chicken came with a spicy red onion slaw ("These are my favorite flavors," remarked my friend, "red onion, cilantro and jalapenos." She had obviously come to the right place!). We were embarrassed by how little we could finish of the thin asparagus slices in spicy aioli and the formidable mountain of Spanish fries. For the latter, a fork was a must - Idiazabal cheese was melted all over the potatoes. There were also red onions and jalapenos over top, but I forked them aside in favor of the buttery cheese.

We didn't expect to order dessert after all of this, but it's funny how that happens. Soon we were diving into caramelized rum bananas in a crispy cookie shell, and Chinese spoons containing eggless basil ice cream sprinkled with salted almond praline, and a truly remarkable warm chocolate cake. (A spoonful of fruit was intended for mixing in with the cake, but the dessert was already perfect with its scoop of vanilla bean ice cream.)

A good cup of coffee is essential at any Latin American restaurant, and I was supplied with a smooth Essse espresso. Sipping contentedly, I looked at my friend and said, "All we need now is a hammock."

Onda Restaurant: 229 Front St., (212) 513-0770.