A toast to restaurant's reincarnation as Gitano

With restaurant mortality rates on the rise, an upswing in restaurant recycling is inevitable. No, I'm not talking about chefs composting their leftover micro-greens or busboys schlepping empty wine bottles out to the alley for tomorrow's pickup. I'm referring to those die-hard romanticists intent on finding — and leasing — a recently vacated restaurant. Preferably one with a fully equipped kitchen, a transferrable liquor license and a prime neighborhood location.

Case in point: Marco Casas Beaux, an Argentinean who's had a hand in more than a few Seattle restaurant ventures and recently gave life to two new dining venues: Buenos Aires Grill (formerly The Poor Italian Cafe) and today's subject, Gitano.

If that lead paragraph looks familiar, you've likely read it before. It's recycled from my review of Gypsy.

Gypsy was the reincarnation of Jimmy's Table, the little Madison Valley bistro that didn't live to see its second birthday, and it didn't live to see its first.

Here's hoping Gitano (Spanish for gypsy, pronounced HEE-tan-oh) has the staying power its predecessors lacked. It should: as long as the kitchen can maintain the level of excitement generated by a menu that travels throughout Latin America, tapping the talent of Puerto Rican chef Maritza Texeira. And as long as they keep creating those tropical-vacations-in-a-glass disguised as specialty cocktails. Two of these and, well:

Remember the scene in "Guys and Dolls" when Sky Masterson takes the straight-laced Sarah Brown to Havana, introducing her to the joys of rum and uninhibited behavior? Ay caramba! Be sure to call a cab because that could be you, drinking a banana colada while climbing on the rail that separates Gitano's sexy little bar from its compact dining room. It was all I could do not to hang from the chandelier belting: "Ask me, how do I feel, little me with my quiet upbringing? Well, sir, all I can say is if I were a gate I'd be swing-ing!"

Adventurous alchemy can do such things, and that's what's at play behind the bar where the refreshing caipirinha (lime juice, tangerine and sugar-cane liquor) and the Gitano (blood orange, lemon, tequila and crème de cassis) are reason enough to run-don't-walk.

"I'd walk here — in the rain — for another one of these!" insisted a friend, as he sipped a brandy-stoked Maricuca's Sidecar bright with passionfruit, lime and orange.

Convinced the bar found its equal in the kitchen, I replied, "That's nothing!" raising the martini glass that held Ecuadorian prawn ceviche ($7), sipping the remains of the marinade. "I'd walk here — in snow — for another one of these!"

Hyperbole? Come taste for yourself. Dinner or drinks, you'll begin with complimentary housemade plantain, malanga and yucca chips, served warm with salsa-nade, a deep-flavored dip aptly described as "somewhere between salsa and tapanade." Salads are enlivened with unusual vinaigrettes and tossed with pickled loroco flowers, starchy popped amaranth and grilled pineapple — among other exotica.

Indulge in asopao de marisco ($5/cup), a gumbolike Caribbean rice-and-seafood soup, but tread carefully through the bocaditos. Among these "little bites" are bacalaito, salt-cod fritters distinctive for their blandness ($6) and pupusas (stuffed cornmeal cakes, $5), heavyweights vaguely hinting of queso blanco and upstaged by a bed of spicy bean stew. Far more inviting are alcapurrias — chubby plantain and green-banana fritters whose shredded beef adds spirit and spice ($5). The surprise at dessert is a chocolate cake with a capsicum kick ($6). Piri piri spice produces a slow burn that echoes several beats after the cake's molten center dissolves on the tongue.

But the biggest revelation of all? Gitano's entrees, whose soul-satisfying sides include grilled and sautéed chayote squash, cassava escabeche and Puerto Rican arroz con gandules — rice and pigeon peas just like abuela used to make.

Surely there's mojo working in the smoked-pork tenderloin ($18), scented with smoky Spanish paprika and doing a tantalizing tango with mojo criollo, a tart sauce spright with sofrito, roasted garlic, vinegar and tomato. Argentina's favorite condiment, chimichurri, favors breast of chicken rolled and infused with oil, vinegar, parsley, garlic and pepper ($14), a magic moistener magnifying the chicken's simple appeal. Butterflied crispy whole trout proved a treat ($16), as did a vegetarian's vision: a custardy griddled coconut corn cake anchoring a melange of sweet bananas, winter greens and a mash of roasted pumpkin "flan" ($14). A 16-ounce rib-eye garnished with Cabrales butter arrives on a hubcap-sized plate, the lusty Spanish blue cheese supplying a salty finish for the well-marbled steak ($24).

Gitano lacks a strong front-of-the-house presence — if you discount the fellow tending bar on various visits, a goofy young guy recycled from the last go-round as Gypsy. Polished, he's not. But when he mixes a drink and presents it with a grin, like Miss Sarah Brown, I go "Ding Dong Ding Dong Ding!"

Nancy Leson: nleson@seattletimes.com.