Under a Neon Moon

When Rumba Satay Bar & Grill brought its metal palm trees, Uruguayan cheeseburgers and crisp rum drinks to West End Avenue in 2003, it was like a breath of mint-infused air wafting down the congested corridor. But as enticing as owner Tom Sheffer’s roster of equatorial cocktails and tapas was, the location was something of a gamble. Two restaurants had recently come and gone at that address, prompting naysayers to place bets on when Rumba, too, would close its cheery blue doors.

Five years later, Rumba’s traffic-side patio pulses with the improbable vibe of a beach-front bar. If there are naysayers among the young and attractive crowd, they are most likely eating crow, along with their satay skewers, ceviche and brick-oven-fired flatbreads, because Rumba has proven to be an oasis with staying power.

Folks should have known better than to wager against Sheffer, whose creative formula for patio dining established his Jackson’s Bar & Bistro as a landmark in Hillsboro Village. Looking back through cachaça-colored glasses, it’s clear that Sheffer was ahead of the curve when he brought South and Central American delights such as chivitos (Uruguayan cheeseburgers), chimichurri (Argentine pesto) and caipirinhas (a Brazilian cocktail made with cachaça, lime and sugar) to Nashville’s main drag. Since 2002—the year before Rumba diners first mispronounced “cachaça”—U.S. imports of the sugarcane liquor have more than tripled. Having identified an appetite for caipirinhas and mojitos (rum muddled with lime, mint and sugar) Sheffer introduced about a dozen creative spins on the traditional recipes.

Folks should have known better than to wager against Sheffer, whose creative formula for patio dining established his Jackson’s Bar & Bistro as a landmark in Hillsboro Village. Looking back through cachaça-colored glasses, it’s clear that Sheffer was ahead of the curve when he brought South and Central American delights such as chivitos (Uruguayan cheeseburgers), chimichurri (Argentine pesto) and caipirinhas (a Brazilian cocktail made with cachaça, lime and sugar) to Nashville’s main drag. Since 2002—the year before Rumba diners first mispronounced “cachaça”—U.S. imports of the sugarcane liquor have more than tripled. Having identified an appetite for caipirinhas and mojitos (rum muddled with lime, mint and sugar) Sheffer introduced about a dozen creative spins on the traditional recipes.

Beyond the caipirinha and mojito menus, Rumba offers more than a dozen unusual cocktails, which swirl with fruit pulp and gem colors without looking overwrought and goofy. Combinations such as the Pacific pearl (vodka, ginger-infused lemonade and mint), lotus martini (gin, lychee juice, grenadine, blue curacao and mint) and campesina (tequila with muddled limes and raw sugar) set a creative and fresh tone that resonates throughout the meal. Don’t miss the whiskey Thai—a shamelessly and seductively pimped-out julep with Jack Daniel’s, citrus, mint, coriander and ginger. (Beware: The drinks are small and delicious, which can make for a dangerous cocktail, especially on a thirsty summer night.)

With a broad range of small plates and entrées that pay homage to far-flung destinations, Rumba’s menu lends itself well to sharing and exploring. Two years into the business, Sheffer brought in a brick oven and launched a menu of pizzas and flatbreads under the brand “Fuego at Rumba.” Chef Joseph Rozario cures pork and trout in-house to adorn naans and toasted baguette rounds, which are sold as small, exotic appetizers. Also on the Fuego menu, $2 buys a spoonful of ceviche, with combinations such as Cabo (shrimp with tomato salsa, jalapeno and tortilla strips) and Inca (tuna with sweet potatoes, lime and cinnamon-dusted popcorn). We greedily devoured a scoop of Lima, which blended buttery bay scallops with pineapple salsa and toasted coconut in a single sumptuous bite.

Back on the main menu of small plates, the tempura roll offered a generous serving of tuna wrapped in rice and nori and deep-fried with a light tempura batter. Among the more interesting things we tasted were North Island lychees, stuffed with chorizo, flash-fried and drizzled with a smoked tomato-coconut coulis. The unusual pairing of smooth, sweet lychees—like large skinless grapes—with the nubbly, salty sausage and the smokey sauce made for an intriguing variation on poppers.

Anyone who ever tasted the gratuitously large and caloric chivito—a steak sandwich smothered in cheese, bacon, fried egg and sautéed vegetables—at the recently shuttered Nola’s Uruguayan-influenced restaurant across the street might be disappointed by the size and composition of Rumba’s chivitos, which are more like sliders. But without an epic benchmark nearby, Rumba’s trio of tiny burgers topped with Manchego cheese and prosciutto makes for a satisfying sop for so much cachaça.

Roasted pork belly stood out among the small plates as more of an entrée. After the clean ceviche spoons and colorful finger foods, the grey block of pork looked decidedly monolithic by comparison. The brined and braised meat was surprisingly tender, however, accented with brittle bites of roasted fat with the crackle of hard candy. The combination of honey-molasses reduction and smoked-tomato relish provided plenty of moisture and a balance of sweetness and tang. Priced at $13, the pork was a reassuringly bulky cornerstone for a meal of so many small bites.