La Cofradia Ceviche Bar

Evolution allows one to adapt to his environment, instead of just dying: giraffes grew long necks to reach juicy buds, Arctic foxes rock white fur for obvious reasons, and humans grew opposable thumbs in a misguided effort to make Henry Winkler relevant. For a resto making Darwin proud, check out La Cofradia Ceviche Bar.

Once a fine dining joint with waiters in better jackets than yours, Cofradia shut its doors six months ago to roll with the economy's punches and morph into a leaner, more affordable spot with a less formal vibe, and a focus on accessible ceviches and Peruvian classics. Ceviche and thinly sliced tiraditos're all dutifully marinated in the house's own Leche de Tigre (lime juice & peppers), then customized into various versions like the "Oriental" (diced ahi with soy, ginger, sesame seed oil, & snow peas), the "Aji Amarillo" (fish of the day w/ the balanced spice of yellow chili paste), and the mucho spicy "Rocoto" with shrimp, octopus, & scallops in rocoto chili paste; all come with sides of sweet potato and plump, grape-sized kernels of Peruvian corn -- with super-corn like this, why aren't we all speaking Peruvian? Bigger cooked stuff includes braised short ribs marinated in Cab & veggies, served with polenta; lamb chops w/ mushroom risotto & rosemary sauce; and Saltados, Peru's version of stir-fry, with your choice of beef tenderloin, shrimp, or chicken, and served with sides like spaghetti, or a Peruvian mix of rice, beans, and bacon called Tacu Tacu -- try and eat it when Mork's around, and you'll get none-u none-u.

Cofradia's running Thurs/Fri happy hours (5 to 7pm), with slashed-price ceviche and drinks, and they also specialize in Peru's native drink, pisco sours; there're both classic and evolved versions like passion fruit and strawberry -- keep an eye on yours, or be confounded by the timeless evolutionary mystery of the Missing Drink.