Walking into Las Palmas is like entering a Mexican Narnia: There's more (and more) of the restaurant than one would ever expect from its unassuming exterior. The journey begins in the front room: plush black banquettes, crisp white tablecloths and heavy-duty art (think Frida Kahlo and mournful black and white photographs). But all whimsy is not lost: Look up and you'll find yourself face to face with a silver palm tree trunk, laid on its side and strapped to the ceiling. The leaves (las palmas, if you will) burst into an artful display for the window above the restaurant's door. The bar behind the main dining room is all dark blue magic: half-melted candles in wooden bowls and a niche of devotion for the Virgin of Guadalupe (she and her signature starry robe are painted on the wall). The warm, Spanish-speaking bartenders keep busy tearing up fresh sprigs of mint for Las Palmas' specialty cocktails; the full bar features 50 tequilas, mango margaritas and a Latin American wine list.

Behind the bar, a second dining room occupies a greenhouse-like space. The walls are made of glass, the ceilings are soaring, and it opens onto a fairly spacious area of patio seating where patrons sit next to walls covered in colorful murals. But enough about appearances, more about appetizers: The menu offers Mexican classics ranging from tortilla soup to tacos, enchiladas and fajitas. For something a little different, try the salmon a la naranja (a pan-seared filet of salmon in an orange salsa with a pico de gallo made from sweet potato, papaya and mango.) You'll stumble back into the real world more stuffed than a chile relleno.

Centerstage Reviewer: Jennifer Berg