With all the yuppies and bright colors and self-aggrandizing chef accolades in the lobby, this showy restaurant couldn’t be good—could it?

Andina is the rare upmarket case where the combination works. The bar area is lively; everyone is having fun and drinking strong cocktails, and there are warm colors and a bustle. The dining room is a bit more sedate, but equally warm, and we love the area of outdoor tables on the floor below, which has the feel of a cute courtyard overlooked by a balcony within the restaurant.

The menu is divided into “platos criollos” (traditional Peruvian) and “platos novoandinos” (nouvelle Andean), of which we favor the former: seco a la norteña (a nicely braised lamb shank), a surprisingly flavorful vegetarian squash soup, and such. Even when nouvelle creations get overly elaborate, their execution is generally spot on. There are special vegetarian and gluten-free menus, as well.

The real highlight, though, is the tapas menu, which centers around Peruvian with some Spanish conceits. Causa (a sort of molded terrine) is terrific, whether it’s done as morada (made from irresistible purple potatoes and smoked chicken) or mixta nikkei (with spicy tuna, crab salad, and fried shrimp—a nod to the sizeable Japanese community in Peru that has deeply influenced the country’s modern cuisine). In the “chicharrón de langostinos,” quinoa batter forms such an impenetrable barrier between frying oil and jumbo shrimp that it’s able to keep the meat remarkably moist even while obtaining a deeply browned crust. Of the formidable array of ceviches, we love the simplest: a silky fish of the day, kissed gently by citrus. Even the most elemental dish on the menu, grilled asparagus, gets a nice char from the fire and richness from olive oil.

Rare are missteps like piquillo peppers stuffed with barely noticeable cheese, overcooked jamón serrano, and a quinoa mixture that falls apart when you cut into it. And although people love the three sauces that come with bread to begin with, we’re not sold; the bread isn’t the freshest, and the sauces tend to be prosaic and oversweet.

The wine list stretches from Old World to New, and is astute and well priced; there are several good bottles here under $40. There are also several interesting, if often sweet, Nuevo Latino cocktails. Ask for the “tortuga”—gin shaken with cucumber, lime, mint, and sugar—with half the sugar, and you’re in for a delicious treat. Or just keep it simple and stick to sangría, the perfect date drink.