3/5 stars
When your bill arrives at Mita's (only enjoyable to those who can't stand having money), it'll come attached to an anecdotal postcard about the head chef's grandmother. And while that's a sweet way send you out the door and poor, there are several dishes on this menu that may leave you just plain salty. Por ejemplo:
1) Salmon Crudo -- I probably wouldn't have ordered this if I knew what "crudo" was (Italian for "raw" and Sicily's answer to Sashimi), but I was on a 2nd date with a pretty girl. And everyone knows that you don't expose your trailer-grade sophistication as early as a 2nd date by asking definitional questions. So I took my chances, and my chances spit up what looked like a regurgitated green smoothie.
Now after posthumously having done some googling, I did learn that crudo is traditionally just prepared with olive oil/citrus juice/salt. That would've been a better bet than the Mita's version.
2) Platano Maduro -- this unsolicitedly landed on our table -- not sure if this was for dipping in the Ceviche de Camarones that simultaneously landed on our table, or if it was more like Mita's version of "free bread." In any case, these fried banana slices had an interesting bbq flavor and are likely to be commercialized if Chiquita ever moves their headquarters to Nashville.
3) Sopa de Patatas y Coliflor -- was more drawn to this hot soup because of the cold weather rather than its content. That, and the fact that our otherwise excellent waiter (Jake? At least his beard looked like a Jake) gave his full endorsement.
The soup's viscosity and color were quite honestly no different than microwaved ranch dressing, and the bacon bits on top didn't do any favors in channeling my mouth's memory away from PTSD (Post Traumatic Salad Disorder).
4) Pisco Sour -- this drink is native to Peru (though Chile may have something to say about that), and I've been lucky enough to try local versions in both countries. The Mita's one is certainly not as good, but certainly as strong -- it had me humming along on the way home to Nick Lachey's solo work.
...WITH ALL THAT SAID....
The housemade ice cream here may be better than both Graeters' and UDF (and I have UDF's number stored in my iPhone Favorites). Try their Pawpaw ice cream, derived from a "tropical fruit native to SE Ohio/West Virginia." There's nothing tropical about either of those places, but this ice cream will create a tropical party in your mouth.
OTHER TIPS
1) I tried to make a 7pm reservation earlier in the day on a Thursday, and the closest option was 8pm. 8pm is a little too formal for a second date, but being the social-planning version of a swivel chair allowed to me to adjust just fine. In any case, just about every table was taken when we arrived; also, they did say over the phone that "we're a reservation-based restaurant." Which is code for "sorry we don't serve Bud Light."
2) It's tough to ever feel satisfied with a cold dish, even when it's meant to be cold. So with that in mind, steer clear of the "Ceviches y Crudos" section.
AMBIENCE
They do play good latin music at a reasonable volume -- not too loud that you have to talk over it, but loud enough that it's consistently noticeable.
And if you're used to the walk-in closet sized OTR restaurants, this is going to feel like Batman's foyer. But they could've squeezed in a few more tables, as the collective energy feels lost in the vast space.
Long story short = I'm gonna need a groupon to come back here.