Right off, I’m going to admit that I spent a few minutes wandering around the suburban strip mall in front of Amelia’s 1931 without finding the door.
I knew in advance that the restaurant recently expanded into the neighboring space, so finally we tried a door for the dry cleaner. It opened to a small entranceway with a rack of plastic-wrapped clothes hanging from a high shelf. A washing machine spun below. To our right, we found a host stand, a red velvet roped line, and behind it, a woman with a knowing smile for confused first-timers.
The reward for locating Amelia’s 1931 is a restaurant that nails every element, from its stylish underground supper club vibe to dishes that are inventive while drawing on nostalgic Cuban recipes.
Most likely, you already know the chef, Eileen Andrade, from Barbakoa by Finka in Doral and Finka Table & Tap, which combines Cuban and Korean ingredients. In 2017, Andrade opened the first version of Amelia's 1931, a humble Cuban lunch counter named after her grandmother, whose recipes are laced into the menu. After taking over the dry cleaning space, Andrade decided to elevate and bring in Korean and Peruvian flavors.
The expanded restaurant is stunning, with 127-seat seats framed by illuminated arches along the back wall. Frilly lampshades cast a caramel glow above a row of gangster booths. At any moment, it feels like a 1950s flamenco party or Prohibition raid might pop off.
As she’s done before, Andrade incorporates Korean ingredients into her dishes in unexpected ways—and she’s a downright master at making them work, like in the gochujang seafood paella and kimchi clam chowder. The escargot comes still in its shells, each one serving as a transportation device for addictive umami butter. Below the halibut is an inky black garlic sauce that’s deeply earthy and addictive. Then there’s the tamal en cazuela, a traditional Cuban pork dish Andrade prepares with braised oxtail and an oozy cornmeal mash; it’s a whole lot like ropa vieja atop polenta, but more sophisticated and adventurous.
For dessert, we went with the timba, inspired by the snacks Cuban abuelas give kids after school: crackers covered in cream cheese and guava jelly. It’s served in a martini glass, layered and looking pretty, cookies fanned out on the top. It’s a simple dish that’s a whole lot like the restaurant itself: evocative of something you’ve had before but rendered a bit differently and, yes, better.
Walking out, we noticed a couple looking left and right without finding the entrance. Should we help them? Nah, finding it is part of the adventure.
