The grillwork that reinforces the windows of El Barrio Restaurante Latino fits right in with the neighbourhood, but with a slight difference. While other storefronts near the intersection of East Hastings and Nanaimo streets have plain iron bars, El Barrio’s are forest green and resemble climbing vines. The restaurant’s scarlet awning also stands out, calling to customers with its cheerful hue. This ’hood may be a bit rough around the edges, but El Barrio is a welcoming spot.

“I like this area,” says owner Luis Montalvo, who has lived in the Hastings-Sunrise area for five years. “I think it has great things coming.” Reached on his cellphone while walking his dog, Montalvo explains that his neighbours are friendly and that every year the neighbourhood is changing for the better.

The restaurant’s name reflects the neighbourhood. “You can say you’re from the barrio and people think you’re tough,” Montalvo jokes. But really, he explains, barrio is just Spanish for district or borough—whether that’s East Van or the West Side.

Montalvo’s original barrio is in San Salvador, El Salvador, where he grew up. The restaurant’s food, however, is “not really Salvadoran”. In the twisting path that led him to Vancouver, Montalvo spent a year working in Cancún, where he fell hard for Mexico’s vibrant flavours. “I identify more with Mexican food than Salvadoran,” he says. But the restaurant’s dishes “aren’t typical Mexican food” either. Rather, they’re riffs on Latino and Mexican food. (Before opening El Barrio in August, Montalvo worked in restaurant management for many years, but he’s also a Red Seal–certified chef. He designed El Barrio’s menu, and works in the kitchen besides running the place.)

El Barrio’s starters ($6.95 to $10.95) include sopa Azteca, Montalvo’s take on this tomato-based tortilla soup with avocado, and patas bravas (“upset potatoes”), a twist on a Spanish crispy-potato dish done with Mexican chipotles and garlic mayo. Mains ($13.95 to $17.95) range from basic burritos to hot-skillet shrimp marinated in tequila and lime. According to Montalvo, chiles rellenos—pan-fried poblano peppers stuffed with a dry-ricotta-type queso fresco cheese—is the restaurant’s most popular dish.

The night we dined at El Barrio, the room was so dimly lit I could barely read the menu. Flickering pillar candles, dark-red walls, and archways give the place an edgy, underground feel. It’s divided into two distinct sections—high bar tables at the front and down-market, coffee-shop tables at the back.

The meal started with a sizzling queso fundido, a ceramic crock of melted, stringy Oaxacan cheese melded with onions, tomatoes, green peppers, and epazote, a distinctive Mexican herb. Four small (perhaps four-inch) flour tortillas came with it to sop up all the deliciously gooey, although greasy, cheese. For $10.95, there should have been more tortillas to stretch this appetizer, but we made the most of them, dividing the cheese into four oozing bundles.

The main-course ropa vieja arrived as a mass of juicy, shredded beef alongside rice and black beans. There’s a reason for all that moisture: after shredding the cooked meat, Montalvo simmers it in the broth it was cooked in, with lots of garlic, green peppers, red peppers, and arbol chilies. The pastel Azteca—a lasagnalike casserole made of corn tortillas—was also satisfying. Layers of cheese, spinach, red and green salsa, and crema fresca made merry with cuitlacoche, an earthy, grainy, mushroomlike fungus that’s yummier than it sounds.

A piece of syrupy tres leches (“three milk”) vanilla cake big enough for two to share ended things sweetly. That is, until we got the bill.

They had charged us 25 cents per “extra” tortilla. (With our main course, the server had brought a basket containing two small tortillas—one per person. Finishing those, we had asked for two more.) More galling, we were billed $1.50 for the tiny dish of hot sauce we had requested.

Two bucks isn’t a big deal. But nobody likes to be nickel-and-dimed, especially for tortillas that aren’t even house-made. It only draws attention to the fact that El Barrio’s prices are slightly higher than similar eateries around town, which happily dole out complimentary chips and salsa, and sometimes even offer a range of complimentary salsas. These kinds of touches create happy customers.

El Barrio has the potential to become a neighbourhood gathering place. The food is good, and Montalvo hangs the work of community artists and invites local musicians to play. If El Barrio gives them a little more love, customers will likely return it.