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Dominicans call mamajuana – the potion of wine, honey, herbs, and rum -- a natural aphrodisiac. You could say the same about Mamajuana Café, a loungey, laid-back roost for upper Manhattan’s beautiful people. Good-looking servers sway their hips to tropical tunes as they double-kiss a stream of casual-chic regulars sipping signature cocktails. Mostly terrific tapas, served on sleek white porcelain rectangles, fuse Dominican and other Latin flavors into alluring combinations like salty-sweet cod-stuffed plantain and “free-form Spanish” pizzas topped with chorizo or picante peppers. Both romantic and kitschy, the wide, dim room is outfitted with dark-wood beams and plank floors, along with a giant, smiling sun painted over the wood-burning oven and a “Ponce de Leon” floor lamp bearing bulbs on a spear. Tuesdays and Thursdays, the atmosphere heats up with live flamenco and bossa nova (but alas, no dancing). Weekends, the place practically erupts as the whole neighborhood seems to squeeze in. — Michael Kaminer

Madero relleno de bacalao, $10; salmon, $22; cordero, $24