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This venue is closed.

A former strip club and (later) porn shop, this now-airy loft, wedged between a Quizno's and a cab service, and overshadowed by the White Castle on the corner, keeps its focus squarely on good food, not other temptations of the flesh. The bacalao fritters are crispy on the outside and luscious within; velvety lentil soup is tinged with cloves and scotch-bonnet heat; and the moist carrot cake abandons its granola roots with pleasing nuggets of caramelized pineapple. The owner's Dominican mother comes in four times a week to prepare the restaurant's signature dish, the boneless fried-chicken chicharonne, which has dependably crispy-crunchy breading and pleasingly soft, juicy meat. For a side dish, choose the yellow rice studded with rich black olives over the bland sweet-potato fries. The clientele includes an eclectic mix of curious locals, Pratt students and well-heeled Latinos, but the austere 100-seat space, decorated with artworks by talented locals, feels coldly formal, given Tamboril's so-far modest following. — Michael Y. Park

Bacalao cakes, $7; lentil portobello-mushroom soup, $9; chicharonne, $12; carrot cake, $7