Philadelphia Weekly

People say you can find love in the strangest places. The dentist's office, Target, farmers markets (if you believe the The 40-Year-Old Virgin).

Cupid struck me on a trash-strewn stretch of West Snyder Avenue near a greasy Chinese restaurant that sold me beer when I was 17. I remember the day I first spotted Caf� con Chocolate, an unlikely seedling of gentrification among the weedy thickets of old-man bars and decaying catering halls.

Well-watered plants in the windows. Chalkboard menu on the sidewalk. And--wow!--a La Colombe sticker.

Part Fritalian coffeehouse, part Poblano taqueria and part Tokyo teppan bar, Caf� con Chocolate is exactly the sort of multiethnic babe my grandparents wouldn't approve of. Her neighborhood might not be the prettiest, but fear not, yuppies. Inside, the Ikea furniture, cafe windows and local art installations will ease the trigger fingers off your Prius' panic buttons.

Southwestern knickknacks, Aztec tchotchkes and iron lanterns make the exposed brick and distressed hardwood setting feel like a Santa Fe yard sale exploded inside a West Village coffeehouse. In a good way.

The walls are cocoa-bean brown and tiger-lily orange, and the round copper tables glimmer like ancient sundials. Latin crooners play over speakers attached to a computer so old it looks like a Bayside High relic. A stack of reading material below a portrait of Woody Allen includes Newsweek, a Chagall hardback and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

The location, the decor, the five Asian dishes on the Mexican menu--all weird. As is the fact that chef/owner Yoshiko Yamasaki speaks with a florid Spanish accent and certainly appears to be of Mexican descent. But weird can be charming, adorable, warm and fuzzy. Sometimes you can fall for weird.

What's really weird is that I don't want to purge myself in the bathroom after consuming the spicy chorizo empanadas and pea-studded picadillo tostadas. Mexican food is great, but sometimes it's just so ... heavy. At Caf� con Chocolate there's no deep-fried rock wedged in my esophagus, no grease dripping down my arm like a pork-based moisturizer.

The pierna torta, a Mexican-style grinder, is stuffed with tender tatters of succulent but not greasy pig. Beneath a green carpet of shredded lettuce, the nachos are remarkably light thanks to judicious streaks of sour cream, guacamole and pureed chipotle. At breakfast the guava smoothies are icy and fresh, the flaky empanadillas filled with not-too-sweet raspberry jam, and fluffy scrambled huevos with queso-flecked refried beans are like a protein bar in disguise. Even the spice-quenching aguas frescas are refreshingly light. Prepared with sticky tamarind pulp or tart magenta hibiscus flowers, they taste like healthy tonics from an Acapulco pharmacy.

With trepidation I try two Asian items. Yamasaki grills zucchini, eggplant and mushrooms teppanyaki-style with soy and sesame seeds. The charred, flavorful result is a vegetarian's dream.

Made with ground sirloin, the Indian beef curry looks like the love child of Kumar and the Hamburger Helper. There are potatoes, onions and tender button mushrooms, all swirling around white rice in a fragrant tide of red curry. It shouldn't be delicious, but it is--especially when Yamasaki offers a tube of cherry chutney from her personal stash.

Skip the pastry case in favor of simple homemade sweets like dainty tamales dulces and broken tortillas drizzled with Mexican brown sugar syrup. Enriched with chocolate, cinnamon and almonds, the Oaxacan mocha is Swiss Miss gone south of the border, while the triple-thick mango milkshake is what I'd imagine Se�or Softie sells in the sweltering summers of Mexico City.

Lovestruck, I leave, cross the street and gaze longingly back at the sunflower-yellow cafe trimmed in robin's-egg blue. This lick of sunshine manages to brighten up the whole block. Suddenly the struggling row homes look like ripe investments, an abandoned lot appears a perfect spot for an organic heirloom tomato garden, and the bootleg DVD guy with a busted duffel bag looks an awful lot like an ambitious entrepreneur.

Caf� con Chocolate
2100 S. Norwood St. 267-639-4506www.cafeconchocolate.com
Cuisine: Mexican ... and Japanese.
Hours: Tues.-Fri., 8am-8pm; Sat., 10am-8pm; Sun., 10am-3pm.
Prices: $1.50-$8.
Sound advice: Convivial.
Atmosphere: Ugly Betty's living room.
Service: Familial.
Food: Remarkably fresh, light, delicious and cheap.