FINKA Table & Tap, Miami’s Beloved Baby Sister

A restaurant review

I can envision it now: I’m landing at Miami International, visiting my hometown for the first time in months. Every monumental meal I’ve had in New York, while truly inspirational, has seemed to melt away from my memory’s eye. An old muse has reentered my sights, and her name is Islas Canarias croquetas. My sister picks me up from the airport, and without question, she heads straight to the drive thru on 26th street and 137th ave. You may be thinking, “Drive thru? How good could they be?” They are sensational. Three croquetas de la casa — that smooth ham filling pressed with my thumb against a saltine carefully removed from one of the ten packets thrown loose in the brown paper bag. I think to myself, I will use the rest of these as bread crumbs later, and never do. Squeeze a lime wedge and then I take that first bite. Feeling the breading of the blessed croqueta blend so seamlessly into the savory ham filling, coating my tongue with every fond memory of growing up, I take a sip of a piping hot café con leche, finally back in tune with my hometown after being away.

FINKA Table and Tap, Islas Canarias’ sister restaurant, has been around for about a decade, give or take a few years in either direction. Right down the street from my alma mater, the oaky restaurant flaunts a decadent menu of Latin and East Asian fusion, as well as a few American classics, pizza, and cocktails to prime up any customer for a fantastic meal. Having never spoken to the chef who conceived one of my consistently favorite menus in Miami, I am tempted to dub the cuisine new American, as is any menu that’s being honest with itself in the United States these days. FINKA is full of servers walking around in their black tees bearing the logo of Miami-Dade County altered to read, “Croqueta County.” It’s not uncommon for the restaurant to have a mild wait, which is honestly welcomed. Imagine consistently going into your favorite restaurant and you’re immediately seated in a quiet, flat dining room where the only sounds are the clinking and clanking of your own silverware. That is the sound of a new favorite restaurant in the near future. If the wait is half an hour or longer, I take a seat at the bar and begin my evening.

I open up with a Cuban old fashioned. It’s a must for me. The bourbon perfectly blended with the bitters, diluted just so with a single, large cube of ice, accents of orange oils expressed from the spindling peel, and the star of the cocktail, putting the Cuban in Cuban old fashioned — the Café Bustelo simple syrup. The bartenders at FINKA skip the plain sugar cube and introduce a new element of depth to grandpa’s old fashioned. It’s rare for me to find a spin on a classic that doesn’t strike me as gaudy, but this is subtle enough where my tastebuds let out a quiet, breathy, genius — the way some people compulsively scoff after a refreshing drink of water.

Once I’m at the table with my loved ones around me, a drink in my stomach, glowing with anticipation for the meal ahead, I begin chatting up the server with the confidence only a stiff drink could give me. What does the set up of the kitchen look like? Is the chef a plate thrower? Which one of the line cooks is the ace, and what station are they on so I can order one of each? They field the questions from their heels hoping for a straightforward table for once. The appetizers are in, and my mouth is watering.

Opening with the ceviche nikkei is light, refreshing, cold, and loaded with flavor — hitting all the key notes for a ceviche. Chunkily diced pieces of tuna, avocado, little bobbles of crunchy buckwheat, and a garnish of chili threads all stirred in a bold ginger citrus dressing showcase the chef’s ability to operate under two vast umbrellas and stay focused on exactly where the union of flavors will occur. Served in a reflective metal bowl, it gives the impression that I’m enjoying it with the chef as the concept came to fruition for the first time. A really nice start to the meal.

Then we venture into the hot plates with the arroz con pollo fritters. Beautifully breaded and fried to a delicious golden brown, you can feel the crisp exterior buckle under the side of your fork as it opens the fritter to a delectable arroz con pollo center. If that classic plate were put in front of me without the concise presentation of the fritter it would conjure a memory of my Tia’s house and her gem of an arroz con pollo, beautifully sculpted together by the individual grains of yellow rice embellished with the fat rendered out of the chicken thighs and beer. The fritters are topped with a house aioli and some nasturtium leaves. The three dainty leaves were regrettably lacking a real contribution to the dish, however, but on the plate in a way I was forced to acknowledge. Then when the real food was gone this wilted little weed was lying dejected on the plate, shedding a single tear. Nonetheless, it is a picayune atop the rich bites of a scrumptious arroz con pollo fritter. Next time I dine at FINKA Table & Tap, I must ask if they can be served by the bucket.

Now, let’s take a moment to acknowledge the real reason I return to FINKA every time I land in Miami. While the cocktails are a real treat, and the appetizers are keen, there is nothing like the Islas Canarias croqueta pizza. Those South Florida classics — Islas Canarias croquetas — sliced into delicious rounds and scattered throughout the perfect medium pie, a lime wedge perched in the middle, finished with the greenest leaves of parsley. There is no way in which I eat an Isla Canarias croqueta and do not absolutely adore it. I can feel the contempt from every New Yorker with a plane slice firmly in hand, but I realize that it’s never just banter with a fanatic. However, I would like to offer a concise response: THIS is not THAT. This is Miami on a pie. This is the versatility of a classic snack carrying an entire plate on its back once again. This is the marvel of a dish within a dish. Give that lime a nice, hard squeeze over the pie and dig in. You’ll see just what I mean.

Many restaurants seep into mediocrity when boasting an expansive menu. The vision proves to be too lofty for the prowess of the chefs and cooks. Patrons are left playing roulette deciding between pancakes and seafood paella. FINKA Table & Tap is the Pinball Wizard’s silver ball covering culinary ground with decidedness in its execution, never slipping below the flippers in quality. The marriage of Latin and East Asian flavors on this ambitious menu is thoughtful and seamless in a way that gives the impression that the two have always been together. Every time I stand up to leave FINKA Table & Tap, the little sister of that Miami-Dade staple, Islas Canarias, I make an attempt to catch a cook’s eye as they restock their stations for the next push just to pat my burgeoning stomach, and mouth a most sincere, “Thank you.”

The last time I dined at FINKA Table & Tap, I did not order desert, but enjoyed an after dinner carajillo made with Licor 43. My mom recommended the cocktail after telling us all how when she was 16 she used to polish off her parent’s empties when clearing the table after having guests over for dinner.