Third Coast Cuisine

A little dancing can always liven a joint up, whether it's a wedding reception hall, a disco-ball'd high school gym, or an abandoned factory where Kevin Bacon apparently also trained to be an Olympic-level gymnast. Livening up your dinner with same: Sangria 51.

Sangria’s a cozy unpretentious tapas 'n more joint with a few tables, a loveseat, a rack of Spanish magazines out front, and an inside decked with jai alai jerseys/ soccer on the wall, photos of ocean waves beating against the rocks, and a small mirror-backed stage for flamenco dancing, which you can actually hop on yourself Mon-Wed (the pros handle Thurs-Sat) for "open stage", also the Mario level where he admits he thinks Luigi is an herb. Shareable light bites swing authentic Spanish, and include meatballs w/ almond sauce, fresh sausage w/ cider sauce, all manner of croquetas (codfish w/ onion; one with chicken, chorizo, beef, and pork), and steamed octopus on a bed of sliced potatoes w/ olive oil, sea salt, paprika, and a dash of Cajun spice, who was forced to leave the Girls, as she made backstage smell like crawfish. They’re also working up full-sized mains like Valencian-style paella; filet mignon w/ Manchego pisto; fresh grouper w/ potatoes and veggies; and jumbo grilled shrimp w/ Russian potato salad, which presumably uses the red kind.

Because government studies show drinking is fun, Sangria’s stocking a grip of wines by the bottle, red, white, and rose by the glass, some beers, and naturally, sangria, including pitchers of red, white, and cava, although you really shouldn’t let John Lithgow find you with any of this, dude can’t even tolerate a little Kenny Loggins.