Somewhere in the downstairs kitchens of Jose Andres’s Oyamel, five gallons of fresh lime juice are squeezed each day for use in the many margaritas ordered by restaurant patrons. In fact, every plate and glass is filled only with fresh ingredients, according to Joe Raffa, the chef who heads the new-to-DC Mexican tapas restaurant that opened in February at 401 7th Street, NW, transplanted from its original spot in Crystal City.

I didn’t know about this commitment to cooking from scratch when I was first presented with the large, brown paper menu that describes the potentially overwhelming number of dishes on offer, but I knew it with my first bite. It was the tuna ceviche, which arrived in delicate wrappers bundled with jicama, onion, and cilantro. The fish itself was incredibly fresh beneath the bright citrus marinade, and its accompaniments balanced texture and flavor so that each element became a necessary player in the dish as a whole. This artful blending is true of all the ceviche offerings at Oyamel, though my favorite is the scallop ceviche, served and best enjoyed by sipping juice, fruit, scallop and chili oil right out of the shell.

Salads also make refreshing openings to meals that can run from hot and spicy to rich and complex. The “ensalada de chayote” is a crispy blend of the increasingly familiar squash, crushed peanuts, and cheese. A longtime lover of Thai green papaya salad, I fell in love with this Mexican cousin instantly. The “gaspacho” offered here bears no similarity to the tomato soup many restaurants serve in the summer; instead, it is a tangy salad of chopped fruit. More familiar, but interesting both for the eye and the tongue, is the hearts of palm salad, which includes the slight bitterness of its title element, the creamy richness of avocado and brightly sweet orange segments.

Those salads – and every dish on the menu – are modeled on traditional Mexican food, which is not what many Americans are used to finding when they “go out for Mexican.” Oyamel, according to Raffa, seeks to reveal the country’s rich cultural heritage to DC diners. The dining room is filled with Mexican crafts, and the projections running near the ceviche bar are scenes filmed in Oyamel’s land of inspiration. But the food is the primary site of cultural exploration, and patrons willing to ask questions beyond the menu’s hints will discover the complicated roots of a cuisine that has been too often Americanized. (All of the staff here were extraordinarily helpful and friendly on every visit – save one busy night when everything from seating to check delivery seemed off.)

When speaking of the mix of Northern and Southern regional cuisines on the menu, Raffa said, “The ingredients are the same, but the styles of cooking, of preparation, are dramatically different.”

Nearly everything used in Oyamel is authentically Mexican – even the hand-juicers perfectly sized for each citrus being squeezed. The first one I saw was used in the table-side guacamole preparation, and if you like guacamole, you will love Oyamel’s. It begins with onion, peppers, cilantro, and salt rubbed together mortar-and-pestle style before tomatillos, avocado, and lime juice (from a green juicer, as described above) are added. The chunky mix is topped with queso fresco and presented with chips. It is more than enough to share, and well worth the calories. My dining companion and I couldn’t stop munching even when other dishes arrived.

Soups at Oyamel are also large enough to share. Spicy, smoky, salty broths stand up to the complex chunkiness of their contents (chicken or seafood, vegetables, rice, corn dumplings), so there is no urge to eat the star ingredients and leave the supporting players.  Everything’s a star in those bowls. The avocado and crab soup, served cold with swirls of cream and chipotle oil on top, is a complicated star in its own right. The layers of smooth creaminess and hot spiciness made it much more than I expected. The best of a fine bunch, however, is the black bean soup. Smoky heat lies just beneath the surface of a thick, black puree that offers a richly layered flavor that rivals the taste experience of a fine glass of wine.

Most of a meal at Oyamel, however, should be made up of small plates. The salads described above are one category, but seafood, meats, and vegetables all get their own listings. (And, yes, all the items listed under “vegetables,” over a dozen, are vegetarian.) This is the part of the menu where taking risks can pay off. My dining companion ordered the braised short ribs with mole verde sauce more than once and was rewarded each time by impossibly tender meat that fell apart at the touch of his fork, and I couldn’t stop eating the cheese and truffle quesadilla even though it arrived at the end of a filling meal.

Some of the more familiar dishes don’t stand up to their compatriots. The mushroom enchilada was a blend of acidic sauce and too-thick tortilla, and the seared scallops with pumpkin seed sauce, while perfectly cooked and fresh, seemed to be missing something. It is worth noting here that my dinner date on that evening happily devoured the scallops I found merely passable, nearly licking the plate with joy.

I discovered the excellent corn tamale thanks to a red circle of recommendation by Raffa and his staff. Each night, the chef marks items to help patrons weed through the menu, and I honestly would not have ordered a tamale otherwise. I was rewarded by a dish with a texture between good cornbread and bread pudding with the sweetness of corn and plenty of fresh kernels cooked inside. Perched atop a single strip of the traditional corn tamale wrap, this tamale was elegant and easy to eat.

A special offered another night was equally delicious and worth the risk. An ancho chili, arriving skinless, tender and warm, was filled with black beans and thick, melted cheese. Again, I have never liked peppers of any kind stuffed with anything, but the chefs at Oyamel showed me how such a dish should be presented and why it should be eaten. The smoke and heat of the chili enlivened the rich beans and creamy cheese, and the balance sang from the first bite to the last. This and many of the specials at Oyamel are created by the restaurant’s sous chefs, who also worked with Raffa to retool the menu used at Oyamel in Virginia before the winter opening. This particular creation would make an excellent addition to that already fine document.

Tacos are described in their own menu category, and I understood their variety when Chef Raffa told me that while he could not choose a favorite dish on the menu, he often finds himself with a tortilla in hand pulling ingredients from the line before eating his own creation. The taco containing baby pig, pork rinds, onion and cilantro was the hit at my table, thanks to its crunch and the simple harmony of all its ingredients. The barbequed pork, however, was a close second primarily because of the pickled onions inside. And, yes, we had the grasshopper taco, an Oyamel signature from its first rendition across the river. The key ingredient offered the expected crunch, but the sauce was the central flavor here – a very good sauce with a rich, onion base. Raffa believes many people order the “tacos de chapulines” as a dare or a joke, but I am pleased to tell you that they are worth eating for much more than a laugh.

I usually have no room for dessert, but on my most recent visit, I opted for the “cajeta tradicional y moderna,” which didn’t sound like a sorbet sundae in the menu description, but it most certainly was. Passion fruit and coconut sorbet were surrounded with traditional Mexican cajeta, similar to caramel, and the whole affair was topped with fresh mango and crumbled shortbread. The seemingly contradictory flavors, which seems to be the signature of Oyamel’s food, worked brilliantly together. My partner opted for the sopa fria, a fresh fruit salad that features many textures – including real gelatin flavored with vanilla and lime and yogurt-lime sorbet. The many fruit notes and non-fruit ingredients made it a refreshing end note.

The drinks at Oyamel deserve elaboration. First, their “aquas frescas,” fresh-squeezed fruit water in flavors of watermelon, pineapple, and mango, are made in the restaurant. These colorful, non-alcoholic options can make non-drinkers feel more special than a soda or tonic and lime, and for the more adventurous (or Southwest transplants), Oyamel serves horchata, a traditional Mexican rice milk flavored with sugar and almonds. I had my first horchata in Arizona, just north of the Mexican border, and while it is an acquired taste, it is worth a try.

Those craving a margarita will thank the staff member who squeezed all that lime juice, as the signature margarita here, called the Oyamel, is the best such drink I have had in DC. The Mexican gin and tonic arrives green and very smooth, thanks to Hendrick’s cucumber-infused gin, and many brands of Mexican beer are also on hand, as are the longest list of tequilas that I have encountered outside a good liquor store. As for Oyamel’s wine list, the reds seem consistently better than the whites and the bottles better than the glasses. I did try a glass of the Flor de Guadelupe blanc de blanc, one of a number of Mexican wines served here, and while the finish was at first taste too tinny, it matched oddly well with everything I ordered that night, enhancing and extending many of the rich flavors.

Oyamel is honestly a place where food speaks for place, and the voice of Mexico under the careful hand of Chef Joe Raffa is deep, smooth and very inviting. Surprisingly, Raffa has never been to Mexico, and he was last in charge of the kitchen at The Majestic Café in Virginia, making Southern fare. However, he and his team clearly have a passion for good food that would likely translate in any cuisine. I am quite glad to have found it at Oyamel.