Don't expect the eating-out frills that you're accustomed to—like, say, a menu—to greet you at this tiny Bosnian restaurant formerly known as Ilidzanka (the place is now owned by a new family). Well, that's not exactly fair. If you speak Bosnian—and the vast majority of your tablemates will—you'll have a perfect grasp of the list of specialties printed on a flimsy sheet of paper. If you don't, count on Zlatan, the restaurant's owner, to be your guide, sitting down at your table to explain the various Bosnian delicacies in English. When he's at a loss for a word, Zlatan runs to the open kitchen, where an older woman splices up onions and presents you with a visual aid to supplement the broken translation.

The menu unfolds with three types of Bosnian soup containing either veggies, smoked beef or beans; cabbage stuffed with ground beef and rice; chevapi (Bosnian sausage); and the not-for-weak-of-heart Bosnian coffee. Sample liberally since little on the menu costs more than $10.

With light wood furniture, mellow peachy hues dominating the walls and curtains tied primly in the windows, the restaurant's atmosphere is perfectly pleasant. But the truly interesting details are found in people-watching. The group of regulars that frequent the spot have the one-big-happy-family gestures down pat: They kiss the owner on both cheeks, know everyone who comes through the door and kick back to smoke and watch the flat-screen TV as though they're in their own living rooms.

Centerstage Reviewer: Jennifer Berg