Conga's

Published Feb. 24, 2010 at 7:40 p.m.
Faking it, just not quite making it
The first clue to a fake restaurant is a phony name. Conga's isn't owned by an Afro-Cuban dance rhythm, and doesn't serve drums. Instead, it has a Spanish and South American menu cooked by Central Americans for Thai owners whose previous Japanese restaurant in this space didn't catch on.

COOKED TO ORDER Garlic shrimp arrive at your table raw in sizzling oil — you remove them when ready, so they’re never overcooked (unless you like them that way).

Conga’s One Eliot Street, Cambridge 617.868.8882  Open Monday–Thursday, 11:30 am–10 pm; Friday, 11:30 am–1 am; and Saturday and Sunday, noon–1 am AE, DI, MC, VI Full bar No valet parking; validated discount for parking at Charles Square garage Sidewalk-level access

The first clue to a fake restaurant is a phony name. Conga's isn't owned by an Afro-Cuban dance rhythm, and doesn't serve drums. Instead, it has a Spanish and South American menu cooked by Central Americans for Thai owners whose previous Japanese restaurant in this space didn't catch on.

I'm not opposed to faux restaurants on principle. We're all making it up as we go along in this life, and you can hardly be much of an eater in Boston without enjoying ersatz Chinese and Mexican food now and then. The colleges, where many of us try on different identities for four or more years, have always featured a certain amount of inauthentic dining. (How else will the kids learn?) Term papers are counterfeit scholarship (some more than others); living together is pretend marriage; Conga's is preparation for Estragon and Taberna de Haro; and those places might be how you get ready to go to Spain. (Read the other restaurant critics and eventually this column will make sense to you.) Fake it until you make it.

So, in a universe of relativism, what's a good copy and what's not?

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