Fifty shapes of maize: This lively Nedlands eatery celebrates the wonders of corn

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Wednesday nights at Masa Mesa are for dancing.

Or at least, that was the case this week when, just as we were getting ready to leave this three-month-old restaurant, two of our fellow diners leapt to their feet and began to shimmy and twist.

From where I was seated, it looked like they were dancing salsa, specifically, the fluid Cuban style rather than the showier, more dramatic version that lights up dance floors across Colombia.

Then again, both women were fairly stationary and dancing on the spot. Could it have been cumbia they were doing? Or maybe it was something else entirely, and I’ll have to accept that I’m not Dancing with the Stars judging material.

Was musical self-expression a common occurrence when this was Anjeer Indian Cuisine? I don’t know. What I do feel confident saying, though, is that this split-level, brightly lit room feels like the kind of place where diners would take any opportunity to cut a rug.

Which also seems to be the case in El Salvador and Argentina, the birthplaces, respectively, of the xuc and tango as well as Erick Martinez and Linda Martinez, the husband-and-wife owners of Masa Mesa.

A love of busting moves is just one trait common to El Salvador, Argentina and all the other nations that make up the Latin American multiverse. A strong Catholic faith? Tick. European languages introduced by seafaring colonisers? Si. Another through line that connects many is a taste for corn and the many good things you can make from corn once it’s been turned into cornmeal or flour (also known as masa).

One such good thing one can make is a pupusa. Or at least Erick Martinez can. I don’t know how Erick’s version compares with the OG back in El Salvador, but when considered from the perspective of is-it-delicious, it’s not hard to see why these fluffy, inch-thick flat cakes – pale yellow of complexion, pleasingly crumbly of body and dense with stringy cheese and succulent pulled pork – are held aloft as the country’s national dish.

While the menu hails the pupusa as a “tortilla”, keep in mind that the word is Spanish for “small cake” and covers a multitude of dishes. I write this for the benefit of tacophiles who automatically assume – or hope – that every tortilla is a corn tortilla.

Masa Mesa, incidentally, does tacos too, although the tortillas are from the masa wizards at La Tortilla. (I just hope my tortilla getting both monstered and drowned by too big a blob of mashed black beans, pickled onions and grilled veg was an anomaly. Or are the tacos supposed to be double-bagged and someone forgot that second tortilla?)

The appearance of fleet-footed Salvadoran-style empanadas – they’re made of corn, filled with chicken and smoked cheese and fried versus Argentina’s baked, pastie-esque wheat empanada – signal a return to Masa Mesa’s usual house-made programming. See also the hot dog-esque choripan featuring a coarse, mildly spiced beef and pork sausage smooshed into a toasted white baguette open casket lined with molten provolone.

Let the record show that this menu contains much gooey cheese action and things stuffed with meat. For those seeking a more direct protein fix, consider the asado-style short rib. These meaty ribs are harvested from the chest plate and sliced across the bone, resulting in two hefty, char-grilled portions of beef.

The last time I saw Erick was when he was at Lawson Flats, but previously, he worked at Duende and Andaluz, where he cooked tapas. Masa Mesa, for mine, feels like a mix of both these establishments and combines the quiet cooking polish of the former with the small bar energy of the latter.

Part of that buzz, however, is to do with the 90-minute sitting time assigned to guests as well as certain aspects of the dining experience being built for speed.

That’d be ingredients doing double- and triple-duty on the menu, plus the necessary evil that is QR code ordering. (When a restaurant has such upbeat waitstaff working the room, having to buy dinner on your phone feels extra meh, but I get it, especially at this price point.)

But at the same time, much of the vibe can also be chalked up to Masa Mesa bringing such a well-rounded, enjoyable offering to Nedlands.

What’s not to like about tasty things you eat with your fingers, real deal flavours plus a neat Latino drinks list?

Pull up a seat and join in the fun. (Then get up out of it later to bust a move, if the mood takes you.)

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.