That’s how they developed the menu. Even the American dishes have a Latin twist or fusion with Hispanic culture.Your typical burger has a kick to it with the churrasco (an influence from Edgar’s own Guatemalan culture). Even the fries get elevated to “fajita fries.” 

“What’s fajita fries?” I ask Edgar, half joking. 

“Think of fajitas on top of fries,” he says. And we both laugh. 

Rumba Room is just that––an eclectic space where food and dance and language and culture all come together. Like caramelized sweet plantains, it can really stick to you. 

I came to the Rumba Room through a lifelong desire to learn how to dance.

I had searched the city high and low, exploring ballroom and swing dancing. But I hadn’t quite found my tribe. I’d heard through word of mouth that Rumba Room offered community classes. So I looked up the phone number and gave them a ring. 

“Beginner’s salsa lesson Tuesday at 6 p.m. Intermediate at 7:30 p.m. Wednesdays, bachata. $12 for the two hours,” an accented voice barked over the phone. Click.

That voice over the phone belonged to none other than Edgar Mendez, owner, proud Guatemalan, and salsero extraordinario. 

I showed up to the bachata lesson on Wednesday, just like he said. The dance instructors, Victor and Luisana, led us through the typical format for their classes: the warm-up, the basic step and footwork, a short piece of choreography, and partner work. Then the floor opened up for social dancing. There was a break to grab a cerveza and food. Then the second class began. And the whole process repeated itself.

The warm tropical beat of the bongo, the back-and-forth flow of sensual bachata, the llanto of the Spanish lyrics echoing around the small room. There was an undeniable sensation that I could have been in any ol’ discoteca south of the border, drinking a Modelo, eating empanadas, and watching dancers step in sync to bolero. I was captivated. 

The Rumba Room transports you. It’s an immersion through movement, language, rhythm, and flavor, and I haven’t found anything else quite like it in all of Memphis.

Since my first visit, it’s become my after-hours stomping ground where I come alive in all my senses. 

Speaking of after-hours––they have the best dang puerco Cubano you can find at 2 a.m. on a Friday or Saturday night. In true Memphis fashion, Les (the Rumba Room’s chef) marinates the pork for a whole day and slow cooks it for eight hours. “She has worked under some of Memphis’s most influential chefs. They took her under their wing, and she brought what she learned to the kitchen here,” Edgar recounts.  

I’m also a huge fan of the pollo saltado and the lomo––you can’t find these dishes anywhere else in the city, at least not with the same quality and authenticity that Les gives them. “She’s always loved cooking. She came here and learned from these amazing chefs and put her own twist to it,” says Edgar. It’s truly a refreshing change from your ubiquitous chips, salsa and guac.  

And, of course, you’ll find typical Guatemalan food at the Rumba Room. “The way we make the churrasco and the chuco sandwich—those you’ll find anywhere on the streets in Guatemala,” Edgar says. 

Because I’m a sucker for fried plantains, I also recommend the tostones, a fried savory green plantain with a “rumba sauce” on top. 

The food is unbeatable, but it’s the community that keeps me coming back to the Rumba Room. Edgar believes that feeling of community starts with the partner dance. It brings people together. “I think the lessons we do at the beginning bring people’s guard down really fast,” he says.

He explains that, though you may feel intimidated, that feeling shifts when you are dancing in a circle. “You’re both struggling with the steps and suddenly you realize, ‘We are both vulnerable; we are the same,’” says Edgar. 

Rumba Room has hosted nearly 100 weddings over the years, many of couples who met there. “Seriously, people meet their significant other here. In a way it’s very wholesome, if that’s the word,” says Edgar. 

Once you’ve learned your basic step and a few pieces of choreo, you’re ready for the chance to try out your new moves. That’s where social dancing comes in. On weekend nights, the dance floor fills up with bachateros and salseros––both young and old, newcomers and vets, from all different backgrounds. It’s a sort of rite of passage into becoming socialized in the dance world. 

It’s the thrilling part, but often the most frightening for people––at least at first. “They think you have to dance if you go there. And it’s not at all the case,” Edgar says.

“It’s a fun place to just have a drink, a late-night bite, and watch people. It’s like you are having a dance show right in front of you, and eventually after a couple of mojitos, you will get out there.

That’s all it takes,” he chuckles.   

Looking around the small room on any given Friday or Saturday night, I can’t help but think of Edgar and Les’s take on the menu: multicultural. The DJ may be playing cumbia, a native Colombian dance, while the sound of different accents waft all around me––from Argentina, Venezuela, Mexico. The scent is very distinct, a mix of Fabuloso and warm corn tortillas. 

But the people, ¡ay mi gente! The people are what make it. Whether we are sharing a round of reposado or a meal or a dance––everyone feels welcome. There is a pre-verbal knowing, of ritmo y sabor, in which a vulnerable part of me acknowledges some vulnerable part in you, and we silently agree to be human and dance and laugh and celebrate a coming together. 

Rumba Room
303 South Main Street
memphisrumba.com

Marissia Tiller is a writer, language instructor, industry rat, and aspiring bachatera. An Italian–American dual citizen with 16-plus years in language, culture, food, and travel, it’s through these lenses that she explores the human condition from all walks of life. @marissiarenee

Tim Barker is a chef, restaurateur, consultant, and photographer. He’s also a coffee snob, sparkling-wine enthusiast, and avid supporter of a Weiner Wednesday. A real Renaissance man. @timabarker