Selva Rosa Cocina and Bar (https://soon.selvarosa.com/) is a gorgeous new Mexican restaurant with some Japanese fusion elements, located in Maitland. It took over the old location of Teak, a casual restaurant we loved at first, but the quality faltered over the years until it closed. (This may become relevant later, stalwart Saboscrivnerinos.) It is on one corner of The Village apartment complex on 17-92 (not to be confused with the infamous Villages elsewhere in Central Florida), with Lim Ros Thai Cuisine on the opposite corner.
The interior is very modern and pretty, with plenty of pink neon signs and fake plant walls, designed to be trendy and Instagrammable for photo ops. They are going for sexy, sophisticated style. More about that later, I promise. 
We have been there twice now, and they always bring out thin, crispy tortilla chips that are well-salted and are not greasy at all, along with a simple, tasty table salsa. 
I took photos of the menu, because they still aren’t available on the shell of a website. You may want to right-click on these to open them in new tabs and then expand them:
My wife ordered a black sesame latte on our first visit, perfect for our early lunch on a chilly Saturday. She said it was delicious.
I ordered this pair of Ensenada-style tacos, one for each of us, with fried grouper, shredded cabbage, pico de gallo, and habanero salsa on soft flour tortillas. I love a good fish taco, and they are surprisingly hard to come by in Orlando. This was excellent, in part because grouper is one of the tastiest fish… and also surprisingly hard to come by in Orlando.
My wife ordered pollo a la brasa, half of a deliciously marinated and grilled chicken, served artfully on a banana leaf with avocado crema and fresh cilantro on top, with a mound of the best Mexican rice I’ve ever tried anywhere and excellent black beans topped with queso fresco.
I was going to go with something else, but mentioned to our server David that I had a hard time deciding and would have to return soon. He suggested one of their most popular dishes, the short rib taquiza, a sizzling fajitas-sort of setup with a giant beef short rib, prepared with birria-style seasoning and a huge bone that slides right out. I know he was trying to upsell me, because this is a $38 dish, but I am a sucker for slow-braised, tender meats on the bone, and I already like short ribs, so I changed my order. No regrets. This thing was a beast, and it came out smoking and sizzling to beat the band. Even I got three meals out of this massive meat, but believe it or not, I am consciously trying to eat less, and also to eat healthier when I can. Short rib isn’t health food by any stretch, but at least I didn’t devour the whole thing in one sitting. 
(I always joke that my mom doesn’t approve of ordering fajitas at restaurants because people shouldn’t draw attention to themselves with those sizzling platters, but the main reason is because she doesn’t like Mexican food.)
The short rib taquiza came with another mound of that terrific Mexican rice (did I mention it’s the best I’ve ever had?), a bowl of rich, thick beans with chunks of unctuous pork belly, and a salad of shredded iceberg lettuce mixed with sliced tomatoes, raw white onion, and a little guacamole.
It also came with warm, soft, handmade corn tortillas, probably the best corn tortillas either of us have ever had in Orlando, but I failed to get a photo of them. My wife and I loved the corn tortillas so much, we planned to get more on our next visit.
My wife ordered this dessert after her first choice (something with pistachios) was sold out. It looked cool, but she didn’t care much for it, and I had no interest in something chocolatey. It didn’t look appetizing to me at all. By the way, that was a shortbread-like cookie underneath it, not a layer of frosting or whipped cream. 
It had raspberry puree in the middle, which she didn’t like or want. Back at home, I performed a bit of surgery, slicing it open and removing the raspberry filling for her. It wasn’t anything mind-blowing, and neither of us would ever get it again.
We returned the following weekend for a later lunch on “Superb Owl” Sunday, figuring the restaurant would not be too busy. We were right. But even though it wasn’t busy at all, it was a very different experience. What a difference a week makes!
She ordered another sesame latte, which was served in an attractive glass this time:
This time, we made it a point to arrive after 1 PM so we could hopefully try one of their sushi or similar raw fish dishes, since the menu said they do not serve them before 1. Instead of a sushi roll, my wife chose the ahi tuna truffle appetizer for us to share, with a mound of raw ahi tuna over diced avocado with red onion, cilantro, and their sweet soy truffle sauce, served with crunchy fried cassava chips and crispy tostadas. I am not a truffle fan, but this whole dish worked really well together. Ahi tuna is one of my favorite things to eat in the world, and she liked it too. 
By the way, all our food — apps and entrees alike — came out at the exact same time. Not ideal, but not something that would usually annoy me. Stay tuned, true believers.
Knowing we would have plenty of leftovers to enjoy over the next few days, I selected another pair of tacos, since we were both intrigued by this combination. These were the tacos bacanos, with ropa vieja (a Cuban dish of shredded beef stewed in a savory, tomatoey broth), black beans, avocado, and salty crumbles of queso fresco. These particular tacos were supposed to come on “plantain tortillas,” which I expected might be like tostones, but fried into a curved taco shell shape. As far as I could tell, these were pretty typical corn tortillas. Once I got home and started writing this review, I realized the menu said these tacos should also include avocado crema (so good on my wife’s grilled chicken on our previous visit) and pickled onions, but ours didn’t come with either. Missing or switched ingredients would be a recurring theme this time around, leading to more perplexing disappointment.
My wife loves a good steak, and she ordered the churrasco al carbon for her entree, figuring she would get multiple meals out of it. The grilled angus skirt steak arrived looking beautiful, topped with a little chimichurri and a few hot pink pickled onions. The kitchen cooked it rare as she requested, something that some other trendy restaurants just couldn’t get right. It came with yuca fries, black beans, and “seasonal vegetables” — mostly roasted squash. 
This time I got the fajitas I almost ordered last time, when David recommended the colossal short rib instead. This was the asado Selva Rosa, a sizzling setup that was supposed to come with guajillo lime chicken, adobo grilled chicken, achiote shrimp, and one of my favorite Mexican meats, chorizo sausage. Since I’m trying to eat more protein and fewer carbs, it seemed like a nice way to try multiple things, but I fully admit that the chorizo was the deciding factor for me. So I thought it was a little odd that our new server asked how I wanted the meat cooked. Chicken, shrimp, and crumbly chorizo? I was surprised, so I hesitantly said “medium, so the chicken is cooked all the way through.” I just wasn’t expecting that question. I like my steak rare, but not my chicken! 
So when it arrived, I couldn’t differentiate between two different types of chicken, the chorizo was noticeably absent, and there was also some steak that was tough and overdone. The menu didn’t say anything about steak, and if I had known steak would be involved, I would never have asked for it medium, because as I said, I like my steak rare. The hits just kept on coming! Honestly, I wonder if someone in the kitchen mixed up “churrasco” (steak) and “chorizo” (sausage).
It came with the same side salad, refried beans (not as good as last time, with no big chunks of pork belly or any other meat), and Mexican rice (also not as good as last time, when I told ya it was the best Mexican rice I’ve ever had). 
This time I remembered to take a photo of the fresh corn tortillas when I unwrapped them from the foil, soft and steaming. But these looked different — certainly not as good. I gave them to my wife, who loved them last time, and I think she agreed they weren’t as good.
I asked our server what happened to the chorizo, because that’s why I ordered this dish. She said she would check, then some time passed and she said the kitchen would make me some chorizo, then more time passed and they brought this out. This was definitely not the orangey-red, spicy, savory, greasy, crumbly chorizo I’ve enjoyed in countless authentic tacos, burritos, and tortas. This was a slight step up from a salchicha, not that different from a hot dog, but possibly with a natural casing that got crisped up. Full disclosure: they took $5 off the bill because of this without me asking them to, but all these little things were adding up, and we were both feeling annoyed.
At this point, we had a lot of leftovers and were losing steam (and patience), so I asked our server for the Rosa en Fuego dessert they were out of last time, as well as some boxes. She brought us two boxes for all this food, so we had to go back and forth a couple of times to get enough boxes to pack everything up, and then a separate request for a paper bag to carry everything in. I refuse to leave expensive food behind at restaurants, even if more and more places are starting to act weird about offering to-go containers. It was starting to feel like a comedy sketch, and I imagined a domineering manager berating the wait staff about giving customers too many to-go boxes, and that’s costing them money. It really felt like that could be happening behind the scenes, and I’m a pretty chill, patient, conflict-averse guy, but it all seemed so unnecessary and ridiculous.
This was the Rosa en Fuego, a pretty large and attractive dome. 
I never even saw the dessert menu, but my wife wanted to try it because it included pistachio and rosewater, two ingredients she loves. I joked that Pistachio and Rosewater sounds like a law firm for elves, and we riffed for a while about how they practiced enchanted forest law, like toadstool landlord/tenant issues, lily pad eminent domain, and zoning ordinances for businesses inside holes in tree trunks.
What we didn’t realize was that this would be a whole production, with some kind of alcohol set ablaze with a torch:
Then poured onto the dome, flames and all (hence the “en fuego”):
The sugary dome started to burn and melt away:
And it ended up being this little melty, shriveled thing with a light green bit of pistachio cake underneath. I was never interested, and she said it tasted like kerosene (probably butane, to be more accurate). I’m sure the influencers will go gaga over it, posting video of the burning, the melting, and their inevitable reaction shots.
As an aside, I noticed the men’s restroom looked surprisingly luxurious, with gleaming black urinals and fancy faucets for the sinks, but when my wife returned from the women’s restroom early in our meal, she looked upset. The toilet in the one accessible stall (which her rollator could not fit inside) was clogged and overflowing, and she said it made her lose her appetite. That kind of set the mood for our entire lunch. On the way out, after I paid our bill and tipped well, she told the manager about the restroom situation in a polite and diplomatic way, and we both looked into the eyes of a man who had no fucks left to give.
After two visits a week apart, after how much we enjoyed everything the first time and how many corners were cut the second time, our excitement has cooled like that weird melted dessert. My wife put it best: more than the food (which features trends like wagyu and truffle and fusion sushi), Selva Rosa Cocina and Bar is all about the vibes. The decor, the menu options, the presentations, the fact that ingredients are substituted or missing without warning and nobody seems too concerned, the checked-out service — it all feels aimed at trendmongers who care more about how their photos will look than about the overall quality, and most importantly of all, how they look in those photos. For us, that holds no appeal, and yes, I am fully aware of the irony of me taking a lot of photos for the purposes of this review. I realize this is still a relatively new restaurant, so they may be working out kinks and/or bugs, but the colossal downgrade in our experience from one week to the next was noteworthy. It is probably clear that Selva Rosa is not our scene, so I wanted to tell a full, clear, unbiased story so you can determine whether or not it may be your scene. Let me know what you decide.
The Saboscrivner 