Caribe Caribbean Bistro is a jewel of a restaurant, and that's a deliberately chosen metaphor: It has sharply defined facets, and as a home to coherent, earnest, passionate ethnic cooking, it's precious. Located in a cozy and vibrantly painted space at 791 Raymond Av. in St. Paul (formerly Jay's Cafe), Caribe emerged earlier this year already possessed of a rare sense of poise and purpose.

Caribe's misses aren't bad, and the hits are bull's-eyes. An appetizer of tostones (savory twice-fried plantain slices, served with a schmear of avocado and Puerto Rican mojito garlic sauce for $5) suffers a bit from starch overload, but has a pleasing crispness to it. The avocado is also a nice, creamy break from the carbs.

Conch fritters can often go wrong, sporting rogue flavor notes or an unpleasant texture. Caribe's ($9) are spot on, tender and moist, reminiscent of fresh fried clams. An accompanying banana ketchup has an almost apple pie-like flavor profile, and is a great match for the fritters, as is the Pickapeppa sauce-spiked remoulade, which is like a brightly flavored tartar sauce.

Entrees are consistently excellent. Caribe's Piñon ($14) is billed as a Puerto Rican casserole, but it really reminds us of coffee cake crossed with meatloaf after a relaxing Caribbean vacation. It's a veritable layer cake of green beans, ground beef, plantains and rich spicy flavor that featured an almost sweeter, cinnamon profile in the lead. It's odd and delicious. The accompanying white rice and stewed red beans are perfectly prepared and a great complement to this exotic dish.

Both seafood entrees we sampled would be worth ordering again (and again). Grilled jumbo shrimp ($17) are tender and tasty, sporting a sweet smoky molasses-like richness of flavor imparted by the black pepper rum glaze. The plantain-crusted kingfish steak ($17) is big, properly cooked and balanced with Puerto Rican mojo isleño ("islander sauce," typically featuring olives, peppers, bay leaves and garlic) and beautifully cooked root vegetables that fought the fish for the limelight.

The jerk chicken ($14) could have been more thoroughly spiced and flavored, but the blackened exterior is rich in carbon and flavor, and everything it's served with (including a couple sweet and zany fried dough-like dumplings called "festival") worked well.

Caribe's soda selection ($1.25-$2.50) is also a delight. We dug the intense coconut hit of Coco Rico, the soulful edge of the ginger beer and the sweet-tea-like mellow flavor of the Yerba Mate soda. Like the nonalcohol selection at Cafe Maude (and precious few other local restaurants), Caribe's soda choices give nondrinkers and designated drivers something to cheer about.