Get the booty fries: Amelia's Latin American Grill brings real flavor to South Eighth Street

The building at 320 S. Eighth Street has lived a few lives. Longtime locals will remember it as Overtime Sports Bar and, more recently, as O'Brien's Irish Pub, which I reviewed in its day. Its newest tenant is Amelia's Latin American Grill. A husband-and-wife-owned restaurant serving Puerto Rican and Cuban-style food, and I'll say it right up front: this is the best version of this building yet.

The transformation starts before you taste anything. Where O'Brien's leaned into that darker, moodier pub feel, Amelia's has gone the opposite direction with a clean, bright, open layout. They've redone everything and the whole place feels like someone threw open the curtains. It reads as family-friendly in a way a pub never quite can, and that seems entirely intentional. The owners, Michael and Jessica, are visibly present in the restaurant, checking on tables, keeping an eye on the details, and generally radiating the kind of pride you only see when a place is somebody's dream rather than an investment. Their stated goal is a restaurant that feels welcoming from the moment you walk in, with food inspired by the bold Latin flavors and traditions they grew up with.

This kind of cuisine is a welcome addition to the island. We have no shortage of good food here, but authentic Puerto Rican and Cuban cooking is a rare find in Fernandina, and Amelia's stands out immediately because of it. The menu runs deep: churrasco with chimichurri, Cuban mojo ribs that reviewers everywhere seem to rave about, mofongo, empanadas, Mike's Mojo Wings, sandwiches on Cuban bread, house cocktails and sangria, drinks on tap, desserts from tres leches to flan, and even a kids' menu. There's also a roughly $50 Tour of Amelia for the ambitious, which gets you a little bit of everything. They do catering, and they host live music now and again. It is, for lack of a better word, a vibe.

I went twice and ate my way through a good chunk of the menu. The runaway star, and the thing I’ll be telling people about for months, is the smothered booty fries. Slow-roasted pork butt over a huge bed of fries with cheese, cilantro, diced onions, and a cilantro ranch sauce, coming in around $18. Loaded fries are usually a decent pile of fries with some stuff on top. This is not that. The portion is enormous, easily shareable between four people; the pork is generous, and that bright, zippy cilantro ranch ties the whole thing together into something I could not stop eating. I say that literally. I didn’t want to stop, so I didn't. For the price, this might be the most slept-on item on the island right now.

The chicken sandwich is my other must-order. Grilled chicken with lettuce, tomato, onion, mayo, and chimichurri on Cuban bread, and whatever they marinate that chicken in should be classified as a controlled substance. My mouth was watering between bites. I’ve since had at least one dream about it. The steak sandwich is the same build with a thin cut of steak, and while it's plenty flavorful, the chicken is juicier, tastes stronger, and costs less. Between the two, get the chicken. Whatever you order, their regular french fries are fantastic, which brings me to the only downside of this review.

The tostones and the yuca fries didn't land for me. Both were beautiful on the plate, but the flavor wasn't there, and the yuca fries, in particular, ran dry, with most of the taste coming from the garlic-cilantro dipping sauce rather than the fries themselves. The yuca is also a $2.50 upcharge on an already premium sandwich, which stings a little when the regular fries are both included and better. That may just be my personal preference talking, and it's a small complaint in an otherwise excellent lineup, but if you're deciding between sides, the choice is easy. Regular fries. Every time.

A note on price, because it comes up. The chicken sandwich with yuca fries ran me about $23, and the steak sandwich pushes $27 with the same setup. That's real money for a sandwich. But this isn't a chain, and it doesn't eat like one. The flavors are authentic, the portions are generous, and even the takeout is packaged with a level of care that makes it feel intentional rather than slapped together. A restaurant made with love usually costs a little more, because love has bills too. I found it worth it. Also worth it: sipping a cortadito, their Cuban espresso with a splash of steamed milk, alongside a marinated chicken sandwich. An unexpected pairing that I didn't know I needed and now fully crave.

In just a few months, Michael and Jessica have built something that already feels like it belongs here. The reviews are hovering near five stars, and having been there, I get it. The island is growing fast, but it's places like this — family-owned, personal, and genuinely warm — that keep the hometown feel intact. In a moment when every other headline and Facebook post is doom and gloom, there's real value in a restaurant that lets you escape into somewhere happy for an hour and sends you back out with some of that warmth still on you. Do yourself a favor and go. Order the smothered booty fries. Get the chicken sandwich. Have the cortadito. And enjoy knowing that every dollar goes to a husband-and-wife team pouring everything they have into one of the most flavorful and unique new spots on Amelia Island.