On wintry nights, Zoma is a cozy port in a snowstorm. On warm days, it’s an extension of sunshine itself. The small space is decorated in bright primary colors, with woven textile art and rattan light fixtures, plus a gnarled fake tree draped in twinkly lights to evoke starry skies. From there, expect a full sensory experience: the fragrance of beef stew, garlicky red lentils, and stewed chickpeas, the feeling of tearing into spongy injera with your hands, and the low pulse of Ethiopian folk music in the background (and the sounds of fellow diners laughing and chatting as they share giant platters of food). Sure, there’s a time and place for solo dining, but it’s not Zoma. This is a place, and a meal, best enjoyed with others.