Buca Lapi

Some rooms tell you exactly what to order the moment you sit down. Buca Lapi, in Florence, is one of them.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: vaulted brick cellar under Palazzo Antinori. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.

We started with grilled provoleta with chimichurri, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered Rioja gran reserva, decanted at the table, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: bistecca fiorentina, the dish that puts Buca Lapi on every short list. Was it the very best steak I have ever eaten? No. Was it among the dozen I think about most? Yes. The signature touch — the oldest cantina in Florence, since 1880 — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for broiled tomato with a breadcrumb cap and wild mushrooms in butter. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was tiramisu, just barely too much, mostly because the waiter raised an eyebrow when we hesitated. He was right to.

It is not cheap. It is, in this case, worth it.