Casa Julián

Walking into Casa Julián for the first time is a small piece of theatre, and that is before any food has arrived.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: tiny Tolosa room, three tables, decades of cooks. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.

We started with a tomato salad heavy with red onion and oregano, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered a Napa cabernet old enough to drink itself, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: chuleta of buey, the dish that puts Casa Julián on every short list. The seasoning was simple — salt, pepper, restraint — and it was the right call. The signature touch — the salt-crusted bone-in rib, charred over coals — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for wild mushrooms in butter and hash browns the size of a hubcap. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was panna cotta with stewed cherries, 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.