Cibrèo

Walking into Cibrèo 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: Sant'Ambrogio neighborhood warmth. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.

We started with shrimp cocktail with proper horseradish, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered a Burgundy that arrived too cold and rewarded patience, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: tagliata, the dish that puts Cibrèo 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 — Fabio Picchi's Tuscan playbook — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for thick-cut onion rings, stacked and creamed spinach so rich it should embarrass us. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was vanilla ice cream with a shot of espresso poured over, 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.