El Asador Vasco

There are restaurants you visit and restaurants you return to. El Asador Vasco is, after one quiet Sunday in Mexico City, very much the second kind.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: 1940s comedor with stained glass. 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 half-dozen oysters from the raw bar, 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: chuletón vasco, the dish that puts El Asador Vasco on every short list. The crust was the colour of dark mahogany, and the inside was a confident, even pink the whole way through. The signature touch — Basque grilling in the Centro Histórico — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for fried okra and a dab of remoulade and asparagus with hollandaise. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was the bread pudding with bourbon sauce, mostly because the waiter raised an eyebrow when we hesitated. He was right to.

If you are passing through Mexico City, do not pass El Asador Vasco by.