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 shrimp cocktail with proper horseradish, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered an Argentine malbec the waiter chose for me, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: chuletón vasco, the dish that puts El Asador Vasco on every short list. Cut through it and you found that deep, beefy, almost iron-tasting interior that only comes from time and dry air. The signature touch — Basque grilling in the Centro Histórico — 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 a wedge of chocolate cake to share, fork divided, 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.