El Capricho

I have eaten in a lot of dining rooms that try this hard. El Capricho is one of the few that pulls it off without looking like it is trying.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: village cave dining room you have to drive to find. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.

We started with burrata with peaches and basil, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered an Oregon pinot, against the steak waiter's better judgement, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: chuletón of retired oxen, the dish that puts El Capricho 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 — José Gordón's animals, raised to old age — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for wild mushrooms in butter and fried okra and a dab of remoulade. 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.

A perfect Sunday lunch, which is what I came for.