Hacienda Los Lingues

It rained the whole afternoon I spent at Hacienda Los Lingues, and I cannot now imagine eating there in any other weather.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: 16th-century hacienda, slow Sunday. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.

We started with grilled provoleta with chimichurri, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered a glass of port to finish, and then another, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: lomo vetado, the dish that puts Hacienda Los Lingues 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 — the open hearth in the colonial courtyard — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for hash browns the size of a hubcap and potato gratin with a dark crust. 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.

I will be back. With company, next time, and a longer reservation.