La Cabrera

Walking into La Cabrera 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: loud, bright, generous. 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 Rioja gran reserva, decanted at the table, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: bife de chorizo, the dish that puts La Cabrera 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 small bowls of accompaniments — a dozen of them — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for thick-cut onion rings, stacked 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 key lime pie, mostly because the waiter raised an eyebrow when we hesitated. He was right to.

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