Eric Bohlert
Google
There are restaurants where you eat, and then there are restaurants where you experience existential joy via a spork. Quique Dacosta firmly belongs to the latter.
From start to finish, this was one of those rare evenings where everything simply worked. The food wasn’t just good, it was a masterclass in flavor, technique, and imagination. Each course arrived like a tiny, edible work of art designed to surprise, delight, and occasionally leave you wondering if you were, in fact, worthy of such culinary wizardry.
What impressed me most was the consistency. In fine dining, there’s often that one dish that’s more “interesting” than delicious , a polite way of saying it tasted like a dare. Not here. Every plate hit the mark with elegance and confidence, somehow managing to be both surprising and comforting at the same time.
The service? Outstanding. Attentive without being overbearing, professional yet genuinely warm. These people didn’t just serve food, they curated an atmosphere. Even the bathroom felt like somewhere you’d ask for a mortgage application, just to stay a little longer.
I’d saved for this visit, hoping for something memorable, and what I got was easily one of the finest dining experiences of my life. It’s the kind of evening that makes you reevaluate your relationship with food, with hospitality, and quite possibly with your own kitchen.
Highly recommended. If you get the chance, go. And wear something nice, you’ll want to feel fancy while your soul ascends.