In the bougie backstreets of Potts Point, beneath the reaching boughs of a majestic, fairy-lit tree sits Casa Merida; a gloriously ornate Victorian townhouse serving cocktails and cuisine plucked straight from Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula.
The word ‘grand’ doesn’t quite do this casa justice, with cascading drapes, glittering chandeliers, luxe potted palms and an antique mirrored ceiling making it positively palatial. Ensconced amongst plush cushions on the belle-epoque style front terrace — with a smokey, mezcal margarita in hand — you'll feel rather regal, too.
The casa’s name pays homage to Mérida, the cultural capital of the Yucatán state. An ancient city, rich in colonial history, Casa Merida honours the Mayan and Spanish influences of its namesake in each and every drink and dish.
Blue swimmer crab infladitas are a truly spectacular inaugural course. A puffed blue-corn tortilla popped atop a pile of sweet, handpicked crab meat, spiked with mango and habanero mojo. A textural party and beautifully balanced, and we suspect, a tough act to follow.
The ceviche tostada pulls it off, however. Delicate cubes of raw Kingfish, cured in piquant lime juice, manage to be fresh, light and zesty but also wonderfully deep and flavourfully complex. Spooned generously onto the tostada, which is flash-fried until its surface erupts into thin, crispy bubbles, this too is an absolute delight.
If your glass runs woefully empty, and the margarita lacked the punchiness that it would have had were it shaken with a more recently-squeezed lime, have a crack at a Pacifico lager, “but make it a michelada!”, instead.
A beer and Bloody Mary hybrid, a michelada is one of the most bracingly refreshing drinks there is. Lager, tomato juice and tangy mexican spices with a sea-salt rim, it’s a fun, lively alternative to more boozy cocktails. If you're in the ideal position of being unburdened by professionalism, you should absolutely get amongst the voluminous mezcal selection. Featuring rare mezcals, imported from indigenous communities, it would honestly be rude not to.
Next up, a steaming platter of Cochinita Pibil sweeps on stage. A Yucatán speciality, pork is slow cooked in banana leaves and garnished with fermented red onion. It is rich and hearty, but has its thunder completely, utterly stolen by the colado beans accompanying it. Smooth, silky and cut with a flawless quantity of fresh lime; a round of applause.
As candlelight flickers across the dark wooden table, the night culminates with an impeccable mic drop: Naranja Agria.
Sitting there; bathed in moonlight, while fabulous little neighbourhood Pomeranians potter past, this dish is enough to transform even the most prone to savoury numbers amongst us into something you may never have considered yourself to be before: a dessert person.
A glossy, perfectly round sphere, with a little lime leaf hat disguises the mingling of yuzu ganache, sour orange mousse and white chocolate as a shiny piece of citrus fruit. It's hard to convey how enjoyable this crescendo is without resorting to expletives.
Be it for romance or revelry, this little manor house is opulent, intimate and definitely worth a visit ASAP.
