You’d have to have some garage for it to look like this. One attached to a desert palace, perhaps. The room is a bona fide beauty of pink silks and zellige tiles, of hessian detailing and mottled glass. Everything is the colour of faraway trips, of copper soil, jade trees and candle-flame sunsets. You do not suspect its owner was thinking of somewhere to smash a few margs and bolt a plate of Baja tacos, no matter what Lastra might say. There’s not really space to either, with no bar, which feels an omission. It’s not like they’ve skimped on the drinks. A classic michelada had a current of mezcal running through its breezy tomato taste. The lager used is Chela and, in keeping with Lastra’s ethos — Mexican food, (mostly) British ingredients — is brewed in the UK. But make no mistake, you’re coming here for a meal proper, not a night on the lash.
