This is where I may branch into hyperbole of the most well-meaning kind, because next came a dish that I’ve thought about at least once a week since I ate it. It’s a dish I want to eat again, that I have an intense yearning for and happily re-live eating while dreaming of visiting Mexico with a pleading look on my face – ‘Alfredo, please cook me that dish’. It was also quite baffling, because on paper it didn’t sound like anything I’d want to eat – ‘Mar y cacao’, i.e. ‘Cured mackerel, adobo pepper ash, mashed beans in cacao butter, radish, fermented turnip’. It was just incredible – the lightly cured, beautifully firm mackerel with just the right level of salty cure taste, the creamy and intense cacao-infused beans that kind of swaddled the fish with velvety sensuousness with every chew. That, combined with the tang of adobo pepper ash and little bursts of piquancy from the turnip created the most creative and flat-out delicious forkful I have ever enjoyed. I mean this wholeheartedly, I would go to Monterrey for this dish. As I’ve been writing this, I’ve slipped into reverie-filled flashbacks at the beautiful flavours that were once in my mouth that I can’t have again because the chef is far, far away. I’m gutted.

Luckily, the next dish from Paul was of such beauty that I did not come crashing down from that fantastic moment of culinary euphoria. The heady, tender grouse was paired with a grouse ragu, rich grouse sauce, perfectly tender parsnips and a hit of zesty texture from the crumb infused with citrus. The elderberries popped magnificently with the rich game flavours, and the whole effect was of sinking into a reverie of autumnal wonder that lingers on the memory.

But onto desserts we did go, bringing with them that all too familiar sinking feeling that things were coming to an end (I’m sure it can’t just be me that gets a little melancholic when dessert gets brought out, marking the passing of time and the end, the end). Alfredo’s dessert of ‘Campechana de dulce de leche’ was a rich and intense affair of sublimely bitter, spiced dark chocolate and caramelised goat’s milk, with the undertones of rich goatiness matching up sublimely with these rich bitter notes of the chocolate. I polished off these glorious riches, matched with flaky puff pastry and mescal mousse in a moment, such was its alluringly unctuous nature.

Paul’s dessert was a similarly decadent dish, with unusual whipped pumpkin proving not only decadently creamy and sweet with slight roasty notes, but fantastically light and whipped to perfection to quell any overly-rich feelings. The muscovado ice cream would have ramped this combination way overboard were it not for the tiny strip of vanilla-poached chicory snaking its way between the quenelles.

Judging by my interview with the chefs earlier, they clearly get along. Both seem to possess a thoughtfulness and generosity of spirit which turned out to be perfectly relayed through their joyfully synergistic menu. Despite being full of big, powerful flavours from both sides of the pond, the dishes didn’t battle each other. Instead, they highlighted both sets of flavours from their creators’ native lands to perfection, while also demonstrating that no matter the flavour profiles, perfectly executed and balanced dishes can take diners to another realm of culinary happiness.