Just one look at me, and I’m marched down to the most distant booth at the back. The seat is so absurdly small it feels like a test of how much indignity a diner can endure before snapping. It’s not quite Siberia – there’s a clear view of the long bar where cocktails are being slung and tortillas are being pressed – but let’s just say it’s a patch of exile so cramped it would challenge a contortionist.
I’d dutifully selected “standard” on the booking system, bypassing “other” and “counter”. Yet here I am, wedged into this wooden afterthought, while proper tables – wide, low, and welcoming – sit smugly unoccupied, awaiting diners deemed more worthy of comfort. We’ve been dumped here by a front-of-house manager who vanished without a glance. It’s downright rude.
We scan the room in despair. A high table up front is available, a more accommodating waitress tells us, and my mood lifts considerably as I land next to two old friends, the founding members of the Barry White Appreciation Society – though I’ll spare you our greatest hits.
We promptly order margaritas, because this is the Mexican rebirth of what was once Dillinger’s, and the owner, John Farrell (of 777, Amy Austin and The Butcher Grill fame), knows his way around a cocktail. The spicy one (€15) packs a proper kick, while the classic (€15) is rimmed with crushed sea salt, infinitely better than the chalky table salt that unfortunately persists elsewhere. The wine list is sparse, but beer pairs so naturally with Mexican food, we move on to Modelo (€7.20) once our cocktail glasses are drained.
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We’re guided toward the octopus chicharrón (€12), which arrives with a crispy, deep-fried exterior alongside excellent guacamole and handmade tortillas. With two Mexican chefs in the kitchen – Víctor Lara, head chef and culinary director of both Amy Austin and Suertudo, and Celina Altamirano from Oaxaca – the tortillas are as good as you’d expect. But the octopus is gnawing-a-rubber-band chewy, which is a shame because the flavours hit the mark.
The aguachile negro (€18) flirts with brilliance but stumbles in execution. Unlike ceviche, where seafood languishes in its marinade for about 20 minutes to develop a balanced cure, aguachiles are meant to deliver a fresher, punchier bite – a quick toss in lime juice and on to the plate. Here, the scallops have been left to soak too long, resulting in a woolly texture that clashes with the dish’s intent. Oddly, bland, pre-cooked prawns make an appearance, sitting awkwardly alongside the cured scallops. The smoky salsa – a clever mix of ancho and pasilla chillies, celery, coriander, lime and what seems to be dried lime – works well enough, helped by crisp tortilla shards and radish slices. Yet the dish never quite takes off and feels overpriced.
The Aztec soup (€11) redeems things slightly – warming and fragrant, with tomatoes, dried chillies and spices tucked under crispy tortilla strips, sliced avocado, and crumbled panela cheese. Each spoonful delivers a satisfying mix of textures and flavours.
Inspired by Nayarit on Mexico’s west coast, the ancient zarandeado grilling technique is applied expertly to the sea bream, served with adobo rojo and plantain cream (€17). It is grilled to a smoky triumph with just enough pickled red onion to make it pop. It’s got everything you want in a dish: salt, sour, sweet and that perfect char from the grill. This is the one dish you can’t skip.
The taco de Asado (€17) follows closely behind – the picanha (beef rump) is charcoal-grilled with precision and sliced into tender, juicy pieces, served on a tortilla with dollops of avocado crema and a single chicharrón (why just one piece of puffy, deep-fried pork skin?).
Dessert keeps the momentum going. The broken meringue with creamed corn and hot nuts (€10) balances sticky sweetness with savoury corn in a way that’s unexpected but works. The smoked rice pudding (€10) is a clever play on textures and flavours, the dulce de leche foam light as air, and the popcorn adding crunch – though a touch of caramel would have elevated it.
Suertudo has its flashes of brilliance, but it’s far from flawless. The sea bream delivers, but it doesn’t excuse the indignity of that corner booth – a relic begging for a crowbar. An initial brush-off from management threatened to sour the evening, but the warmth and charm of the Mexican staff, led by the effortlessly gracious Oaxacan manager Betzaida Mariscal, pulled it back from the brink.
Dinner for two with two cocktails and two beers was €139.40.
The Verdict: Flashes of brilliance, but far from flawless.
Food provenance: Wrights of Marino and O’Gorman Meats.
Vegetarian options: Guacamole; camotito, sweet potato dip; Aztec soup; beetroot mole with goat’s cheese mousse.
Wheelchair access: Fully accessible, with an accessible toilet.
Music: Probably the 777 playlist, but at a much lower volume.
