AUTHOR BIO: Dana Somerstein’s passport is stamped with perfect pizza slices, delicate dumplings, and buttery baked goods. When she’s not chasing her next reservation, she practices real estate and banking law as a partner in Fort Lauderdale.
Named after Argentina’s legendary 1986 World Cup victory, the year Diego Maradona turned a soccer pitch into something closer to mythology, 1986 Steak House leans fully into its Argentine identity. The name is a nod to Maradona’s infamous “Hand of God” goal, only here the Hand of God works the parrilla. The result is a steakhouse with swagger, smoke, and a cocktail program strong enough to turn dinner into a main event.
In Coconut Grove’s Coco Walk, 1986 Steak House is so new there isn’t even exterior signage up, but the aroma of smoked meats practically guides you to the table before the hostess does. Grupo Orfano, the hospitality group behind 18 restaurants across Argentina, Mexico, and the United States, hasn’t opened a new concept in two decades, and that patience shows. Operating manager Stefano Cremasco intentionally chose Coconut Grove, where the neighborhood’s laid-back charm feels tailor-made for asado culture: long dinners, shared plates, lingering conversations, and so much wine you’ll have nothing to whine about.
Inside, the energy is good and the dining room strikes the right balance. Large arched windows open onto the Mayfair breezeway, letting in that distinctly “Coconut Grove glow” that makes everyone look a little more relaxed and bronzed. The design lands somewhere between Buenos Aires supper club and an elegant dinner party. I only wish the restaurant leaned a little harder into the 1986 soccer mythology, because with a name like this, a Maradona mug shouldn’t have to do quite so much of the storytelling. In a city where some restaurants seem determined to flip tables faster than a counterattack, 1986 invites you to settle in and play through extra time.
Then there’s the parrilla, where chef Marcel Daguerre really starts running up the score. The philosophy is simple: quality cuts, open fire, salt, restraint. We started with the provoleta-style grilled cheese, bubbling and blistered from the fire, smoky, salty and brightened by a pomodoro sauce.
Next came one of the best bites of the night. When we came across the prime beef empanada, the memory came flooding back and my friend Ariana recounted the longest line she has seen at the Miami Food and Wine Festival and how it was all worth it when she got to the front and ate the best empanada of her life. “It holds up,” she said as we took our first crunch. Perfectly fried yet delicate, comforting and exciting. Do “empanada” skip this bite.
The ribeye arrived deeply caramelized and smoky, while the wagyu flap steak delivered tender, buttery bites. But surprisingly, the steaks occasionally took a back seat to the sides. Sweet potatoes with miso butter balanced sweetness against the smoke of the grill beautifully, the asparagus arrived topped with a cheesy breadcrumb crust that deserved its own fan section, and the creamed spinach was so rich it makes you forget you’re eating a vegetable. Still, as good as much of it was, the meal sometimes felt more proficient than inspired, like a very well-run kitchen still looking for the one note that would make the whole room hum.
And then there’s the chimichurri — bright, herbaceous, sharp with garlic and vinegar, cutting through the richness of the meat like a perfectly timed slide tackle. Good chimichurri acts as a condiment; this one feels more like a philosophy. A reminder that sometimes the simplest ingredients, handled correctly, can completely change the game.
The cocktail program is equally sharp. Developed by the team behind Tres Monos, one of the world’s most celebrated bars, the drinks manage to be playful without drifting into gimmick territory. The Diego’s Julep, served in a Maradona-shaped mug, should be gimmicky but each sip somehow makes strawberry, mint, grapefruit, miso, and amaros work together in total harmony.
Still, the biggest surprise of the night may have been dessert. A banana split cooked over the grill with bits of dark chocolate and topped with dulce de leche ice cream. The banana split arrives unapologetically old-school and completely irresistible: cold, creamy, crunchy, nostalgic, and theatrical enough to deserve its own victory lap. After all the smoke and fire from the parrilla, it lands as the perfect final whistle.
1986 is a fun night out in the Grove and even if it doesn’t quite turn its World Cup premise into a full-on win, it would be a mis-steak not to try if you’re looking for good vibes, good beef and good sides.
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