Casa Tinta, Mexico City

We arrived in the soft, jacaranda-purple light of a Roma Norte afternoon, the streets thick with the smell of coffee and wet pavement after the daily rain. Casa Tinta announces itself quietly: a grand 1905 mansion painted a deep, almost-black blue, its tall windows shuttered, a single brass plaque by the door. Inside, the drama unfolds. A double-height entrance hall gives onto a planted courtyard, and every wall holds contemporary Mexican art, hung salon-style and changed each season. The original mosaic floor underfoot is worn to a soft sheen. Somewhere a record played Agustín Lara. We were handed a small glass of mezcal and told, simply, to make ourselves at home.

The room

Our room overlooked the courtyard from the first floor, behind a pair of original double doors that must be three metres tall. The ceiling soared; the bed, low and wide, sat beneath an enormous abstract canvas in oxblood and ochre. Walls were a moody plaster grey, the floor laid with patterned encaustic tiles that the hotel had restored rather than replaced. A mid-century rosewood desk faced the window, and a drinks tray held a bottle of artisanal mezcal and two copitas. The bathroom was a jewel box of green Talavera tile, with a deep soaking tub and a rainfall shower. Best of all were the tall shutters, which opened to the sound of the courtyard and closed it out entirely when we wished.

Roma Norte has many pretty hotels; this one has a point of view, and it commits to it down to the last copita.The Suite Edit

Service & food

The team here is young, warm and genuinely plugged into the neighbourhood, the sort who will text a tlayuda recommendation and then book it for you. The courtyard restaurant is the heart of the place, open to non-guests and busy in the best way. We ate a long, slow dinner of charred octopus, heirloom-corn tostadas and a mole that tasted of about thirty ingredients, paired with mezcals the bartender chose for us flight by flight. Breakfast is gentler: chilaquiles verdes, good concha bread, café de olla scented with cinnamon. The mezcalería runs late, and on our last night the courtyard filled with a low, happy hum well past midnight.

The verdict

Casa Tinta is for travellers who come to Mexico City for its art, its food and its nightlife and want to sleep at the centre of all three. Couples, design lovers and anyone who treats a hotel bar as a destination will be in heaven. The honest caveat follows directly from the charm: the courtyard mezcalería is popular and lively, and while the noise is part of the appeal, light sleepers should request a room on the upper floor at the rear, away from the music, rather than the courtyard-facing rooms we so enjoyed by day.