It was a valid question. I had just sent a couple of pictures from my dinner date with a Tinder match from the night before to a couple of my traveler friends. One was of a beautiful horse a few feet from our table followed by one of a beautifully groomed, huge speckled bull (horns filed into nubs for safety) equally close to where I was eating.

To be clear, I was not dining al fresco.

I was at the traditional Colombian restaurant La Mayoria above the town of Envigado, part of the metropolitan area of the Aburrá Valley that cradles Medellín. The fact that Envigado is separate from Medellín is a political fact, not a geographic one. You can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

La Mayoria, on the other hand, is quite distinct. Their motto is Donde Bailan Los Caballos (Where Horses Dance). I hadn’t fully understood that statement on the website after my date Edith, a lovely woman who lives in Envigado, suggested it. I most certainly did not expect the horses to be INSIDE the restaurant. But inside they were, and the evening of dining and entertainment was fantastic.

Edith and I sat at a table in an area immediately to the right of the entrance. I could tell I was in for more than I expected when I saw that our table was on one side of a wooden fence that separated us from an oval cobblestone track that had a room full of tables on the other side and also in the middle of the oval. The area above the oval was a couple of stories tall, and there was another level of tables above those closest to the fence on either side.

Shortly after our pitcher of sangría and appetizer plate of chicharrones arrived, two horses were led into the room on either side of the oval. The handlers slowly walked them around and allowed them to stand in place at various points around the oval for everyone to admire. They were beautiful steeds, but one seemed a little nervous. My best guess is that they were being acclimated to the crowd, which was well-behaved but probably intimidating nonetheless if you grew up in a barn and pasture. After making the circuit, they were led out. I’m guessing they were both relieved.

“Meh,” I thought. It’s kind of cool to see horses inside a restaurant, but it wasn’t much of a show so far. Then things started to pick up. Act two arrived with rider in saddle and proceeded to prance in a very controlled gait around the oval, clop, clop, clopping on the cobblestones in a staccato rhythm. Well, multiple rhythms actually as the rider adjusted the horse’s gait.

As a native of Tennessee and being aware of the unnatural and painful (many would say inhumane) training that Walking Horses are put through to develop the high-stepping prance for which they are known, I have mixed feelings over how much I enjoyed this performance. It was undeniably entertaining, and I still feel a twinge of guilt over the fact that I liked it so much.

After an intermission of sorts with another handsome steed and a singing vaquero who serenaded his four-legged partner, the next dancing horse entered the room with an altogether different performance. This one moved with more speed and grace around the oval. I can only describe it as moves that reminded me of drifting, the style of car racing in which the driver oversteers, causing the rear end to lose traction around corners. The horse wasn’t actually losing traction. It seemed extremely sure-footed, but as it went around bend of the oval, its nose would point toward the center of the room as its rear pointed away, rotating faster than its snout. I don’t know if it was doing some sort of side or crossover step with its rear legs, but it was mesmerizing and beautiful. It was also able to switch between making a rhythmic clop on the cobblestones and making no sound at all, as if it was dancing on air.

The rest of the barnyard show included the aforementioned bull led slowly around the room and a very well-behaved, kissing llama that I didn’t see spit on anyone as it posed for countless pictures, lips puckered on cue against delighted cheeks of young and old alike. That Saturday night, the final act was a singing duo that performed various Latino ballads. It was a great date night.

So great, in fact, that my fellow travelers and I decided it would be the perfect place to go back to the following Thursday night for my going away dinner from Medellín. We started spreading the word, and before long I had 17 other people confirmed to join me on a return visit. Although the show was more abbreviated and the location was in a different part of the restaurant with a straight cobblestone path rather than the oval, which meant there was no room for the drifting performance that was my favorite from the first night, it was just as much fun the second time around.

Oh yeah, the food is good, too – traditional, hearty, Colombian fair – but that’s not why I’d go back.

P.S. I don’t get paid for the links in this post. They are there for your convenience.