It is the smell that makes you pause and stop by the faceless corner site on Tower Bridge Road. The scent of meat sizzling over charcoal on what passes for a warm summer’s evening in this town pulls you in as if deftly lassoed.

Argentinean parrillas (grills) are nothing new — there are a dozen links in the Gaucho Grill chain and doubtless more to come — but it is the individual enterprises like Buen Ayre in Broadway Market and this new one, Constancia in Bermondsey, that capture the spirit of the pampas.

I am not a steak bore. I have nothing much to say after a mouthful of steak other than “That’s nice” and then I look elsewhere on my plate for diversion. I suppose that is quite boring but arguably less so than dissertations on the comparative virtues of grass-fed, grain-fed, beer-fed, the US Department of Agriculture, the downsides and ignominies of feedlots and the maximum temperature of a broiler.

Argentineans are the largest consumers of beef in the world. A statistic I found on the web claims that 68 kilos of beef a year are consumed per capita. That must mean steak for breakfast, elevenses, lunch, tea, dinner and a late-night snack on most days. It is the babies I feel sorry for. Cattle, introduced in 1536 by Spanish conquistadors (I am quickly getting the hang of steak tedium), are for the most part grass-fed, ranging freely on the pampas. People who know an awful lot about steak tell you that as a result there is less saturated fat in the flesh and more omega 3 fatty acids (a good thing).

Because they eat so much beef, Argentineans are not obsessed with hanging meat for weeks on end. They have no time and anyway it is a bit hot there. Exporting it vacuum-packed, as they do, means the beef does mature but in a light-hearted sort of way. That is my scientific explanation of why the 10oz prime Argentine sirloin steak and the 11oz prime Argentine rib-eye steak which took the leading roles in the Parrillada Constancia (£23 per person, “minimo 2 personas”) were so fresh-tasting and also tender and biddable but not in an abject way. Even the fat was sweet.

Three of us ordered the parrillada for two set over a brazier of charcoal pieces covered in white ash. With two excellent chorizo sausages, apparently made locally following an Argentinean recipe, plus morcilla (black pudding) and a separate chafing dish of melted provolone cheese with oregano, there was plenty to share plus the means to leave the steak cooking to the point we deemed perfect. Chimichurri sauce made from garlic, herbs, olive oil, lemon juice and chilli flakes was served but when I had the temerity to ask for mustard it was cheerfully provided.

Before the main course we tried unusually light and piquant beef empanadas — what Cornish pasties might have been had they not been invented by the Cornish — and Tuscan prosciutto. After that the first courses sort of shrug their shoulders and tail off. They seem to be saying, charcoal-grilled red meat is the point of this place so why are you faffing about? A query echoed by the “platos vegetarianos” and also a side order of grilled red pepper strips, which showed not even a speck of charring. Among the other side dishes, chips with garlic and parsley were well worth adding to the mix but tomato and onion salad wasn’t. It sported pallid, tasteless tomatoes at a time of year when a sun-ripened vivid variety is easily obtained.

Steaks on their own start at £12 for an 8oz prime Argentine sirloin and rise to £21.50 for a 10oz prime Argentine fillet (medallón de lomo), which apparently has more flavour than tame British fillet but having your very own charcoal brazier gets you straight to the heart of this cuisine.

Ice cream is big in Argentina — something has to be done with all that milky by-product of a cattle culture. Dulce de leche, a delicious extreme version of condensed milk, is one of the best flavours. Dulce de leche also flavours cheesecake and flan (crème caramel). A Don Pedro is vanilla ice cream with whisky, chocolate and walnuts.

If an Argentine steak immediately brings to mind a bottle of Malbec, the Constancia wine list can help out with, for example, the well-structured Finca de Domingo 2005 at £22.80, an unusually restrained mark-up on retail price. When you ring to book, as is sensible — that char-grilling fragrance has the Bisto kids of Bermondsey beating a path to the unremarkable door — ask for a table near the entrance, otherwise the heat of the open kitchen around the corner can be a bit much.

A bit of parrillas gossip is that Alberto Abbate of Buen Ayre has opened Garufa in Highbury (104 Highbury Park, N5). Fans trooping to the Emirates Stadium appreciate the Full Argentine Bloody Mary breakfasts.