I approached Convivio with caution because when it comes to tapas in Houston, I've been burned before. The genre isn't complicated in and of itself — these are the plates that originated as a bonus for ordering a drink, after all — but keeping the essential Spanish character without making everything boring or bland can be tricky.

I think Conviviio owners Oscar Aguilar and Marta Vina have the right idea, though. (It probably helps that Vina is a native of Madrid and Aguilar has family in Spain.) The restaurant has classed up what was a boring, boxy space when it held Table 7, adding earthy textures like warm orange light fixtures and community tables made of thick, beautifully idiosyncratic slabs of wood to balance the sleekly urban glass surroundings.

Like any tapas bar, the wine is key here. The wine menu leans Spanish, with plenty of cavas, garnachas (grenache) and tempranillos to go around, plus an expanding lounge space to enjoy it in.

The albondigas, or Spanish pork meatballs, were a zesty start, attractively presented and packing a harissa-tinged pop of spice in a bite-sized package. The bread served alongside them only got in the way, but was great for collecting the thick tomato sauce left behind.

When it comes to judging the authenticity of Spanish tapas, there are two things that must be right. The pa amb tomaquet (that's bread and tomato in Catalan) is the unofficial dish of Barcelona, and like bruschetta, it started as a way to preserve stale bread by rubbing it in tomato and adding some olive oil. At Convivio, the bread isn't stale but just crusty enough and the tomato component is covered by a slice of serrano ham. It's a serious departure, but not an unpleasant one.

The tortilla española, dubbed a "tortilla de patatas," has also been tweaked. Instead of a thick, quiche-like cake of egg, potato and onion served in slices, the plate comes instead with three miniature versions. It's a brilliant adaptation, because not only does it better fit a menu of shared plates, but the more dynamic texture in the bite-size version is friendlier to American tastes — I love it, but I'll admit the original can be a bit dense and boring.

The pièce de résistance is also the one plate that requires no cooking at all — four thick slices of "pata negra" jamón iberico, arranged into loose mounds. Aguilar imports it directly from Spain, and with its luscious balance of salty and sweet, it's easy to see why he calls it the best ham in the world. Of course, at $25 for the plate, it better be.

The shrimp croquetas were actually more like thickly breaded shrimp, but the overcooked protein and heavy potato breading both need some tweaking. I was less impressed by the scallops, mostly because they were served at room temperature, but the saffron-accented crème fraiche sauce they were served in was nice.

My favorite dish of the night was the foie gras, served in dish with plenty of microgreens and bits of pear for some light, bitter and sweet notes that played nicely with the rich elements of the plate.

There's not much competition, but I'd say Convivio has grabbed the mantle for the best tapas in town. With plates starting at $6, prices might give some a little pause, but the reasonable wine list is a decent counterbalance. Convivio fits nicely into that middle ground between a restaurant and a bar — if it served beer instead of wine, we might call a gastropub. Gastro wine bar doesn't really have the same ring to it.

I think Washington devotees will find it a nice place to start or end the night (the kitchen keeps Spanish hours, natch) but I can see lingering here over empty plates and plenty of wine.