An homage to classical Italian gastronomy, reinterpreted through contemporary elegance and uncompromising provenance.
A double-height carriage hall on Hay's Mews: Nero Marquina underfoot, brass at the cornice, thirty-six seats and one service a night.
The house was built in 1829 to keep the carriages of Charles Street. The carriage hall, tall enough to turn a brougham, is now the dining room. Its floor is Nero Marquina laid in 600-millimetre slabs; its walls are lime plaster the colour of champagne; and the brass is kept to the pendant rods, the rail of the bar, the bud vases and the hairline on the rim of every plate.
The kitchen stays north of Florence. Pasta is rolled each afternoon from a forty-yolk dough. Beef is Fassona from the Langhe, hung for forty-five days. The oil is Taggiasca, pressed the previous November and finished before the next. Thirty-six seats, dinner only, a single service each evening, so no table is ever asked to leave.
La Carta
Written at noon, printed at five, and changed by whatever arrives at the door. This is tonight's. Prices in pounds sterling; a discretionary fifteen per cent is added for service.
The wine list runs to 310 references, Piedmont and Tuscany foremost. The sommelier will bring it, or choose for you. Allergies and dietary requirements are taken at the time of booking and told to the kitchen before you arrive.
For evenings arranged entirely in advance: menus written with the head chef, wines chosen the week before, and nothing left to the night.
A room for twelve on the first floor with its own door onto the mews, a chimneypiece in Nero Marquina and a single long table. The menu is written for the evening with the head chef; the wines are chosen with the sommelier the week before. Tuesday to Saturday; Sunday and Monday by arrangement.
Six guests at one table in the cellar for a tasting built around a single idea: a vertical of Barolo from one producer, Brunello against Barbaresco, a decade of Etna. Two hours, led by the sommelier. Dinner can follow upstairs.
One number, answered by a person, for anything a table might need: a car at eleven, a cake that is not on the menu, an allergy the kitchen hears about before you arrive, the corner table, out of earshot.
Request a Table.
Tables are released on the first of each month for the month following, and a small number are held each evening for the telephone. Parties of seven or more, and the Salone Privato, are arranged through the concierge.
The door carries no name. Ring once.