Blanka Hezelova
Google
We arrived without a reservation yet were seated within five minutes—an impressive start. As we were led through the kitchen to a back dining room, I half-expected to be handed a sponge and told to scrub pans as penance for our oversight. Thankfully, no such punishment was administered.
The service was immediately striking. Before a single food order was taken, we were offered still or sparkling water—a small detail, but one that sets the tone for the entire evening. Drinks followed swiftly, along with a basket of fresh bread that was warm, soft, and undeniably tempting.
For starters, we shared the Caprese salad. The mozzarella was impossibly creamy—like tasting the very essence of nature—and the tomatoes, ripe and bursting with flavor, were a perfect match. Bottles of balsamic vinegar and extra virgin olive oil were provided to drizzle as liberally as one dared. The bread proved an excellent vehicle for soaking up the remaining juices, leaving us perfectly primed for the next course. (A nearby child, however, succumbed to the food’s soporific powers and drifted off to sleep at the table—compliments to the chef for such culinary hypnosis.)
Then came the pasta, and with it, a small revelation. I ordered the wide noodles with wild boar ragù—deep, rich, and perfectly balanced—while my partner opted for the mushroom tagliolini special, a dish that could easily have been mistaken for a chef’s personal masterpiece. Each bite was coated in sauce with precision, never heavy, always harmonious.
The Chianti was a flawless pairing—so much so that I may be writing this with a pleasantly tipsy glow, aided by the attentive and charming service.
Finally, dessert. We chose the trio to sample a bit of everything. The chocolate cake was rich, sophisticated, and satisfying—but the tiramisu deserved its own standing ovation. Entirely homemade, the sponge was soft and airy, free of the coarse sugar crystals that betray store-bought versions. The coffee was bold but never bitter, the mascarpone smooth and feather-light. On my personal (and admittedly wine-influenced) scale, it earns a confident 9.7/10.