Tartufo: A hidden fine-dining gem in elegant Belgravia

If I were looking for a romantic spot for a secret assignation … with great food … I'd be at Tartufo.

It's a quirky location, tucked in the basement of an Edwardian townhouse now kitted out as a super-posh boutique hotel at 11 Cadogan Gardens.  Nestled between Sloane and Cadogan Squares, this is a busy part of London, but you'd never know it on this quiet lane, in this subtly signposted hotel.  (It is, in fact, very easy to stroll by without realising it's a commercial premises.)

Giving Sarah an elegant send-off

Enter through a marvellously lush hall, decorated as if Oscar Wilde has just stepped out for a moment, head down the stairs and you'll find yourself in a warren of small dining rooms.  There's a conservatory roof in one, and they've all been decorated with mirrors, pale upholstery and light blue accents to make the place seem bigger.  But I doubt you could get more than six tables in any of the rooms without making it feel crowded.  Overall, this adds a cozy feeling, as if you were dining in someone's home or a private club rather than a restaurant.

Of course, we were there on a Monday night and it was fairly empty.  It risks feeling loud and crowded when full.  The set-up means rooms can easily be converted to private dining for groups, which was what took us there.  A farewell dinner for my longest -serving employee, who's been steadfastly at my right hand for more than eight years, deserved something really special.  And this fit the bill.

As you'd guess from the name, Tartufo is Italian.  It's on the gourmet end.  Definitely in Locanda Locatelli territory, this is Italian classics given the modern gourmet treatment: beautiful presentation, surprising combinations, the odd bit of foreign fusion.  Like smoked eel with yuzu jelly and chlorophyll sauce.  Everything we had was delicious and faultlessly cooked, even if it didn't trip my ethnic Italian buttons the way current favourite Luce e Limone does.

In traditional Italian style, you're encouraged to dine over four courses: antipasto, pasta, main and dessert.  Portion sizes are determined accordingly.  At four courses you emerge pleasantly full; at three, less delicate appetites might have felt a bit peckish.  As you might guess from the name, truffles feature heavily across the menu.

I started with the beef carpaccio, sliced ethereally thin and dressed with the appropriate delicacy to enhance rather than overwhelm the meat.  The paccheri pasta with crab was a touch less balanced.  Though the pasta was obviously freshly made and succulently al dente, the chef had edged just a bit too far into tomato territory, losing the subtlety of the crustacean.  The pork fillet wrapped in smoked pancetta was a tasty basic, made special by its base of aubergine and fennel puree (must try that at home) and a shaving of black truffles.

The standout course, ironically, didn't seem particularly Italian in any way other than its name: Conte di Cavour.  (He was an Italian nobleman and gourmand who was a force in the unification of Italy and died relatively young.  If this dessert is anything to go by, probably from diabetes.)  It's a dark chocolate wedge, somewhere between mousse and cheesecake, on a delightfully crunchy hazelnut base, slathered in dark chocolate ganache, decorated with praline and served with a bit of lemon ice on the side to cut the richness.  It's a dessert worth returning for.

There's a small, mostly Italian wine list filled with really interesting choices; regions or varieties that often don't leave the country.  We had the light yet fruity Shioppettino, one of my favourite reds from the North of Italy, and a crisp, friendly Vermentino from Sardinia that married well with many dishes.  But all sorts of other things tempted, from Puglian unknowns to Italian takes on Gewürztraminers and Reislings to a beguiling Morellino di Scansano.  Surprisingly for this very expensive area, more than 20 of those Italian options are under £50 a bottle and there are fine choices in the low £30s.

In fact, the prices are a pleasant surprise over all, with a flat a la carte rate of £30 for two courses, £35 for three and £40 for four.  Which probably brings your total for fine dining here in at less than The Orange, the posh gastropub I reviewed last entry, that's in the same neighbourhood.

I suspect the prices will go up.  This has the feel of a place testing the waters as it builds its reputation.  Alexis Gauthier, of the well-known eponymous Chelsea restaurant, is the financial backer.  GM Michael Lear, who was the front-of-house constant at our old favourite Roussillon (I wept when it closed) is at the helm here.  Back in the kitchen is a young Italian named Manuel Oliveri, about whom I predict we're going to be hearing a lot.  Check this place out now, before he gets famous.