The sight of two chefs making fresh pasta in the window entice me into the long narrow room. The customers are young; the ambiance is noisy and buzzy. A helpful waitress shows me a place at the marble counter where I watch the culinary theatre at the open kitchen. Heaped trays of tomatoes, cauliflower, a huge pot of tomato sauce and roaring gas jets are the backdrop to an energetic team of chefs. The waitress offers advice. How right she was: a fried ball of polenta oozes gorgonzola, paradelle with chicken livers and fried sage leaves is the best pasta I have eaten in a long time. Even better is a stunning poached pear with honeycomb and lime cream. Banish memories of the stone-hard, bitter pears of dinner parties. These are flavoured with a memorable blend of spices running from cinnamon to floral aromas I can hardly describe. A glass of Sangiovese and I am replete. Speed of service fell flat at one time. I note that people tend to arrive early at lunchtime. Very good nonetheless. Lovely service.
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