Imprevisto

Booking took some doing; the room is small and the city has noticed it. When the bill arrived I studied it longer than I usually admit to, and concluded, a little grudgingly, that the sums hold up. This is fine dining with real ambition, the sort you can taste in the exactness of a surprise menu you never chose. The crowd is telling: half the tables were anniversaries and promotions, the other half people who clearly eat this way for sport, and both camps left happy. My reservation (forgive the word) is the ritual itself; a long tasting sequence wears on me by hour two, however capable the kitchen. Still, for marking an occasion, this is money spent rather than lost. Once a year, gladly, when there is something worth celebrating.