No Senso

When the search for great food starts to feel like climbing Everest, you need a 'Food Sherpa' who's going to get you to the top of the gastronomic mountain. You need a guide; a waiter who knows the menu back to front. What you do not need is some kind of 'yes man' servant who gives the impression of lightening your load, yet allows you to fluff the directions, ending with you both perishing in a culinary wasteland...

Eating out should be an adventure. I like to be whisked away for few of hours, to a faraway place where the food, atmosphere and service seamlessly interact. Service should add to the illusion rather than detract from it. Constant re-filling of water/wine, cutlery fiddling and napkin straightening, bordering on OCD, can be seen as 'attentive' - or just plain annoying.

Good service for me is a smile, and, yes, an opinion. I want a bit of passion, not a fawning “whatever Sir desires” while I try to choose one of the eight dishes I have narrowed the menu down to. Even in 2 and 3 Michelin star restaurants you get a smile and an opinion – it's not all starch and stuffiness. Non-committal just gets my (mountain) goat.

So this is what goes through my head as I sit wincing to the soundtrack of waiters clattering my cutlery, cutting the atmosphere of Club Street's up-market Italian restaurant, Senso, like a pick axe.

Senso's opulent menu bulges with Lobsters, truffles, Barolos and Brunellos, but all I want is something a little more 'rustic'. I order the Homemade Ravioli stuffed with braised Veal shank, served with Porcini Mushrooms sauce ($26), while my dining partners get into the Lobster and truffles with Homemade Taglierini Pasta with Boston Lobster and fresh Basil ($32) and Homemade Fettuccine Pasta in Butter sauce with Italian Summer Black Truffle ($ 30).

I know the ravioli is homemade because, sadly, the pasta is too thick. It is less of a fluffy pillow than a sack made of window putty, but the sauce and filling are tasty nonetheless. The Lobster and truffle choices get a reluctant thumbs up from my table guests – it seems the non-committal response is rubbing off.

The luxurious truffle seems to permeate every corner of the menu from the fettuccine starter to the fillet beef main with it's black truffle sauce, Filetto di Manzo Australiano con salsa al tartufo nero, verdurine e Gnocchi alla Romana ($38). Over-truffling your menu, like over-attentive service, is just over-compensating as far as I'm concerned. The pretentiousness hides the sad truth that the food just isn't good enough.

I do get a glimpse of some personality from two of the waiters as they arrive with my main of Traditional Veal Ossoboccu with Lemon 'Gremolata' on Rosemary Polenta Mousse ($38). One of the guys hides the individual pot of ossobucco while the other wishes me “buon appetito” with my polenta. As I'm about to question the whereabouts of my slow-cooked veal the little joker produces the pot from behind his back with a chuckle. The joke would have been funny it it weren't for the dried up piece of veal that I'm served that has the consistency of a hiking boot.