Sardo is the real Italian deal

This restaurant review was published in January 2002.

I must have walked past Sardo a hundred times without noticing. But if it had impinged on my consciousness, I'd have dismissed it as another pseudo-Italian punter-fleecing clichè, all chianti bottles and 'ciao bella' waiters wielding oversized pepper grinders; it has that look.

I was only tempted in by news of its authentically Sardinian menu; of all the regions, the deep south of Italy has an intriguing diet.

Instead, it's a warm, contemporary place with the feel of a neighbourhood restaurant. It's also staffed largely by attractive young women.

From the outset, with pane carasau or carta di musica, the poppadom-like Sardinian bread which came with splendid olives, and cocktails made with a local berry liqueur, vermouth and lime, we enjoyed an excellent meal. Fregola, a Sardinian speciality of handmade pellets of toasted pasta were a revelation: real bite, real nutty flavour in a broth heavy with clams and broccoli and heady with wine.

Asparagus was served grilled with the island's version of Parma ham and a musky blue cheese. The real showstopper, however, was tagliata, a chunk of stunning beef blasted to crispy blackness outside with an almost raw centre, dressed with a piquant cheese then cut into slices and served with just-wilted spinach and rosemary and garlic-roasted potatoes.

Sardo was buzzing with what seemed to be appreciative regulars and the atmosphere was so mellow we didn't want to leave. So I was wrong; well, books and covers and all that.