Noto

Inside, the rooms open one into the next, with pale plaster walls, dark timber tables and bare bulbs hung low over each one. A great tangle of driftwood branches trails across one wall, and dried grasses stand in glass vases along the mantelpiece. Tall sash windows let in the daylight at the far end. The plates come to share: steamed buns and noodles, beef tartare under a crisp potato nest, seared scallop over mussels, lamb with charred greens and hazelnuts, and a pale sorbet with meringue shards in red coulis. Order more than you think, and pass them round.