La Locanda di Desideria, Carnaiola, Umbria

Sometimes you sit in a restaurant and wonder, don't you, if you've made the right choice? This time the choice had been made for us by the owner of the agriturismo where we were staying. She insisted that we eat well that evening and took the liberty to book, on our behalf, a local trattoria in Carnaiola, the next village. (Easy to see across the wooded valley, less easy to reach by road!) The food there was very good, she assured us, as the chef was a Marchigiano who had moved to the area. Chefs from Le Marche are renowned across Italy for their kitchen skills.

Our arrival was observed by curious, giggling children, who seemed not used to seeing visitors from outside their village, let alone anyone as alien as English people. A sign outside the dour stone building said simply 'cibo e vino' – food and wine. The down-to-earth theme was to continue throughout the slightly surreal evening.

The trattoria's owner stood expectantly, and perhaps a little impatiently, at the door and welcomed us with a simple, knowing enquiry – "inglese?" He had a touch of the Marco Pierre White about him; an edge of unpredictability off which he might topple at any moment. You pay attention to people like that. We were led to a small table inside an empty, cavernous room, where the chef's wife sat on a sofa, breast feeding their baby. Their blonde-curled toddler son wandered up and chattered to us at length, oblivious that we couldn't understand him. A swallow flitted around the vaulted ceiling of the restaurant, perching at intervals on the iron tie-rods that held the ceiling together, seemingly unable to find its way out.

The restaurant remained deserted, apart from us, all evening, though we later realised that Italy were playing a World Cup match that night. The menu we were offered was frugal in its choice – first pasta, then meat. But less frugal in its delivery. We ate delicious ravioli in a sauce of pistachio nuts and poured red wine from a chipped jug. The chef and his family sat at the next table and enjoyed the same food. Except they finished first.

Then the meat. A single, huge, pork chop on an old plate. Nothing else. Tender and succulent, simply grilled with a light touch of fennel and garlic and served with its meagre cooking juices. I'd like to say there was a wedge of lemon on the side of the plate, but I don't think there was. I'd also like to say that I've never had a pork chop so good. I can taste it now.

As we pushed back our empty plates, the chef said goodnight and disappeared out of the front door. A motorbike growled into life and he was gone. To watch the rest of the match, probably. We never saw him again. His wife cleared our plates, then settled on the sofa with the children as we finished the wine. I think she forgot we were there. The baby had fallen asleep in her arms, and then she and the toddler, exhausted, fell asleep too, leaving us the problem of how to ask for the bill and exit the restaurant.

I'll leave you to work out how we did it. The swallow was still there when we left, by the way.

Locanda di Desideria, Via Piave, 25 Carnaiola - Fabro (TR)

Tel 0763 839452

La Locanda di Desideria, Umbria