Ristorante Etrusco, Turin

On our last night in Turin an Italian friend called us to say he had just arrived from the UK, also to visit the Salone del Gusto, and we arranged to eat together that evening. Taking an Italian for dinner, especially in Italy, has something of the double edged sword about it. It's helpful to have a knowledgeable and fluent companion, of course. But what will they think of our choice of restaurant? If the food's not up to scratch will they say so? What if we think it's really good and they don't? The sword has been honed to a sharp edge when your Italian guest is a chef, and threatens to draw blood at the slightest touch when that chef is a Marchigiano. Good job we know him well.

We chose Etrusco on some recommendation or other which I can't remember now. We were already in the restaurant when our friend arrived, like the whirlwind that he is, ushering in cold air from the crisp November night outside, then much shaking of hands and kissing of cheeks. We toasted each other with a bottle of prosecco and threw ourselves upon his mercy with the menu. He enquired politely of the hostess some things we didn't understand, but with a directness that clearly put her on her guard, which is exactly what our wily friend intended. Instead of the easy evening she was expecting with the two British know-nothings who had booked, she was clearly to be tested to the full by this knowledgeable Italian guardian. Her initially cool approach to us rapidly melted into eager-to-please fawning.

We shared three dishes of pasta: tagliolini with walnuts and speck, tagliatelle ragu and agnolotti. We thought the pasta was fine, but our friend was carefully non-committal. In the meantime our hostess attempted to ingratiate herself by recommening a fine bottle of barbera, which our friend tasted and merely nodded (I thought it was fantastic). Then osso bucco for the three of us, accompanied by roast potatoes. It wasn't outstanding.

The woman breathed a visible sigh of relief when we drained the wine, paid the bill and left, our friend bidding us thanks and farewell in clouds of breath on the night air. Tentatively I asked him if everything had been okay. "Oh, yes," he said, "it was all fine. But you have to keep them on their toes, don't you?"

Ristorante Etrusco, Via Cibrario Luigi, 52, 10144 Torino

Tel 011 480285

Didn't have my camera with me that evening, so here's a picture of the old Fiat building instead. Etrusco has no website of its own. Think they're worried in case our friend might contact them.