Intricate Italian needs a Nana

Brera is a vast, smart, elegant restaurant. The dÈcor may be neutral but the atmosphere is pure formal dining. The cuisine - I can't call it merely food - was Milanese, which, as we discovered, is a world away from Jamie Oliver's "simple" approach to Italian. It's all unbelievably rich - something you'll need to be if you plan to eat here. That said, my absurdly pretty tuna carpaccio (£13) was exquisite - even if my tummy, attuned to the fresh, clean flavours of sushi bars, got the quease at the heavy veal jus.

However, some of the dishes had an over-the-top feel. My companion, an ex-Italian resident, thought the likes of gold leaf and prosecco risotto (£11.50) would be scoffed at in Rome. Sounded rather fun to me. Still my main - an impossible-toeattidily leaning tower of monkfish encrusted with nuts on a cauliflower patty (£17) - was a work of art. (Brera is named after a district of Milan renowned for its art collection). Although it looked good, it tasted surprisingly bland.

My companion's £24 grilled Dover sole looked like it could have taken a small whale in a fight and was all the more delicious for being, unlike most else on the menu, nakedly underdressed. The friendly, if ill-informed, staff - we needed help with an intriguing wine list and there was no sommelier - outnumbered the diners. The poor showing only added to the feeling this was one more for expense-account lunches than intimate dinners. But where Brera hit its stride was with its puddings. Berry-cheeked and be-frosted with icing, a modest-sounding pear and almond tart (£6.50) was not only beautiful but utterly delicious. A selection of fragrant grappas ensured we left Brera aglow.

Brera Restaurant
74 Welbeck St, W1G 0BA