They may cook honestly here but all the entourage, dishes, service remind you summer vacations at your grandma’s. Although the personnel here are mostly grandpas, aged waiters wearing trim white shirts.

Visitors are not too considerately treated: you won’t have much time to think on the menu – they start to urge you on: “Parla, parla. Is everything clear? Here’s fish soup, here’s pasta with cockle-shells, fish lasagna…” (all cooked by another grandpa doing his best in the kitchen).

There is no cash desk to print receipts here. A crafty waiter will write out your bill with a pen on a piece of paper – inventing the prices on the spot: bread – 2 euros, cover – 3 euros, … Paying by a card is only possible if you ate more than 50 euros worth of food. Otherwise it does not pay to the grandpas.

It is said to be one of Joseph Brodsky’s favourite restaurants. Well, may be… may be…