So successful has London's Bocca di Lupo (trans: Mouth of the Wolf) become since its opening a few short months ago that, even attempting to book three weeks in advance, I had been unable to secure a table for lunch. I was offered instead two seats at the bar, at which the full menu is served. Not even the prospect of wobbling uncomfortably atop a high stool could keep me away – I had heard that the food was exceptional.

As it happened, when we arrived there was a free table. We knew we were in the right place when we spotted Christian Colson, the Oscar-winning producer of Slumdog Millionaire, sitting within a few feet. Well, it is Soho, where the film, fabric and sex industries have peacefully co-existed for generations.

The bar is a long, glamorous stretch of white marble and if you did elect to perch here you would have a fine view of chef Jacob Kennedy (late of one of my favourite London restaurants, Moro) and his colleagues at work. The dining room at the back is cosier – dramatic art, simple wooden tables, terrazzo floor. Downstairs the mirrors in the loos are inscribed with enigmatic aphorisms. "The trouble at the bottom of the pot is known only to the spoon," said one.

The menu had been described to me as "tapas – Italian style" and that fairly sums it up. The food is regional Italian and the menu changes every day. There are sections for raw and cured; fried; pastas and risottos; soups and stews; grilled and pan-fried; and roasts and sides, and most dishes can be ordered in either large or small portions. There are also half a dozen one-dish meals served at lunch and pre-theatre.

We opted for a selection of small dishes so that we could cover as much of the menu as possible. We started with an exceptional tuna tartare with oranges, capers and pine nuts (Sicilia, stg£8.50) served timbale style; lamb prosciutto with pecorino (Sardegna, stg£7) – described by my date as "very lamb-y, mutton-y almost" (we loved it), and an extraordinary crescentini (fried bread) with finnocchiona (fennel-scented salami), speck and squacquerone cheese (Bologna, stg£5.50). We fought over every last morsel.

We moved on to grilled giant scallop with agretti (lemony sea grass) (Veneto, stg£16), veal scalloppine with artichokes and lemon (Lazio, stg£8), and a handful of grilled red prawns (Campania, stg£2.50 each). Each dish was more delicious than the next, executed perfectly. We mopped up every trace of sauce.

I'd be happy (and healthy) to eat a plateful of cime de rapa with garlic and chilli (Puglia, stg£5.50) for dinner every night of the week but the fried crispy artichoke a la giudia (Roma, stg£4) – nattily, seductively better than any I have ever had in Rome – would have to be a more occasional treat, on the grounds of sinfulness.

We really didn't have room for pudding after all that, but sanguinaccio – sweet pate of pig's blood and chocolate with sourdough bread (Abruzzo, stg£6), described to us by our waiter as "Nutella, basically, very rich" – was just too challenging to ignore. It was exactly as described, unctuous but ultimately just too much. Zabaione semifreddo (Piemonte, stg£7) was altogether more user-friendly, nutty, yummy – we almost finished it.

Our bill, including two glasses of Collavini Blanc, a bottle of San Pellegrino, a couple of coffees and 12.5% service came to stg£109.91. The international staff was universally cool, charming and good-looking – something of an achievement. The place was nicely buzzy, without being too loud.

You could as successfully visit Bocca di Lupo for a long social lunch (like the two guys at the next table, tucking into tagliata of beef and a serious bottle of red with expressions of pure bliss) as you could for the quick business version. Definitely one for the list.

bocca di lupo

12 Archer Street,
Soho,
London W1D 7BB
00 44 20 7734 2223

Rating:5/5