CENTO Bangkok

All roads lead to Rome, and even in Bangkok, they lead to Roman cuisine.

When surrounded by the unctuous, assaulting flavours of Thai, a night off can provide a small respite for the tongue to heal and to return to the food that has sustained Italy for thousands of years.

So, on a Monday, Cento, not far from Lumpini Park, was our chosen destination. Whilst tempting to read every review before, and forensically examine the menu and wine list, we raw-dogged this one and just turned up.

Arriving, after slogging through the constant flow of Bangkok traffic, our taxi driver was reluctant to drive down the laneway that takes you to the restaurant. So, out we popped as the cake was being cut at a wedding event at Bitterman, an interesting-looking restaurant next door. We traversed the 50 yards down Sala Daeng 1/1, and there was the restaurant entrance. A darkly, elegant step up into what was previously an old warehouse.

And there. Before you even enter, there was a message to us on a bold, elegantly buffed brass plaque: Hospitality starts here. (Yes, it’s the picture above.) I don’t know why, but I felt a glimmer of childish excitement. It was the sort of feeling you get when you were about 8 years old, going to a friend’s birthday, and you know that they will have the biggest and best cake ever.

So, in we stepped, entering the half-light of the reception to be warmly greeted by not one, but two charming people. And then, we were in the restaurant area. On the left is a well-stocked bar, in the centre are tables brilliantly laid out with a low-dividing wall. On the far left three booths that let you survey the whole restaurant. The restaurant was almost full, with a low buzz of satisfied enjoyment.

Being just two of us and never having been there, I was ready to be ushered to the table for two just as you walk in. A discreet table that would have you looking back into the entrance way, the table of the non-booked guest I thought. But as we edged further in, we were being directed to the booth in the middle that surveyed the whole restaurant – it was a throne on which to dine.

Menus appeared. A good-looking wine list, too. Prosecco and a Chardonnay were ordered as we settled down to the main business of ordering. Not knowing the quantities that would arrive, we erred on the side of ordering caution.

We started out with Puffy bread and Mortadella, and a dish of grilled cabbage. Just written on a page, it sounds less than impressive. But let me assure you, the bread was light, thin, puffy and as tasty as you’d ever want. The mortadella firm, succulent, and delicious. When it came to cabbage, it was perfectly cooked with crisped edges that had sumptuous pieces of bacon on top. It really was quite something, firm cabbage with flame-seared edges and salty bacon that had melted on top of it.

The Manager then appeared and poured our Barone Ricasoli Chianti Classico. It has one of the most elegant wine labels I’ve seen, and as it was poured, he suggested we may have missed the best dish, the Hamachi Crudo, which he said was coming for free. Did he think we were Michelin inspectors on a date? And what a delight. Perfectly cut mouthfuls of white fish in an exquisite, spiced sauce with an elegant chilli piece on each.

After making our way through that, bowls of Tagliolini Vongole and Beef Cheek Paccheri arrived. The little clams were excellent, but the pasta was slightly overcooked. The beef dish was amazingly rich, and the wine elegantly cut through, balancing fruit and acidity to deliver an almost perfect main.

Convinced we hadn’t eaten enough, the Manager then comped us the house cheesecake. Delightfully light and just enough of a portion size to leave you wanting one more bite, it rounded off the meal perfectly. Would I go back? In a heartbeat.

Food score 15/20

Wine score 16/20

Service score 15/20

Ambience score 18/20

Rushing back score 16/20

Total 80/100