Of all the focaccias in all the city’s sandwich shops and wine bars, it has to be this one. Tall, dimpled and sproingy-fresh, the tanned temptress beckons from the bar top at the entrance of a mood-lit marble and maroon room. Straddling Carlton North and Fitzroy North, Lagotto attracts a well-dressed young professional crowd: groups of suits, dates and mate-dates.

Waitstaff will pour you a splash of anything you’re less familiar with and affirm each of your choices with “gorgeous”. And so they are. A slab of lush duck lasagne, its cross section crisped on the grill, luxuriates in intensely cheesy parmesan foam.

A skewer of ruffled pastrami is understatedly plated with black-garlic ketchup. Pork chop partnered by bittersweet kumquat jus and radicchio that tones in with the room. Woof; this is a handsome Italian with pedigree, just like its namesake dog breed.

Good to know: The curved loveseat banquette is the top spot for two

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