Behind the scenes, everything begins at the table. We test glass heights, listen to the crunch of the bread, measure the fall of the oil on the plate. It’s a dress rehearsal in which every gesture matters: temper, aerate, cut, wait. The aim is simple and demanding at once: for bread, oil and wine to dance in harmony.

The bread leads the way. When it’s just right—lively crumb, fine crust—it becomes a canvas. Upon it, an early-harvest oil shows its character: green at the start, silky after, with a cleansing finish. We adjust temperature and quantity: a single tear can be enough if the nuance asks for discretion; at other times a generous thread reveals notes that in small amounts would go unnoticed.

Then the glasses arrive. There’s no rush here. We observe how the first sip changes after the oil, how a saline bite asks for freshness, and how a creamy texture appreciates structure. We speak in categories, not proper names: there are whites that brighten the crisp, fortifieds that embrace the savoury, reds that support spices without smothering them, sweet wines that draw the curtain at the end. The rule is one: what’s in the glass must make what’s on the plate better—and vice versa.

The sequence is polished through small movements. Sometimes it’s enough to change the order: first warm bread with oil and a pinch of fresh herb; then a cleansing sip; and finally a bite with nuts that lengthens the conversation. At other times the adjustment is finely judged: a degree less at serving temperature, a minute more of rest. The patio sets the tempo and reminds us that elegance lies in proportion.

There’s also a wink we save for the end: a limited edition, hand-numbered that will appear at the right moment. We’ll say no more. Only that it’s born of small, patient processes—the kind that prefer silence to the shop window. Like every good promise, it’s kept when the table is ready.

This dress rehearsal doesn’t chase spectacle; it seeks the truth of details. A crumb that yields, a bitterness that awakens, an acidity that brings order, a sweetness that doesn’t intrude. We also look for a gracious choreography in service: timing, spacing, temperature, light. So that everything flows without drawing attention to itself.

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Would you like a front-row seat?

• Private waiting list: sign up for priority access to the hand-numbered limited edition and the first tasting places.
• November experiences in the Patio: very limited places.
  • Artisanal Perfumery workshop (€119)
  • 360·Pause: talk + brunch (€69)
  • Meditation & Chocolate (€45)

Join the waiting list and choose your November experience. We’ll write to you with the details and exact dates before we open to the public.