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It’s the done thing at Alta to prop at the bar with a plate of brandacujun – the rustic snack of salt cod, potato, lemon and olive – served with decidedly unrustic crostini wafers.

Let the smart floor crew lead you through the drinks list, which puts wine front and centre. The barolo situation is serious, as you’d expect at a Piedmontese joint. Pulling up a chair in one of the intimate nooks isn’t unheard of, either.

Don’t miss the pasta, wherever you sit. Tajarin, the region’s egg-rich noodles, freight an allspice-scented veal ragu. Hazelnuts and pine mushrooms take spindle-shaped gnocchi in a suitably bosky direction.

It’s not a rummage through the chef’s bag of tricks that distinguishes Alta from Melbourne’s mainstream Italian. It’s the careful, respectful cooking, and laser-focus on the food of a single, spectacular region.