Antica Trattoria Al Gallo 1909, Ravenna

The year is 1909. The keel of the Titanic has just been laid. Louis Blériot has completed the first flight across the English Channel. The first ever Giro d'Italia is being competed. And Giuseppe Turicchia has completed the purchase of the horse stables and inn on the Via Maggiore in Ravenna on the site of what is now the Antica Trattoria.

The first motor races were being established, but at Al Gallo people were dining at Stallatico del Gallo con uso Locanda as their horses were being watered. Giuseppe evolved - years later this place would become a stopping point for the Mille Miglia race - then disaster struck.

Ravenna's strategic location with port and railway hub made it a target for allied bombing in World War II. The inn was destroyed: the stables were destroyed: but by a miracle the family home and restaurant survived. Giuseppe renamed it to its present day incarnation.

He carried on business along with his son, Umberto, who passed on the reins to his son Ferdinando, whose son Umberto is in charge today. Century old businesses are relatively rare. Those still in the same family are remarkable. But the question is, can you maintain standards over that length of time?

Well, they've certainly maintained the décor, which is stunning. A more beautiful restaurant would be hard to imagine. It's in the Liberty style. That's the Italian name for Art Nouveau. Ironically, it takes its name from Liberty of London. And what are Italians really good at? Well, many things, but I'm thinking about hospitality. Our Ravenna dining band has swollen to five. Some arrive early and the place isn't actually open. Not a problem. A table, menus, some water.

There don't seem to be many staff for what is quite a large place, but, boy, are they hard working. And attentive. And lovely. A smiling young man, whom I later learn to be Umberto, is clearly in charge, but there is an older gentleman who keeps a proprietorial eye on everything. Yes, that's dad Fernando. Old habits die hard.

And just to keep it all in the family, it's his wife Delia who's been running the kitchen for 40 years. Don't be fooled by the title. This is no more a trattoria than fly in the air. The menu is proof of a serious restaurant. There is a selection of eleven antipasti, none of which could be considered a standard. The flavour combinations are interesting. Courgette flowers with Gorgonzola and a red pepper sauce; chickpea velouté with salt cod bites. Truffles feature a fair bit, and there's more fish than one normally sees in these parts.

Two of the group had meatballs with anchovies and red pepper sauce with confit tomatoes. That's a lot of work for ten euros. For me it didn't quite hit the spot. The balls were a bit too solid and the dish a bit too dry, but a fascinating idea. Spaghetti with smoked pancetta, I get, but also with blackcurrant in the sauce? Worked surprisingly well, but you wouldn't want to eat a lot of it.

As seems to be the way this trip, the star plate was mine, again a slightly unlikely sounding one. Risotto with shallots and sea bass roe. As silky smooth as it should be, yet with the flavours coming through in perfect harmony. A 9/10 dish.

By the time you get on to the Secondi Piatti page, you're even more spoiled for choice. Unusually it's split into two sections, with five fish dishes and eight meat. I usually ask for the menu in Italian simply because the English translations can be eccentric. We would translate sgombro as mackerel: here they don't. It features in the English version as croaker. I've seen it otherwise referred to as kingfish; however, as this seems to be a Californian beast, I'm none the wiser. But whatever I ate was rather good, with onions and capers and balsamic. On less esoteric plates, the beef and veal dishes were good too and correctly cooked, proof that not all Italian chefs ruin meat.

Puddings! You can tell it was a special dinner. A chocolate ricotta tart with toasted almonds and caramelised figs couldn't fail to be a fine thing. But it was edged into second place by an ice cream concoction with salted caramel and crunchy bits (cashews, I think). To settle the gastric juices, I introduced John to grappa, as fine an example as I've ever drunk. Then technology failed. The taxi arrived but they hadn't been able to print the bill. I agreed to wait while they did it 1909 style, by hand. Umberto, ever apologetic, left the grappa bottle.

So I had a chat with Dad, then a chat with Umberto and some more grappa. Some things leave you with a warm glow. Great tradition is also one of them.