Le Jardin, Rome

Have you ever found yourself coveting film scenes in which the powerful—lawyers with titanium spines, bankers who dine on interest, celebrities trailed by their own reflections—dine beneath a vast, obliging sky? Where gardens surround, staircases swerve, and perfumed air kisses citrus trees? Le Jardin, tucked within the Hotel de Russie, is where this dream comes to life. Painted parrots flash improbable colours; butterflies trace looping paths through the air; leafy trees stand alongside mandarins and lemons, arranged with the formality of a family portrait. Recently reopened, the restaurant now bears the considered hand of Italian artist Gio Bressana, who has reimagined Giuseppe Valadier’s nineteenth-century giardini d’inverno.

My husband and I booked an apartment in central Rome. A leisurely twenty-five-minute stroll to the restaurant led us through streets thrumming with life—locals hurrying home from work, tourists dawdling, the scent of chestnuts roasting on every corner in the eight-degree chill. Inside the hotel, we passed through a lobby adorned with sculpture, art, sofas, and decor, evoking the grand living room of an Italian political household.

The climb up a palatial staircase led us to Aquazzura Bar, Edgardo Osorio’s design in marine-blue tiles painted with lemons. Potted trees, trellised foliage, and striped parasols framed the space. My husband indulged in a cocktail by Federico Pavan and Matteo Capezzuoli—a mezcal Negroni, paprika sprinkled along the rim—before we turned to Chef Fulvio Pierangelini’s tapas: potato cubes crowned with caviar and yogurt; corn-and-shrimp tacos finished with almonds; olives, improbably large and theatrical.

The Aquazzura Bar. Image credit: Le Jardin

The chill crept in, and we retreated to the dining room for our meal. Crystal chandeliers cast their glow over white tablecloths. Painted creepers climbed the pillars, leaf by ornamental leaf. Through tall windows, the garden lingered in view—muted and receding, glimpsed between courses. Personal butlers moved through the room as if perfectly choreographed, silver cutlery flashing.

Indoor dining. Image credits: Le Jardin de Russie

We kicked things off with both excess and intention. A scatter of starters: Avocado, Pear, and Scallop Salad; Red Mazara Prawns tangled with broad beans; and Octopus Pasta with potatoes and friggitelli. For the mains: beef chop with agretti; sea bass off the grill, with lemon and rosemary doing their reliable work; anglerfish laid between raw salami and a bed of leaves; and Tomato and Basil Pasta. Then the evening slipped its final mask: Ricotta and Strawberry Millefeuille, and of course, coffee!