The night we decide to check out the newest offerings at Il Teatro, it’s the day before Ramadan. As such, we’re not alone in the quiet, elegant interior, but we still get in sans reservation. Despite having multiple diners in the restaurant, it still feels spacious and intimate, which is helped by dim lighting (dim lighting always helps). When the menu arrives, I’m feeling fairly secure that something good will be coming our way: after all, Il Teatro has long held a place of esteem with Qatar foodies.

Located on the lower level of the Four Seasons, it maintains the hotel’s elegance without smothering us in superfluous cutlery: it’s starkly elegant, without a hint of pretention to be found. While we peruse the new menu, we’re presented with one of my favourite parts of dining anywhere in the Four Seasons: the bread. I don’t know who’s baking it, but the rolls feel like they’ve been crafted by tiny elves who delight in thwarting the firmest Atkins believer.

For starters, we try the spin on risotto carnarol. Il Teatro was in fact the first ‘nice’ restaurant I went to, mere days after arriving in Qatar, and the first place I ever had risotto. But, not one to linger in the past, even if it was excellent, I leave the risotto to my dining companion and order the ravioli.

When it arrives, it’s presented in a long tray, gleaming with butter sauce. Now, I’m usually picky about my ravioli: reared on the delights of Chef Boyardee and a recent convert to luxe pasta, I find many butter sauces overpoweringly cloying. But these are tender and moist, bursting with flavour and spilling out cheese and rich aubergine filling, presented with a subtle sauce. Although at first it looked like a tiny portion, I felt afterwards that it was just right. The risotto too, by the contented slurps of my friend, is delicious – tender, but not mushy, with a firm texture.

For mains, Il Teatro has gone a little fancy, a little experimental, and I’m lured in by the guinea fowl with chocolate sauce. Yes, that’s right: poultry and chocolate, together at last. My friend opts for the slightly safer lamb chops, which on arrival smell delightful, but appear to be cooked unevenly – some are bright pink, some are well done, and few hit the slightly-pink he requested. He still enjoys them, but it unnervingly makes me wonder what my own main is going to be like.

My guinea fowl is less exciting than I anticipated, but is still a moist piece of meat, which mostly tastes like chicken, with just a hint of duck. Smothered in a rich dark covering that’s a little like a black mole sauce, spices and chocolate combined, I also found bits of orange rind. And that’s where things got weird. I’m all for innovative flavour combinations (I ordered the chocolate-covered bird, remember?), but I’m not so keen when these flavours start to mostly taste like one of those orange-filled chocolates people shun and leave abandoned in the box at Christmas.

As a result, I feel like I’m picking my way around my plate, making sure I’m not overwhelmed in any one bite by the many warring flavours of the dish. This is not the way I’m accustomed to dining at restaurants like Il Teatro (it usually involves gleefully scraping every remaining morsel from the plate). Next up is dessert. For fine dining, we’re full, but not overwhelmingly so: while he may have crammed an overabundance of ingredients into the dishes, the chef nailed portion size. We go for the chocolate fondant for my friend, and for myself the praline semifredio. When it arrives, mine is a nut-flavoured dollop of foam next to a frozen mound of what feels in my mouth like sorbet. Pleasing, but again, far too may things going on on one plate. The fondant, however, which comes served with lemongrass sorbet, is a revelation. Oozy and rich, the cake is lovely, but what really shines is the sorbet: for once, messing with ingredients has proven to be a good idea. Tart and light, it has a spicy finish and a palate-cleansing freshness that’s the perfect side
to dark chocolate.

Il Teatro is still a good place to dine: the atmosphere and service can’t be beaten. However, the chef needs to calm down, letting the food stand for itself, and stop making meat taste like reject chocolates.

The bill (for two)
1x risotto carnarol QR80
1x ravioli QR75
1x lamb chops QR240
1x guinea fowl QR180
1x prailine samifredio QR55
1x chocolate fondant QR55
2x water QR80
1x caffè latte QR40
Total (incl charges) QR805