There aren't many gastronomic pilgrimages actually worth making, but the tiny Al Bicerin cafe in a secluded corner of Turin is definitely one of the most magical. The 'bicerin' in question is their signature drink, invented on the premises, and served daily to a long line of admirers who will happily queue for an hour on a wet Wednesday afternoon in January for the experience. The ingredients are simple: one espresso, one hot chocolate, and a dab of cream. The enigma is in the making, all done in a mysterious back room where the concoction is deftly prepared in a glass so that the elements sit in three distinct layers. The result: a drink where every mouthful has a different balance of bitter coffee, sweet chocolate, and indulgent cream. Brilliant.

So why have Antonio Carluccio's people decided to butcher it in his cafes? Order it in Cardiff and you'll get some kind of crazy DIY kit. Presumably risottos aren't served as a pile of dry rice, a glass of wine and a pitcher of stock, so why the 3 jugs of ingredients for a bicerin? If I wanted to make it myself I'd have stayed at home and done it for half the price.

'Authenticity' is Carluccio's selling point, and sadly the lack of it goes beyond a slightly esoteric Torino tipple. Half of it is there: most of the dishes stand out for their simplicity of ingredients and design. The trouble is, something's gone wrong with the other half: taste. This is food by numbers, and if there's one cuisine that doesn't stand up to that treatment it's Italian.

Try the carpaccio stuffed with mozzarella. Looks great on the plate, but there's no depth to the meat, and total blandness in the mozzarella. Texture rules OK.

How about the pasta test? This is where the near-neighbour Jamie's delivers big punches - even the simplest of dishes smacks you around the chops with ballsy flavours. But try the seafood linguine in both restaurants and there's a chasm between them. Carluccio's version skimps on the fish and whereas Jamie's linguine taste like they have an ocean of fish trying to burst out Carluccio's are, well, I'm so bored eating them I can't be bothered to conjure an adjective. And if you're still clinging on in the hope of a final flourish you'd best avoid the chocolate fondent. That's the one you remember from Masterchef: 'should be firm on the outside, gooey on the inside' you hear Greg roar. Let's hope he doesn't see Carluccio soon because this one was hard on the outside, hard on the inside, and not particularly warm.

The message is clear. If you want passion for Italian food which goes the whole way, Jamie's wins hands down. If you want a good cup of coffee Carluccio's is your man. Trouble is, they built a hell of a restaurant to turn out a reasonable cuppa.