Ask Bianka to choose the wine and she will first ask what you are eating, then what sort of day you have had, and only then open the list. That order tells you most of what matters about her. She is twenty-three and lives in Knightsbridge. At 165 cm she has a curvy figure and hazel eyes, and her hair, long and light brown, turns paler towards the ends, as though it spent last summer somewhere brighter than London.
Warmth is her natural register; attention is her skill. Mention once that you take your espresso short and she will order it that way for the rest of the evening. She cooks Italian food seriously at home, rolls her own pasta on slow Sundays and holds firm views on how long a risotto should rest. Vintage fashion is the other devotion: a well-cut coat from one of the dealers off Kensington Church Street would make her week. She speaks English in an easy, low voice that suits a corner table.
For dinner in SW7 she points you towards the Baglioni on Hyde Park Gate, facing Kensington Gardens. The Italian dining room there suits her completely: generous plates of pasta, a cellar she can talk you through without showing off, and staff who leave a table alone once it is happy. Your own hotel is a short taxi ride away, or, if you are staying upstairs, simply a lift. Bianka sets a gentle tempo and keeps the focus on you rather than on the room, which is exactly why guests ask for her again.
She visits hotels and residences in South Kensington and the neighbouring districts. Read the rates for every duration, then send one message describing the evening you have in mind.
