Designer Philipe Starck envisaged Bon’s interior as a temple to the ‘trinity of holy vices’ – violence, sex, and food. A mocking nod towards the opulence of Moscow’s oligarchs, the decor is brilliantly camp: golden thrones and car-tire seats, walls adorned with grafitti and copulating frescos, all lit by gigantic, wax-dripping candelabras and Kalashnikov lamps. A meal begins with complementary bread made on the premises, in a delicious mock-communion.

In contrast to the extravagance of the surroundings, the menu is surprisingly unpretentious, with chef Fabio Testa providing hearty Italian fare. The bar has an impressive list of cocktails (some of them copyrighted) to take you into the evening, when the restaurant becomes a club; it would be difficult to find a more decadent backdrop for a wild night of dancing.