It’s unlikely that anyone will just stumble into Alto, chef Scott Conant’s new high-reaching Italian restaurant, given its hidden entrance on East 53rd Street. The reservationist was careful to warn me that, even though the restaurant’s address is Madison Avenue, it is in fact located just past a Berlin Wall-like sculpture and through a courtyard filled with cafe tables. Finding it, then, feels downright rewarding, like gaining access to a private club – a feeling that persists inside the restaurant.

Designed by partner Vicente Wolf, Alto’s interior balances stark modernism with four-star appointments: In the 80-seat main dining room on the lower level, towering glass-enclosed wine cabinets, showcasing thousands of mostly decorative bottles (the real cellar is underground), rise to the ceiling behind muted gray banquettes and tables set with tall, throne like burgundy chairs. Menus, proffered by formally dressed waiters (note to gentlemen: jackets required), are bound in cream-colored kid leather.

Speaking of which, no sooner had I opened my menu this past weekend when captain Michelangelo Serratore, an old-school gentleman with impeccable manners, noticed a water splotch on one of the pages I was reading. “I’m so terribly sorry about this, sir,” he said, pulling the menu away. “I’m horrified,” he continued, placing a new one in front of me. Clearly, Mr. Serratore sets the pace for his entire staff of waiters, all of whom were omnipresent throughout our meal but remarkably quiet and efficient.

Alto, owned by the same team behind L’Impero in Tudor City, has its sights set high. The restaurant’s name is a reference both to alta cucina – Italian for haute cuisine – and to the Alto Adige, the northern territory of Italy that borders Austria, often referred to as the Alsace of Italy. When I visited this region a few years ago, I was astounded to discover the Austro-Hungarian influence on otherwise familiar Italian fare, with dill, coriander, caraway seeds, horseradish, and mustard seeds making their way into everything from risotto to krauti – yes, Italian sauerkraut. This influence is also present at Alto, which means you’ll probably be surprised if you expect a typical Italian place.

Chef Conant’s menu, which is executed by chef de cuisine Kevin Sippel (most recently of L’Impero and formerly of La Caravelle) when Mr. Conant is at L’Impero, is offered in two price packages: a fixed seven-course seasonal chef’s tasting menu for $115 or four courses off the regular menu for $72, which includes a starter, pasta, main course, and dessert. An additional cheese course can be added, $9 for one piece, $12 for two.

We chose to order four courses from the regular menu. A variation of a popular favorite from L’Impero was the first plate to hit the table: creamy polenta crowned with a rich fricassee of chanterelle mushrooms, white asparagus, braised lumache (snails), and black truffles. Despite its wintry heartiness, the dish was surprisingly – and amazingly – light and satisfying. The sweetness of a beautiful slab of smoked ocean trout was cut brilliantly with a splash of horseradish froth. Shavings of shad roe bottarga and bits of guanciale (cured pig jowl) gave a similar jolt to a mound of briny-sweet lobster whose temperature bordered on crudo. It was fabulous, but was paired with a demitasse cup of strange-but-striking squid-ink “cappuccino” that tasted like the very bottom of the sea. Foie gras, cooked sotto vuoto (meaning poached in Cryovac) and served in tiny roulades, was paired brilliantly with a spicy tomato mostarda and sweet-and-sour figs cooked in wine and balsamic vinegar.

Pastas looked familiar in form but were plated far more fancifully than you’d expect. Potato-spinach strangolopreti, similar to gnocchi and perfectly cloudlike, were spread out rather spaciously on a long plate, each dumpling dotted with a shaving of cured rabbit and parmigiano cheese. Trenette, similar to linguine, were finished beautifully in a seafood medley of spot prawns and mussels, and kissed with a powerful sea urchin froth. Cappellacci, half-moon pillows stuffed with rich, marrowy oxtail, were bathed in a rich brown butter sauce spiked with horseradish. The oddest-sounding plate of the lot, however, turned out to be the most impressive: risotto made with mustard seeds. The juxtaposition between the creamy toothsomeness of the rice and the crunchy spice of the seeds was a first (at least for me), but it worked beautifully.

A gorgeously caramelized wedge of Japanese sea bass, rendered crispy outside, moist within, came with Brussels sprouts poached in butter until they tasted like candied cabbage. Tender pieces of pork jowl, also cooked sotto vuoto, sat alongside slices of delicately roasted loin, both of which were excellent. Accompanying them were schupfnudeln, sort of like potsticker dumplings, stuffed with a creamy puree of potatoes and caramelized cabbage. Braised beef cheek and slow-roasted sirloin, both deeply flavorful, took on even more depth once passed through a slick of smoked eggplant puree. The most profound and bold of them all, however, was the roasted rack of lamb with braised pancetta, dressed with reduced vinegar and served with bitter radicchio Trevisano and earthy wild spinach.

Pastry chef Patti Jackson, who made a name for herself at Pino Luongo’s Mad 61, Tuscan Square, and Le Madri, weaves Viennese flourishes into her Italian repertoire beautifully. A mouthwatering sour cherry crostata came with black pepper gelato and a tawny Port gelee. The peach strudel was classic, paired with vanilla custard and fresh blueberries. A chocolate “marquesa” was as light as a feather but given weight by way of roasted figs, candied fennel, and zabaglione cream. And a steamed Tyrolean chocolate pudding with creme fraiche was as rich and delicious as it sounds.

Lastly, a word about the excellent wine list, which was compiled by managing partner Chris Cannon and sommelier Eric Zillier. Mr. Cannon, who also oversees the brilliant wine program at L’Impero, has managed to find an amazing number of hard-to-find to downright unknown wines from the Alto Adige. Mr. Zillier, formerly of Veritas and therefore no stranger to fine wine service, is a consummate pro. Wines by the glass range from a refreshing Mueller-Thurgau priced at $9 to a powerful Barolo Vigneti Solanotto for $25.

Alto, 520 Madison Ave. (entrance on 53rd Street), 212-308-1099.