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CIAO BELLA, BLOOMSBURY
If your idea of an exemplary Italian restaurant is one where they pour you a post-pudding shot glass of limoncello – then leave the bottle on the table for you to keep refilling whenever you like – Ciao Bella will be up your street. A family run place that’s been feeding Bloomsbury locals since the 80s, its charm lies in its simplicity. They only take bookings over the phone, the menu is familiar and the portions are enormous. My plate of penne amatriciana could have fed three, but I’d just been at a pal’s birthday drinks in Soho and taken the lovely, museum-laden walk up from Dean Street to Lamb’s Conduit Street, so I was hungry enough to take it on. We also laughed when the significant slab of tiramisu that my other half ordered landed on the table.
You don’t go to Ciao Bella for the best food of your life. You go for fun – for the piano player tucked into the corner, the kids’ ice-cream served in a plastic bear-shaped toy (which I took home to fill with ice-cream in next time my nephews visit) and for the sense that these things have happened (and will happen) forever. Around us there were multi-generation families, what appeared to be a first date, and a large group of friends who piled in after a day at Royal Ascot if their many and varied hats were anything to go by. Earlier that day, there’d been the annual Bloomsbury Waiters Race, where bartenders from the likes of Noble Rot, Honey & Co and Ciao Bella run down the street holding trays of champagne (congrats to winner Ryan of Noble Rot). The mood was buoyant. For your own jolly evening, chuck a pre-dinner pint at the Lamb next door into the mix – and order that kids’ ice-cream.
OSTERIA VIBRATO, SOHO
Charlie Mellor’s new Soho Italian is a much slicker affair than Ciao Bella. I adore them both. I wrote about my fun lunch at Osteria Vibrato briefly last month when I spoke about a ‘crystal ball moment’ after a sommelier brought over a Tide pen when he spotted splatters of red sauce on my friend’s shirt. But I loved my lunch here so much, it deserves to be expanded on. I like to kick things off with a martini and Osteria Vibrato’s are fun: served in chic, stubby glasses and poured from a height for an opening flourish. You’ll get a similar experience with the restaurant’s collection of olive oil. They pride themselves on their selection and most of the dishes will be finished with a theatrical drizzle of whichever bottle they think works best with the ingredients – and they’ll briefly talk you through them with as much care as they do the wines.
As well as tremendous food – the 30-month aged parmesan risotto made me so happy, as did a wonderful caponata to start with – the details here impress. When it launched on Valentine’s Day this year, Charlie sourced vintage Italian workwear, suits and ties for his waiters. The idea was that they could be mixed and matched, but – naturally – everyone has picked their favourite pieces and claimed them. I don’t blame them: someone was wearing a vintage silk tie covered in olives and I wouldn’t want to part with it either. The decor throughout, even in the loos, mixes brightness with classic old-school Italian touches such as pewter candleholders, walnut panelling and crisp white tablecloths. The menus are written in English and Italian. And – like Ciao Bella – there’s a piano. Our sommelier Harry went from telling us about our glass of white to playing a tune in seconds. I can’t wait to go back one evening.
VESPER, CLERKENWELL
I love Jackson Boxer’s considered approach. I’ve interviewed him several times over the years and I’m always struck by how much he cares about creating a democratic restaurant and pulling together a menu full of things that people really want to eat. I worked in Vauxhall when Jackson had recently opened Brunswick House in an antiques shop off the big roundabout there. If we were lucky, the editorial team would get a the-mag’s-finally-gone-to-print long lunch there. But, more often than that, I’d pop in for a negroni and sandwich after work. Since then, I’ve rated his food at Dove in Notting Hill and in the Cotswolds at Cowley Manor Experimental. But Exmouth Market, where his newest restaurant sits, feels the most him.
Strolling down Exmouth Market to reach Vesper last Thursday night felt like being abroad. It was pleasantly hot and the whole street was heaving with people clutching glasses or dining outside. To revel in this atmosphere, we opted to sit at one of the tables on the pavement, stealing glimpses into Jermaine Gallacher’s steel interiors through the huge glass windows (the decor is gorgeous – even the backs of the loo doors are painted with joyful scenes). The food was even better than I dared hope. First, some homemade salt-and-vinegar crisps, served with a french onion and trout dip. They were the ideal foil to a vesper martini. I spoke about the melon and chilli oil dish last week (so good it inspired me to buy a galia melon the next day). The chicken liver agnolotti burst with moreish richness, tempered by the madeira jus it swam in. The grilled prawns came in an addictive fenugreek and black lime butter. And I loved scraping the chewy bits off the bottom of the pan of the baked saffron crab-fat rice dish. A toasted rum canelé (essentially a sticky toffee pudding) and a glass of green chartreuse saw us off before we made our way back to Brighton. Arthur, who was looking after us, told us we’d ordered so well he wanted to come and join us at the table. I can’t think of higher praise.
SINGBURI, SHOREDITCH
Singburi is better than ever. When the much-loved Leytonstone local moved to Shoreditch a year ago, I enjoyed my meal, but the restaurant felt like it had arrived in the glass development of Montacute Yards too early. Looking outside from one of the restaurant’s brightly coloured tables, the area felt a little soulless. Since then, Nieves Barragán Mohacho’s Legado has opened next door and everything generally feels livelier. At Singburi’s first birthday party the other week, I was blown away by the food (literally in some cases – the kitchen is not afraid of chilli and spice), so much so that I’m gearing up for round three.
Dining mid-heatwave, I cooled down immediately thanks to the best watermelon salad I’ve ever had: this one a combo of perfectly pink watermelon and sour blackberries tossed in pla ra (fermented fish seasoning), mint and chilli and crowned with ‘prawn floss’. Our table of four then devoured a plate of sticky moo krob pad krapao (Thai crispy pork belly). The moo ping pork skewers melted in the mouth. And the curried egg and crab tasted like the world’s best omelette. It was the ideal dish to dip into between bites of the incredible Isaan duck larb, which had us sweating more than the 32ºC heat outside. Thankfully, cucumber sours are on the menu this summer to tame your tongue.
THE DREAMERY, DE BEAUVOIR
Wine and ice-cream. It’s such a simple concept, you wonder why more places aren’t pairing them up like The Dreamery is in De Beauvoir. I wouldn’t usually trek to this neck of the woods for a scoop of ice-cream, but fashion house Loewe has taken over the site until the end of this month, serving a pistachio gelato in honour of its new pistachio scented candle. I’d just got off a hot, seven-hour train journey from north Wales on the day of its launch party, and a paper cup of ice-cream and glass of chilled white wine was just the tonic I was dreaming of as the train crawled into Euston station.
The party was fun: you could tell who’d been invited by Loewe and who – like me – works in food and drink. Guests spilled out onto the pavement with their scoops and clustered around the bar to admire the signature wine glasses, which are adorned with a painted smiling crescent moon eating an ice-cream. I wonder how many of these go missing each night? The glasses match The Dreamery’s much-Instagrammed ceiling, which is covered in a backlit mural by Lucy Stein, featuring a sun, ice-cream cones, a huge pair of eyes and a menagerie of creatures. The place is open until 10pm most nights and if I was a local, I’d be in there regularly. Its sister spot, Goodbye Horses, is just over the road. I’ve just realised this week that one of my oldest friends works around the corner, so I imagine it won’t be long until I’m back in De Beauvoir after all.
If you need any more restaurant recommendations, here’s a handful of previous Tastemakers to whet your appetite…
Coming soon on Crisp Packet: news and newness surrounding my upcoming one-year Substack anniversary, some top Madrid recommendations, plus August’s edition of The Multipack.
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