Polpo

A couple of weeks ago I took my dad to see The Book of Mormon. It was actually my anniversary present to S but we're sadly no longer together so I roped in the other man in my life to join me for some seriously brilliant satire. But, first came food and when Dad suggested Italian for lunch, I knew we had to head to Polpo in Beak Street. Part of Russell Norman's Spuntino, Mishkin's, Ape & Bird family, the Polpo and Polpetto restaurants dotted around town are Italian/Venetian dining at their best and I have been dying to try them since forever.

It was a beautiful day and we managed to grab the last two lunch seats on one of the high benches they have by the window with perfect people-watching opportunities and an excellent view of the bar. I started with an Aperol Spritz (channelling last year's holiday and my upcoming trip to Italy in the next couple of weeks) which was deliciously bitter and sweet, with juicy brined olives adding that extra bit of bite. Dad had a carafe (250ml) of house red which at £11 was a little pricy for lunch but pouring it in to small water tumblers made it last longer in the end, so no love lost there.

Eating Venetian at lunch is simple with the cicchetti approach - small tapas like plates that arrive whenever they're ready and you can dip into and share. We started with the warm, salty anchovy-stuffed fried olives that I fell in love with in Venice and quickly converted Dad to before the octopus and fennel carpaccio arrived. This completely turned Dad off but I wolfed this down with hunger as the meaty cephalopod was lifted by the sweeter, fresher fennel. A distinctive tasting dish, this was a nice twist on an old favourite of mine but I would have liked a little bit of lemon or seasoning on the top.

Next came the coppa, pepperonata and goats cheese bruschetta - lightly toasted but thickly loaded with toppings, this was a simple and effortless dish that instantly transported me to Italy. A classic, the combination of the salty meat, tangy cheese and sweet pepperonata is much-loved for a reason and although basic, definitely effective. 

We also had the bresaola and rocket pizzette - a thin and crispy bread base that shattered into scoopable pieces when attacked with the knife - and the meatballs 'alla Vedova'. Having visited the Ca D'Oro alla Vedova bacaro in Venice when I went a few years ago, I urged Dad to try the famous polpette that gondoliers and tourists alike come flocking for (and which were originally recommended to me by a former flame of the restaurant owner). Three large pork meatballs, breaded and fried, arrived at the table and were quickly devoured. First bites are deceiving as you almost feel you need a sauce but the seasoned meat itself is enough on second, third and fourth bite, and you can see why these are so popular. (Fun fact: when I first had these, I filled up on two of them and my previous ex had to eat both his dishes and mine of the ensuing three course meal. Well done, Becks.)

At this point we declared no more and rolled ourselves out on to the street, having been perfectly accommodated in our short window of an hour, despite a full restaurant. I'm so glad I finally made it to Polpo as it lived up to its huge reputation and I can't wait to go back during the evening for a lazy, lengthy languish. Four and a half out of five.

Tozi

My knowledge of Victoria extends to the station, the walk towards Sloane Square and little else. It's not a part of town I usually frequent but when Italian restaurant, Tozi, invited me down I knew it was time for the journey.

Tucked down a side street, Tozi is a sprawling yet bustling restaurant and bar serving up cicchetti - Venetian small plates that you could compare to tapas. Food service is split between two open kitchens; one focuses on the grilled, baked and wood oven offerings on the menu whilst the other rustles up the counter and salad plates. We went on a Thursday night and the atmosphere was buzzing with couples on dates, groups of girls catching up and post-work diners yet service was impeccable, with friendly waiters and waitresses unobtrusively bringing each dish to the table as soon as it was ready.

We were tempted by the cocktails - a combination of classics and house favourites - but reached straight for the Italian-only wine list. Ever since a trip to the region last year, I eagerly seek out Puglian wines on menus and Tozi didn't disappoint with a lovely bottle of Nero di Troia. 

We then moved onto the food, and after a few recommendations from our host, chose eight plates to share. There are larger dishes on the menu (lobster linguine, braised osso bucco, ribs of beef) but after filling up on the focaccia (slightly dry) and moreish olive oil and balsamic syrup, we stuck to our guns and stayed sensible.

First up, the wild boar salsiccia. Melt in the mouth smooth with fennel and star anise running through, I could happily eat this by the fistful. Thankfully for my dining companion, I was more restrained but he did give me the last slice. Accompanying this was the burrata (another thing I always order if it's on the menu) which came deliciously creamy and with just enough give. Served with heritage tomatoes, a grind of salt and pepper brought the flavours to life.

Next up, piadina with parma ham, stracchino and rocket and tuna tartare with lots of fresh lime. Arriving at the same time, these dishes couldn't have been more different from each other but they worked so well - the classic Italian flavours of meat and cheese were complemented by the zingy freshness of the fish. S, who's never been tempted by tuna tartare before, is now a total convert and I scraped the bowl for the last morsels.

Then came the pasta. Difficult to photograph but hugely easy to eat and almost demand more of. The buffalo ricotta ravioli with black truffle was criminally smooth, rich and buttery - simple enough ingredients but cooked so well we were lost in mutual appreciation for quite some time. The wild mushroom cannelloni was pleasingly earthy with the flavours of the fungi coming through the creamy, cheesy sauce. The pasta, homemade of course, was cooked brilliantly and finished off al forno naturally.

Our last two dishes were the gratinated scallop, Venetian style, and the ox cheeks. The scallop was cooked just right and topped with a crisp crust and a swirl of salsa verde. S wasn't so keen on the green but I liked the added flavour that offset the meat of the fish and the toasted crumb. The braised ox cheeks with girolles and red wine sauce was his clear winner - the meat was deliciously soft and melted right off the tongue. The red wine sauce was more of a jus, balancing the creaminess of the mash potatoes with just enough richness to bring the whole dish together in what was probably S's plate of the night.

At this point we realised we'd definitely made the right decision to not order a further mountain of food. There was just enough room for dessert though. S had the chocolate and amaretto bonet - a typical dessert from Piedmont that's made in a similar way to a creme caramel. Accompanied by a boozy sauce, cream and crumbled amaretti, this was almost the last hoorah. I could just about manage the affogato - simple but effective and just enough to keep me awake for the taxi schlep home east.

I'll admit that my expectations of Tozi were mixed before I visited as the website seriously underplays how good this place is. From the modern interior, friendly staff and excellent food, Tozi is a real find and I'll definitely be making the journey all the way over to Victoria just for this place again and again and again. Five out of five.

21 Covent Garden

I thought I'd heard good things about 21, in Covent Garden. I'd heard stories of an impeccable dining experience that put other restaurants to shame. Where I'd heard these rumours from I don't know because that certainly wasn't what we experienced on Saturday.

I'd booked a table believing a warm Saturday lunchtime to be prime for a place with such good reviews, but needn't have bothered. Whilst the Terrace out on the piazza was brimming with diners, we were pointed downstairs to the rather empty and tired-looking restaurant for our table.

That was fit for one, not two. Next to a brick wall. After being unceremoniously moved, we were given the rather concise wine list. With only two roses on the list - one sweet and the other too old a vintage to be worth drinking - we were pushed to the whites and chose a trusty bottle of Pinot Grigio. Which came out warm. Attempts to switch it for a cold bottle were futile but we were given a cooler filled with ice which helped bring down more than one temperature.

Moving on, it was time to browse the menu and we decided to make the most of the sharing plates on offer. And here is where 21 started to redeem itself. We started with the trio of crostini: vine plum, tomato and basil which had the right amount of citrusy/vinegary zing to bring the flavours to life; beetroot cured salmon with horseradish cream and pink peppercorn that was perfectly balanced and hugely moreish; and the goat's cheese and parma ham with fig, the classic combination of sweet, salt and tang which I could happily eat over and over. We also chose the seabass fillet which came served on a mountain of 'bronzed fennel caponata'. Despite it tasting more like ratatouille, the caponata was a strong accompaniment to the brilliantly cooked fish and very reasonable at £6.95 for a portion that most would serve as a main. We rounded off our starters with the fried baby squid with saffron aioli - dainty and thankfully crisp (not chewy), these were lovely and my only complaint is that there wasn't more of them!

For mains, we decided on the antipasto platter, still dreaming of our time in Puglia. Served on a board, there was a selection of salami (crudo, parma, bresaola and milano), cheese (goat's, comte, blue and a soft), bread (flatbread, a stale white baguette and some juicy foccacia) and a handful of grapes that may or may not have had a few missing from a previous nibbler. Nevertheless, we consumed the lot.



So the food itself was mostly great, but the rest of the 21 experience left a lot to be desired. Seated near the kitchen (in the empty restaurant) we did see lots of kitchen hands carrying large sauce tubs past our table, there were only salt and pepper shakers and not grinders (a huge bugbear of mine) on the table, and there was little atmosphere to speak of, which was a shame given we were in the heart of Covent Garden.

The website talks of an 'Italian' experience complete with the terrace in the piazza and another bar in the building but I don't think I'll be going back to experience either. With a glut of great restaurants in London, this one just doesn't make the cut. Two and a half out of five, if I'm being generous.

Italy: where we ate

Terrazza Goffredo

The night we arrived in Conversano, our hotel had booked us into the gorgeous little rooftop restaurant for an introduction into Italian (and Apulian) cuisine. Having spent most of the afternoon travelling and learning to drive on the wrong (right) side of the road, we were in need of some Italian hospitality and boy, were we not disappointed. Over a romantic, candlelit table for two (mum and I), plate upon plate of ridiculously amazing food was set in front of us and we ended up so full I could barely shuffle back to the room afterwards.

They kicked off the fare with two platters of typical Puglian appetisers. On one, a gorgeous swordfish ceviche with tangy fresh lime juice and tart red peppercorns; a pearl barley and cucumber salad; and a fresh seafood salad of prawns and octopus served in a clamshell and squeezed with lemon. The second, deep fried courgette flowers; a cheese souffle; and aubergine stuffed with minced pork and vinegary slices of red onion, all drizzled with local balsamic vinegar. Following this, in typical Italian form, was a primi of pasta - handmade orrecchiette pasta in a fresh tomato sauce made with the tastiest olive oil - small bites stuffed with softly roasted warming cherry tomatoes. Then for the secondi, we had grilled sea bream instead of the veal and after that, vanilla pannacotta with tangy blackberries and fruit coulis.

We coupled this with a dry Apulian red and lashings of self-congratulation. And a reduced appetite for the rest of the holiday.

Taverna dei Duellanti

We discovered this little place whilst making like the locals and 'promenading' late at night. It was belting out some great funk music and people were pulling up as many chairs to tables as they could, with kids scattering around as their parents sat back and ordered more wine, more food, more everything. There was a very limited pizza menu and I went for the pizza with crudo, stracciatella and lemon but I could have chosen everything on it, the toppings and flavour combinations were to die for. The light and creamy coolness of the cheese mixed with the salty meat and the citrus tang teamed up to make the best pizza I've ever tasted. Finished off with a shot of limoncello, this was one achingly understated but perfect little late night meal.

Osteria del Porto

One thing that we'd been craving whilst in Italy was fish. The Adriatic Sea was constantly within our eyeline yet we were surprised that, despite being only a few kilometres from the coast, restaurants serving fish in Conversano were a little thin on the ground. When we moved hotels on my birthday and were even closer to the coast, we knew we had to do something about it and after a quick bit of Trip Advisor searching, I chose the Osteria del Porto in Savelletri for my birthday meal. We managed to book a table and a taxi to take us down and were greeted by a little nautical-themed, harbourside restaurant teeming with local customers and really friendly staff. We ordered a bottle of Verdeca (a sparkling Apulian white that we'd learnt about during a casual bit of wine tasting) and decided to forgo the four course tradition with some cleverly chosen dishes instead.

Mum went for the classic Caprese - fresh twists of mozzarella, tomatoes, basil and olive oil with grilled bread to mop it all up with - whilst I started with the plate of bresaola and grana padano cheese. We then had to have the gamberetti al brace (grilled king prawns) that came in a steaming buttery bowl of garlic, chilli and fresh herbs. Searingly hot to tear into it, they were the sweetest prawns I've tasted in a very long time and we eagerly mopped up every last morsel, sad to see the end of them. So sad, that I ordered another portion just because you don't turn 25 in Italy with prawns every day, right? After that, we each ordered tartufos (pistachio for mum, chocolate/amaretto for me) and a shot of Disaronno each, as the waiters buzzed around us with whole fish baked in salt and live lobsters. Much to my embarrassment, Mum told them it was my birthday so they very sweetly brought out an amaretti ice cream with 'happy birthday' looped around the edge. Thankfully there was no singing but we were very sad to leave what was one of the best meals of the holiday behind. 

Franco Manca

Stop right there. I've found the best pizza in London. And it's right on Tottenham Court Road.

My friend Harry used to rave about this place, urging me to venture South of the river to Brixton to give it a go. I never got round to it but my ears pricked up when I heard that they were opening one in my part of town, right in the heart of London. Not your usual takeaway affair, Franco Manca is all about the slow-rising sourdough which is then baked in a 'trufae' brick oven until perfectly crisp. Then the freshest of toppings are scattered on top and you're ready to dive right in.

I went with work on the rainiest of Thursday nights. Predictably at places with a no booking policy, there was a queue but we managed to get drinks in while we were waiting and the promised 30 minutes of wait time was actually only half that. Inside, it's heaving and buzzy with a great view right into the open kitchen in the middle of the room.

Start with some of their 'bites' - the fresh burrata is my complete weakness and to die for here - and resist the urge to consume your bodyweight in appetisers before the main event. The pizza menu's short but sweet with about seven to choose from, as well as a vegetarian and meat special chalked up on the board. The boys went for the one with Gloucester Old Spot ham, mozzarella, ricotta and wild mushrooms which they wolfed down in record time. I chose the Meat Special which came with prosciutto, parmesan shavings and fresh rocket, and although they forgot my request for added artichokes was the best pizza I've ever eaten. The flavours here are delicate and well thought out with portions big enough for even the heartiest of appetites, and that sourdough? Perfect. Just watch out for the chilli oil which is deceptively hot.

Faced with the prospect of dessert, who could refuse? There's chocolate cake and lemon tart on offer but the star of the show has to be the simple but tart lemon sorbet that comes with a shot of Limoncello to pour over it. The perfect little palate cleanser and not too abusive on the waistline either.

This place is a hot ticket so be prepared to queue but it is worth it. The food's unbelievably affordable and they have a couple of other spots (they're even in Westfield) so there's no excuse not to get your pizza on. Healthy January? Who cares when pizza's this good?

Photo by Bears Bites