one of the best things about living in a big city is when you stumble across a piece of “neighbourhood”. a place that feels like it belongs at the heart of a small community, rather than a massive impersonal concrete jungle. it’s one of the little wonders that stand in such stark contrast to the rest of the everyday humdrum.

last night we went out with kerryn and tracey for a pre-christmas christmas dinner, since they leave in a few days for their ski holiday. we had a tough time deciding where to go, because around this time of year everything popular is jam-packed. in the end we decided to meet at a local little italian restaurant, just up the street from where we used to live in tooting broadway. a work colleague of mine lives in that direction as well, and had mentioned this place to me several times as a nearby hangout, where everyone knows the owners, and during new year’s eve the restaurant stays open all night for the regulars to party. for some reason, in spite of her recommendation, we never quite made it there in the 2 years we lived at our old flat.

and it was definitely our loss. when we sat down last night, the owner (an old world effusive little italian patriach) embraced me from behind and kissed my head, exclaiming, “bella!!” what better start to the evening can there be? we had a lovely bottle of prosecco to get in the festive spirit, and the food was to die for. it was nothing fancy or overly complicated – just some antipasti, pizzas and pastas (the best puttanesca sauce i’ve had in a long time), and an exquisite round of tiramisu and gelati. simple food done extremely well. the service was informal without being lazy or inattentive – italian phrases called round to the rest of the working famiglia, welcoming hugs for old faces, and enthusiasm for new customers which was genuine and unforced. extra loud choruses for someone’s birthday. granddad behind the bar working the cappucino machine. complimentary limoncellos to accompany our desserts. a surprisingly small bill at the end of the evening, and wishes for a merry christmas floating after us as we parted.

j and i walked home to digest, and could not stop talking about it. so often in london, it’s all too easy to leave a restaurant or bar feeling far poorer for the experience rather than richer. to find fault with the service or food or value. i can’t recall the last time i felt truly valued as a patron, rather than just a walking wallet. so when you find yourself basking in the afterglow of a good meal, and a warmhearted feeling that lasts long after the limoncellos have worn off, it’s a lovely reminder of the gems that do exist in the nooks and crannies of this city, if only you make the effort to find them.

and then keep them to yourself, so as not to spoil the secret.

Like this post

Unlike