After British classics like fry-ups, roast dinners and fish and chips, there’s a “big three” when it comes to British dining out: Italian, Indian and Chinese. There’s a representative for each one in every town in Britain and in every neighbourhood in London. Some are awful. Many aren’t.
When it comes to the Italian side of things, London’s ties go back a long way. For decades the capital has been home to delis and osterias, trattorias and ristorantes. It’s hard to spend a better £10 than in delis such as Terroni in Clerkenwell, Italia Uno in Fitzrovia or Bar Italia in Soho. All will bring you a mighty sandwich — ciabatta usually — good espresso or a jovial spritz. Why anyone ever goes to Pret outside a train station is one of life’s great mysteries.
Those who require a proper lunch or dinner, these are 10 of London’s greatest old school Italian restaurants.
The Garden
There is a cafe and deli on the island of Ischia, off the coast of Napoli, which I think might be the inspiration behind Il Giardino, one of Peckham’s most joyful restaurants. Like Ischia’s Serpico Specialit, Il Giardino is beautiful: outside, it’s a soft mustard yellow, with green shutters and a green and white awning that hangs stiffly over a few alfresco tables. Inside, it’s a riot of old pine — the soft, curved kind that smells a bit like the back room of a church — paper napkins and dim lighting. There’s exposed brick, stumpy thick wine glasses waiting for inoffensive house wine, and a dainty little bar that should, really, only ever be manned by a small old man called Mario who is waiting to steal your wife. Nothing has changed since 1987, I’m sure, including the food. Don’t deviate from one of the pasta dishes, most of which are softened by a fair amount of cream. There’s spaghetti with garlic, chilli and mussels; penne with smoked bacon and a snappy tomato sauce; or, my favourite — a perfect representation of Italian-British cooking in London — the tagliatelle with chicken, ham, peas, and a little chilli. One more thing: Il Giardino remains wonderfully cheap. Everything is well under £20, trout and roast lamb included.
Ciao Bella is interesting because it’s transcended being a local, neighbourhood restaurant and has become a relatively famous London one. It’s a destination, a place for which people travel across town. Why? Here since 1983 and under the stewardship of Felice Pollano since 1999, it’s probably the best of old-school Italian kitsch: pictures of film stars on the walls, flimsy blue tablecloths, smart waiters and that sugary sort of charm. But it might also be the location in haughty Bloomsbury — to that end it’s a little glitzier than most. Obviously, the place isn’t really about the food — in fact, it’s definitely not about the food — though something should be said about the portion sizes, ever-commendable. Stick to the Italian-British classics like tagliatelle with salmon, spaghetti and meatballs and grilled sea bass, and prepare to be unadventurous with wine — a bottle of Gavi for £36 is okay. Ciao Bella is a little more expensive these days — popularity partly the cause, most likely — but it’s still a magical restaurant, a London institution all should experience at least once.
Splash
A Chelsea haunt since 1966, La Famiglia brands itself as an authentic Tuscan restaurant, one that’s about family, tradition, and dishes like mozzarella in carrozza (and the version here might be the best example of the dish in London). It was founded by Alvaro Maccioni who, though his name is little known as he never did much in the way of TV work, was hugely respected among the Italian chefs who helped to transform Britain’s dining landscape in the 1960s. Though Maccioni died in 2013, the restaurant lives on in much the same guise as it always has. Price-wise, it’s up there: bowls of vongole are £30 now; vitello tonnato is £23. Still, these practised dishes are solid, nostalgic, and the service well formed for its Chelsea clientele, which often includes a celebrity or two — like Mick Jagger, but also Kate Moss, Eric Clapton, Michael Caine. Tony Bennett too, once upon a time. Go for a special occasion.
O’Sole Mio
Get your big pepper grinder out. Or allow one of the smiling waiters at O’Sole Mio to do so. Here is a vehemently old guard sort of trattoria, one that’s existed in Pimlico, a transitory place full of spies and male sex workers, for well over 40 years. It’s difficult to think anyone would stumble upon O’Sole Mio (unless you were on your way to Grumbles, maybe). Who other than residents ever walk past it, I wonder? It used to be my local. The best thing about it is the atmosphere, which is full of energy and wit, and the gaudy Tuscan motifs — there’s a painting of a lemon tree in an enormous terracotta pot. Happily, O’Sole Mio is a vanguard in keeping balsamic glaze alive, also the sprinkling of cayenne pepper and finely chopped parsley on the side of curling white, thick-rimmed plates. So much joy here, so much affection. Were it not for these contributing factors, the caprese salad, bruschetta and cream-lubed pastas would be nothing but nonplussing, despite their egalitarian price points (only the fruit de mare tops the £20 mark, which if anything is quite a relief). But as it is, it works. Recommendations? Chefs still make their own pasta here — tagliatelle — but it’s only used for a select few dishes. Otherwise, the bolognese is good, so too the baked cannelloni of beef, mushrooms and tomatoes.
Giuseppe’s Place, Borough
Giuseppe’s Italian
Giuseppe’s
The best thing about Giuseppe’s Place is that it’s open until 4am. After about 10pm, the basement trattoria is cleared to become an Italian disco, glitterball and colourful lighting and all. And there, beneath the rumble of London Bridge, all manner of nonsense unfolds. But discover that for yourself after dinner. Speaking of which, the carbonara is a good shout — full of cream of course — while the likes of lobster ravioli, rigatoni amatriciana, and spaghetti “my way” (prawns, asparagus and cherry tomatoes in lashings of white wine and cream) are popular among regulars. Giuseppe’s might qualify as south London’s version of Bar Italia thanks to its red and green neon lighting, spirited vibes and slightly murky undertones, but it’s too new at 40 years old. Still, it’s a bastion of the old guard and also boasts a solid sandwich bar for takeaway on the ground floor. Anyone in need of a quick bite while changing trains should head there in lieu of Pret or Leon given it’s only a five minute walk from the station.
da maria
Da Maria is a stalwart of west London, serving affordable Italian classics since 1980. To many, it might appear like a true Neapolitan import, with floor to ceiling windows at the front, strip lighting of green and red, nicknacks about the place and bright, almost mad murals depicting triumphant scenes of boisterous living on the Amalfi coast. As far as the service goes, it might be the best of the lot — some diners might feel almost cosseted, but know that the affection is honest and the hospitality true. It’s a vital, warming trattoria, the sort that should be protected. Honestly, where else in London today might you order arancini for less than a fiver, or beef meatballs and roast potatoes for £12? The pasta is cooked with skill; the prosecco and primitivo flow.
vasco and piero
The tale of Vasco and Piero’s Pavilion is not an unlikely one. A bombastic fixture for 50 years on Poland Street in Soho — pictured above as it was — the place was forced to close during the pandemic owing to a dispute with the landlord, prompting significant backlash from storied diners who fondly remembered the wit of founder Vasco Matteucci and who wished to support his son Paul, then newly in charge. It moved soon after to a premises on D’Arblay Street and today the restaurant lives on. It’s quite high-end, Vasco and Piero’s, less balsamic glaze, more octopus carpaccio, freshly made tortellini and Tuscan sausages with pecorino and truffles from Umbria. White linen is perpetual, negronis by candlelight too. The restaurant upholds tradition majestically — it makes a point of it: “Same old, same old… but better. Tradition. We hate change.” Many would argue that this is exactly what Italian trattorias should be: relic-like, but with chefs who aren’t disaffected and can really cook.
Bagatti’s
Including Bagatti’s in this list might be a soft stretch in 2025. The food isn’t what it was, or wasn’t quite on the money when I last visited. But its place here holds fast because it’s a solid example of a true suburban neighbourhood Italian, one run by the same family since its conception (1990) and whose staff serves tables with a sort of luscious ebullience — everyone is genuinely pleased you’re there. Croydon can be a depressing place; in recent years people have tried and failed to bring it back to life. Restaurants such as Bagatti’s are flagpoles with flags ailing but still flying and that is something to be admired. Years ago, it was very much the place to be and you had to know the owners to get a last minute table. Now it is quieter. Order zucchini fritti, calamari and a lamb rack with roast peppers and you’ll leave content. It’s your best bet in south Croydon, anyway.
Trevi, Highbury and Islington
Trevi
Trevi in Highbury and Islington is old: there since 1962. It’s hard to imagine London then, when pasta was as likely to come in a tin as a bowl, the Beatles were still quite young and England were four years off winning the World Cup. What a time it must’ve been. It’s not hard to determine why Trevi opened where it did — Islington, like Waterloo and Clerkenwell, was where innumerable Italians settled in London post-war. Some would’ve visited for Roman classics like carbonara, liver with onions and red wine, and veal prepared in the Milanese way. Today dishes such as sea bass with olives, capers and lemon are as guarded, as well as gnocchi with pesto, seafood risotto and garlic bread. A north London favourite for a reason and still delightfully cheap (change from £20 sans wine).
Daniel Lynch
The claim that Il Portico is the oldest family run Italian restaurant in London could well be discounted by the venue above. The Chiavarinis, who hail from Emilia-Romagna in the north of Italy, opened the Kensington fixture in 1967. No matter if it isn’t the oldest; it’s among them and the food is incomparable. This isn’t just a historic trattoria, but home to some of the finest Italian cooking in town. Produce here is lauded, cared about, and much is shot by the current proprietor James, third generation and who looks over the restaurant as if a centurion on watch. This is a white linen tablecloth Italian, one for heady barolos, valpolicella and flavours of rabbit and wild boar; expect celebrity pricing. Menus change but will never disappoint: the most fortunate will visit and be met with dishes such as squid ink tagliolini with clams, roast bream and what might be the best osso buco outside Lombardy.