bocca di lupo

A short while ago I went out for a birthday night and awoke the next morning to discover that I had lost my phone. When I called it, a girl in Clapham answered and it emerged that the phone must have fallen out of my pocket in a taxi, she had picked it up and taken it home. We arranged to meet that afternoon , which whilst being a hassle, also held an element of intrigue. What if this led somewhere…

It felt like the start of a movie.

An hour before I called to say that I would be on time. Having never been in this type of situation, I believed this to be etiquette. The girl was still on for 2pm and apologised because she had answered a call, believing it to be me. It was a restaurant confirming a table for two that night, so that was still on. She then asked whether I was taking her out as a thank you gesture?

Thank God it was, and no. I had got my hopes up for nothing.

After all this I had just about enough time for a much needed nap before throwing on a shirt and making my way to meet my actual date in Soho at an Italian restaurant called Bocca di Lupo, for one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time.

Translating from Italian as ‘mouth of the wolf’, Bocca di Lupo is perhaps the best, most exciting restaurant name I’ve ever come across. The menu is, in a word, stunning.

Most items are available in two sizes: £ small and £ large, and to emphasise that what’s on offer is ‘Italian regional cuisine’, the origin of each dish is also listed. Paying half the price for half the portion, with the potential to order twice as many items is a brilliant concept, especially when applied to a menu as good as this. However, having already developed a crush on the menu, it was hard to narrow the order down to a sensible number, even with the option of being able to opt for a selection of smaller versions.

The service was ok. After seeking advice from the sommelier we ordered a bottle of perfectly good Montepulciano and our waiter brought us over some gorgeous bread, with a very nice olive oil and no balsamic. The accompanying olives were exceptional, even the big green ones.

From where we sat in the main dining area, we had a view of the sleek and sexy marble-topped bar next to the kitchen, where other diners sat watching the chefs work their magic. The space in which we ate was nice and it was a pleasant place to talk whilst waiting for our meal. Having booked our table a month in advance, I was more than ready for it.

To start, we delved into a fantastic radish, celeriac and pecorino salad, with pomegranate and truffle oil, which was pretty and tasted so. Slithers of lamb prosciutto were even prettier, arriving on a wooden board that exuded both rusticity and elegance. The intricacy of flavour of the lamb was divine. Cresentini with finocchinona, speck and squacquerone cheese was how a toasted ham and cheese sandwich would be if it had been given a high fashion makeover.

Quite simply, all were the perfect overture to our next wave of dishes. These were the heartier choices – veal and pork agnolotti with a light meat sauce (which we should have ordered in the large version), a stew of wind-dried cod, served with what I’m sure was a piece of swordfish, and finally, the rustic pork and foie-gras sausage, with farro and porcini (which we obviously did order as a large version).

I could have eaten the pasta all night, and it was genuinely heartbreaking that we had opted for the small version. The stew was lovely, and serving it with another type of fish was a nice touch – like having a cocktail where the mixer is another spirit. Although, as expected, it was the sausage that was the highlight – juicy, meaty and flavorsome, with the bold porcini and farro backing up it’s rustic namesake. I have it on good authority that the wet polenta with sausage and pork ribs, which features on the lunch menu is also out of this world.

A quick glance at the desserts menu revealed a pudding called Sanguinaccio – a sweet pate of pig’s blood and chocolate. Of course I needed to order that.

It was so good it gave me a nosebleed.

The (what was essentially) pig’s blood nutella was wicked, but our other choice, the brioche sandwich of hazelnut, pistachio and chestnut gelati was one the best dessert I’ve even had the pleasure of eating. The accompanying dessert wine we asked the sommelier to pick for us was also heavenly.

I’m sure the espresso was very nice, but unfortunately it was cold by the time my nose had stopped bleeding. I would have liked a grappa, but we forgot.

Overall, a delight – plus one of the chefs was sexier than the menu. I wish she had found my phone.

Bocca di Lupo

12 Archer Street, W1D 7BB | 0207734 2223 | www.boccadilupo.com

Overall:

Visionary