On that menu, aside from staggering prices (a £98 lasagne, lamb chops for £77, barely a bottle of wine under a ton), is New York-Italian food. But no one is coming here for the kitchen, which is best for everyone involved. The famous spicy rigatoni vodka, was, you know, fine. Lots of pepper and chilli, but otherwise a tomato sauce I think I last had with spaghetti hoops. The scallops rosmarino, a dish exclusive to London, were burly little things, sweet under a strip of lardo. There was some very fine tuna with breadcrumbs the size of gravel. Potato Louie — a side at £15 — was a gorgeous mess of garlic and duck fat. But lobster ravioli was characterless, and the veal masala had such an absence of flavour I momentarily wondered if Covid was back doing the rounds. I suspected the artichoke hearts were sent out as a threat. Still. There was a tremendously good martini, and a perfect Grasshopper for pudding, made on the spot with fresh mint.
#David #Ellis #Carbone #Food #point
