Tucked away in the heart of Soho, Bocca di Lupo is a restaurant that certainly has the buzz of a restaurant riding high. At the third time of asking I managed to get a table but even having booked a good month in advance I still had to make do with a seven o’clock reservation.
When we arrived — dead on the stroke of seven, the intimate and stylish yet unpretentious dining room already had an air of excitement about it. The long bar at the front of the restaurant (seemingly now a pre-requisite for any modern restaurant) was already fully occupied by punters enjoying pre-meal cocktails and the dining area was full of bustle and chatter.
British chef Jacob Kennedy, formerly of Moro, has struck a balance with an impressive menu that is as authentically Italian as it is cutting-edge and contemporary. The menu is divided into seven sections (Raw & cured; Fried; Pasta & risotto; soups and stews; grilled & pan-fried; roasts and sides) and all the dishes are listed by region. One has the option to either choose a section of ‘small’ plates to share — tapas style, or go down the more conventional starter/main route.
To kick us off my wife and I ordered starter sizes of rabbit and pearl barley orzotto (very much a risotto made not from risotto rice but orzo pasta) from the Piedmont region and busiate with pesto Trapanese from Sicily.
The orzotto was a simple yet perfectly executed dish — rich, creamy and satisfyingly springy to the bite made all the more dreamy by the deliciously rich slow cooked rabbit.
Maybe it was just the order in which we ate the two starters — rather like Jedward following Elvis if you can imagine such a thing — but the busiate was merely tubes of pasta that hadn’t been combined with the pesto. Maybe that’s how they do it Sicily but I would’ve liked the pasta coated in the sauce. It just seemed to lack punch and was sadly somewhat bland and underwhelming in comparison to the orzotto.
So a mixed start but we by no means deterred, a very tiny set-back that would not spoil the evening.
Next we decided to up the porcine anti and went for the roast suckling pig and chicory; the agnolotti — a pasta filled with pork and prosciutto in a cream and nutmeg sauce; rustic pork and foie gras sausage with farro & porcini. I know, in hindsight, it seems a bit ridiculous to have ordered so many pork-based dishes. We didn’t mean to it just kind of happened.
We also chose three vegetable side dishes to keep the scurvy at bay. I have to admit that I chose the Puntarelle (as it turns out a variety of chicory) with anchovy and lemon and the agretti — monksbeard (looks like grass, tastes like spinach) with butter and lemon purely because I had no idea what they were. They were both perfectly pleasant but hardly showstoppers. The blood orange, red onion and oregano salad on the other hand was beautiful. Such zingy, fresh flavours. Very moreish.
The suckling pig, although cooked to perfection was essentially a lump of pig on a plate. Don’t get me wrong, it was delicious but I felt there could have been more thought given to the presentation.
When it comes down to taste and flavour the rustic sausage ticked all the boxes but again when the dish was placed in front of us we were left thinking: is that it? When I’m lured in with the promise of such top-end ingredients like fois gras and porcini I expect to be blown away with what’s presented. Alas, what we were faced with was a rather sad looking sausage perched on something that looked very similar to the orzotto from the previous course.
The agnolotti, however, we both agreed was a triumph. Faultlessly made and cooked fresh pasta parcels filled with a can’t-go-wrong combination of flavours in a classic nutmeg sauce. Absolutely wonderful and everything you want Italian food to be.
Pretty full by now we contemplated dessert. My wife was beaten and so chickened out with a latte, I got my second wind and plumped for the bombe calde — freshly fried donuts with chocolate cream (try saying that without putting on a Homer Simpson voice).
When my dessert arrived I was confused because on the menu it definitely said donuts plural and on my plate was just one. However on looking again at the price column of the menu all was made clear — £5.00, each.
So, I quite enjoyed my chocolate filled donut but it was just that — a donut. Maybe I was wrong to expect anything more but once again I felt a little bit short-changed.
Although it’s positive thing to see a restaurant in the current financial climate that’s so busy and successful, it still grates with me when I’m reminded — no sooner than I’ve sat down — I have to vacate my table after two hours. Of course this isn’t a new ploy and Bocca di Lupo isn’t by any means the only restaurant that does this but I feel that if you’re paying at least £100 for two with wine you shouldn’t be rushed to finish your meal just so that they can get more bums on seats. There’s being business-minded and there’s being greedy.
I wouldn’t want to give the wrong impression. I would still recommend Bocca di Lupo, in fact I really want to go back because there are loads of exciting things I still want to try — next time I might try and choose a more diverse selection of plates and not ones that are themed on one animal.
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