Luca, 88, St John Street, EC1
When you’re in the fortunate position of eating out several times a week for work, you can develop snow-blindness (yes, my diamond shoes are pinching). If much of what you eat is really good, your baseline for superb moves accordingly. At Luca in Clerkenwell, however, the word passed my lips on no fewer than half a dozen occasions during the course of a note-perfect dinner.
The first one was when I walked in. A modern Italian that focuses on homemade pasta and the best seasonal British ingredients, Luca was opened by Isaac Mchale and business partners Johnny Smith and Daniel Willis (of Clove Club fame) in late 2016. I visited soon afterwards, but somehow haven’t since, and I’d forgotten how utterly lovely it is. The warm mid-century wood and terracotta banquettes feel very Fellini and the lighting after dark makes taking photos near-impossible, which means it’s perfect for actually enjoying your food and each other’s company. There’s a pasta-making room, acres of marble and brass and a leafy terrace, too.
We went for the £75 Prixe Fixe menu. The second ‘superb’ was prompted about five minutes after that by Parmesan fries. Chips dusted with sawdusty shavings are best left in the early 2000s, but these are nothing of the sort: think churros, molten within and Betjeman-burnished without, simultaneously the lightest and richest things you’ve ever tasted.
Next, roast Orkney scallops with Jerusalem artichoke and nduja. They came in the shell, looking like something painted by Botticelli. The nduja had caramelised under the grill into a crisp yet fudgy, intensely savoury crust. We had ours with a glass of Krimiso Catarratto Aldo Viola, a Sicilian orange wine with marzipan notes that cajoled another s-word, together with wistful sighs.
After that, there was no stopping me: the burrata with heritage tomatoes and tropea onions, the whipped salt cod, the smoked sheep’s ricotta ravioli, the Hereford beef fillet, all prompted superlatives. I won’t leave it five years before visiting again—and, next time, I might wear my diamond shoes.
Emma Hughes