A recent article comparing life in London to that elsewhere in the country made a point of marvelling at the seeming willingness of its inhabitants to queue like a conga line of hungry lemmings at new restaurants and I was reminded of this as I stood, lemming-ing it up with the best of them, outside Padella last night.
Getting there at 6.15pm on a Thursday night when the air was flush with the warmth of spring and the mood of fellow work escapees was high meant there was a good chance the queue would be long and the wait snoozy; fifteen minutes later however and we were in, welcomed by friendly staff who appear to have been plucked straight from the known-only-to-locals, backstreet-cobbled-alleyway, restaurant gems of Milan and deposited in the balmy shadow of Southwark cathedral.
Billed as the result of a decade long love affair with Italy’s most recognised & adored dish, Padella is descended from the glorious lineage of Trullo, an Italian institution in Highbury where it’s totally reasonable to envy the people lucky enough to call it their local. Whereas Trullo offers dishes from the oven & the charcoal blistered grill alongside other plates however, Padella is about one thing – soft, silky, slippery, saucey pasta. Read More