Pavilion

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Vasco & Piero's - Italian Restaurant, Soho London

We are a traditional Italian restaurant, which moves along with the times and is loved by the local community.

We are not here to wow, just serve good Italian food based on our Umbrian heritage.

We change the menu twice a day, and it always includes a few of our home made pasta dishes.

In general, there are no time limits on tables.

We have paintings from Giampaolo Tomassetti, an artist from Umbria and we present guest artists from time to time.

Pavilion, London W8, restaurant review - Telegraph

My pork belly (£13.50) was a little dry but the it-shouldn’t-work-but-it-does sideshow – black pudding, langoustine, smoked pineapple (1970s in a good way) and slivers of lardo – was fantastic.

Steak is taken so seriously here that it has its own page on the menu, and B’s sirloin (£24.50) was the right combination of the macho and the tender, his beef-dripping chips macho only, as they should be.

Under the prerequisite tower of salad – the vegetable edifice being a marker of the high-end dining experience these days – were some rather exciting beer-pickled onions.

(Simmonds is adventurous with his ingredients, and there is a lot of fun to be had in guessing your way around the plate.)

Imagine a grown-up Aero bar – those were the “aerated chocolate” chunks that, along with a mint ice cream and a marquise of such ur-chocolatey-ness that I was half expecting to find Willy Wonka’s Golden Ticket within, made up a masterful pudding for B (£8.95).

Vasco & Piero's Pavilion, London W1: 'This Soho old-timer is ...

Pondering restaurant longevity, what causes it, what makes a place outlive its neighbours, I head for a Soho old-timer, the pushing-50 Vasco & Piero’s.

Umbrian touches come via hearty use of chickpeas and pulses: fine, rosy-centred seared tuna on a bed of lentils, bathed randomly and successfully with soy and ginger.

Pasta is made in-house daily: tagliatelle, yolk-yellow and dressed with a judicious amount of rich, vinous, slow-cooked beef and pork ragú; daringly al dente orecchiette, the chewy little ears laden with a forest’s-worth of wild mushrooms and just a lick of cream to pull the whole dish together.

Umbrian truffles feature in season: I love the posh-prole play of floury borlotti beans under a fat, rough Tuscan sausage stuffed with pecorino, wrapped in pancetta and roasted before being anointed with black truffle butter.

Service: a neatly judged array of smooth operators dedicated to your pleasure and mild flirtation, the odd daft boy for levity and an elderly chap who I think is the titular Vasco Matteucci, metaphorically cuffing them all across the ears.