15-17 Marylebone Lane, W1M 5FE
Caldesi, run by cookery school owner, author and sometime television personality Giancarlo Caldesi, bills itself as a truly family operation, featuring Tuscan home-style cooking and recipes handed down by word of mouth.
This sort of publicity caused me to fondly envisage myself, on arrival at the restaurant in the quieter stretches of Marylebone Lane, being seated at a kitchen table and plied with meatballs by a concerned, kindly elderly relative.
The reality was unexpectedly formal: a cool, neutral dining room, a hushed middle-aged clientele and service on the brisk side of efficient. More like dinner at a slightly disapproving great-aunt's house, I thought, jazz tinkling politely behind me. The waiting staff wheeled out - some 1970s holiday snaps? No - excellent, salty bread. My companion asked for minestrone. Do this in many restaurants, and you're presented with something resembling a miniature riverine chemical spillage; shoals of limp vermicelli floating belly-up in a violently orange broth. Caldesi, though, did the original peasant staple justice; it was sweet and well-thickened with vegetables. An antipasto misto appeared with a generous, if predictable, selection of high-quality meats (a slightly less generous finger of cheese replaced, without comment, the advertised chicken liver crostino).
Caldesi, run by cookery school owner, author and sometime television personality Giancarlo Caldesi, bills itself as a truly family operation, featuring Tuscan home-style cooking and recipes handed down by word of mouth.
This sort of publicity caused me to fondly envisage myself, on arrival at the restaurant in the quieter stretches of Marylebone Lane, being seated at a kitchen table and plied with meatballs by a concerned, kindly elderly relative.
The reality was unexpectedly formal: a cool, neutral dining room, a hushed middle-aged clientele and service on the brisk side of efficient. More like dinner at a slightly disapproving great-aunt's house, I thought, jazz tinkling politely behind me. The waiting staff wheeled out - some 1970s holiday snaps? No - excellent, salty bread. My companion asked for minestrone. Do this in many restaurants, and you're presented with something resembling a miniature riverine chemical spillage; shoals of limp vermicelli floating belly-up in a violently orange broth. Caldesi, though, did the original peasant staple justice; it was sweet and well-thickened with vegetables. An antipasto misto appeared with a generous, if predictable, selection of high-quality meats (a slightly less generous finger of cheese replaced, without comment, the advertised chicken liver crostino).
Petto d'anatra alle More, duck breast with blackberries, deftly balanced fatty meat with acidic fruit, while spezzatino Toscano, beef stewed for four hours with red wine and tomatoes, was an earthy, grandmotherly embrace of a dish. Vegetables were simply but carefully prepared (though...pak choi? In Tuscany?) Still, desserts were purely Italian; light tiramisu - to Signor Caldesi's personal recipe, apparently - and a 'flourless' chocolate cake.
Despite a slightly chilly setting and service, there was real familial warmth in the food, and care in the choice of a small but thoroughly Italian wine list, though all this homely affection doesn't come cheap, with mains pushing the £20 mark. But by the end the home cooking had clasped me firmly to its bosom.
Despite a slightly chilly setting and service, there was real familial warmth in the food, and care in the choice of a small but thoroughly Italian wine list, though all this homely affection doesn't come cheap, with mains pushing the £20 mark. But by the end the home cooking had clasped me firmly to its bosom.
