Pasticcio London

Italian Charm Meets Culinary Delight!

With its cheerfully mismatched chairs and rustic charm, nestled cozily on the endlessly diverted pathways of Finchley Road, this Italian bistro, which is more trattoria-in-denial, found the peculiar pleasure of straddling tried-and-true comfort with flashes of brilliance—in that order. Arriving on a damp Tuesday eve, the tableau resembled a calm after the culinary storm, just three patrons cradling their cutlery thoughtfully. Service at such population density felt like a spectator sport—slow enough for contemplation yet curiously nostalgic, sending a quiet reminder that small plates cannot bustle themselves to tables.

In stark contrast, those tortelli! Cushy pockets of joy, two flourished times without the intervening regret of it going cold—fresh, unequivocally Italian, rescued me from a poultry hell. A fork of pasta teased me closer, playfully batting away the tyranny of Olive Gardenization. Straying commendably close, Pasticcio remains that satisfyingly forgotten corner of Italy: familial, hearty on success, moderate on cost, and cautious with innovation. Their amicably fluffed lasagna soothes savaged June days past ICU-like service, spurring the reassurance that there still exist corners in London sparse on transcendental aspirations but high on loyal regulars peppered with vegetably resolve. Beheld is an otherwise underwhelming menu, salved by discrete joys warranting return-trip indulgence solely by ways of them serenely meant, “can we establish tablescape? Yes, we can!” — Penelope Savory