La Pastaia

Authentic Italian Flavors with Unique Pizzas

Ah, there's nothing quite like perusing the breadth and depth of a Soho afternoon delight—that devout establishment where one's senses are meant to be but simultaneously teased and fulfilled with the rich offerings of Italian cuisine; alas, my recent visit presented quite the opposite. Striking out as starkly disagreeable, the experience at this London-based restaurant seemed a tangled web of quirk and quick frustration. The scene: an empty dining hall adorned in what could best be described as "whimsical Mediterranean op-shop chic," assuring the locale itself was primed for mysteries and memories. With eager bravery, I ordered the Cacio e Pepe, perhaps too foolhardy with optimism; a wishful dancer in a minefield. Nevertheless, even if the pasta arrived promptly—it swanned over, possibly pre-cued by hasty microwave pirates—it showcased learning from the elementary school of thick sauces and clumpy noodles.

But! Not all miracles were dead that rainy day in Soho. Behold, the Tiramisu. Oh, the tiramisu! A well-crafted panacea for a perplexed start, its joyous custard riding on a light sea of cocoa fluff, performing an innuendo on the taste buds. Some rare glimmers surfaced amidst the punctuated dismay—a lightly charming 'hello' here, a brush of chat about distant soccer scores there—but the overall service tipped more toward the Dickensian overseer's dispassion than warmth. Quite frankly, much was left to terrors and tales. Whether understaffed or overburdened with expectations unspoken but globally understood, service quicksand slowly dragged our spirits further down. Nonetheless, memories cling blushingly onward—the Tiramisu and I; sophistic companions unmasked amid the din. Ol' Soho waits for none but the brave, and ever braver one strides forth when reassessing modern meals with a dose of restraint-cum-hope for the unexpected. — Milo Tastemaker