_{“The trouble with eating Italian is that 5 or 6 days later you’re hungry again.” George Miller}

It was a windy, wet mid-week day when I stepped off the pavement into Manteca. Instantly all was warmth, and relaxed chat.

Our table was in a long row of tables for two. They were close together, but the restaurant so filled with activity that there was no chance to concentrate on anything other than our own meal and conversation. There was also no looking around for service as it seemed to appear out of nowhere to explain menus and choices, and then to deliver the results.

We were happy from start to finish – part of the theatre that swirled around us.

The open, stainless steel kitchen runs down the middle of the restaurant, with chefs in bright white chopping and preparing and plating up the bread and pasta, the meats and salads, while kitchen staff carry tubs of vegetables to and fro.

Our choices included chunks of foccacia alongisde puffy pork crackling, with a warming, rich ragu. Next came a bitter leaf salad with gorgonzola and pear, and then two pasta dishes, one with a crab sauce and another in a sauce of emerald green kale with chilli. They both tasted fresh and delicious.

We ended the meal with coffee and some salty fudge, then stepped back into the winter reality of London’s streets. Our immersion was over. Our escape was over. Our privileged two hours were over.

Was it worth it? Definitely. We had enjoyed attention, theatre, and food full of flavour, with a quietly professional kitchen right at the heart of our moment in time.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023