I don’t know if the owner recognises me but he is asking a lot of questions. How is the focaccia? Is the wine okay? What do I think of the menu, the pasta, and the pizza? I answer, mostly, in nods and half smiles, telling him on one occasion, half-jokingly, that I am difficult to please. Sophie says that my face is incapable of lying. He tells me that he wants the truth, and, quite brazenly, that he wants “the worst reviews in the world now so that they can get better”. Okay, the focaccia needs a lot more olive oil, the negroni needs a better vermouth, the wine list needs to lean into the more interesting bits of Italy, I hate the generic Italian pop music, the interior already feels a decade old, the portions are way too big and the pizza base needs a slower, more consistent, proving. Happy? I can carry on with the rest of my review now.
And that is everything negative I have to say about Ponte out of the way, because it’s actually quite sweet and they are clearly trying very hard to have a nice restaurant despite appearing very green at times. The look inside is a quite weird blend of the modern and the old, with touches like the neon lights to keep the most basic of bitches returning for a bowl of ragu. We sit in the window looking out to the sterile joys of Newhall Street through the peperoncini vines (are they real?), sipping on that just-about-okay negroni and looking at a wine list that appears to be formed from a couple of producers. They send focaccia, which is bouncy and light and a bit anglicised given the best examples coat the fingers with peppery Extra Virgin Oil from the foot part of the Italian boot. We share a starter of bites of deep fried lasagne that’s generous if a little underseasoned. Sophie ponders on how good this could be if i made it at home with my ragu. I nod, my face telling the truth.
To their credit I tell them we have a show to make at the start of the meal and the mains appear just as the starter disappears. Sophie’s generous pile of gnocchi, a touch floury but nothing twenty more seconds in the pan wouldn’t sort out, with a gorgonzola sauce that again is a touch floury but nothing that a more sandy roux wouldn’t rectify. It comes with a good squash puree and the great addition of candied walnuts. It is very nearly there. My pizza is okay; good quality spiniata picante, decent ‘nduja. You know what I think of the dough because I told you up top. Sophie describes it ‘last night of the holiday pizza’ , a phrase that is so incredibly accurate that I have nothing further to add. And I know I’ve mentioned my wife a lot so far but 1) She is sitting opposite me throughout the meal 2) I happen to like her too much to ever let her go back to being Greaves again, and 3) she is so much better at this nonsense than I will ever be.
We don’t get dessert but we do get a bill for £68 which is great value in this end of town. The reality is the restaurant is a far cry from the shrieks of ‘great new addition’ and ‘must visit’ which came from an influencers preview the week before, but then it is but three days open when we visit. You get the impression that they want it to succeed so much that it likely will, and they care, which is the number one ingredient in Italian cooking. I hope they get there, Ponte is easy to enjoy even if the end product is some way off the likes of Tropea and Spingere at present.
7/10
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