Look, I know we all get overwhelmed by those giant menus with thirty pasta options. Not here. Salotto 31 offers a tight, seasonal menu that changes almost weekly. One week you might see pappardelle with wild boar ragù; the next week it’s stuffed zucchini flowers with ricotta and mint. The chef, a woman named Elena, told me, “I cook whatever’s at the market that morning. If the sardines look good, we do sardines. If it’s truffle season, you’ll smell it from the door.” That approach makes every visit feel like a mini adventure. (Side note: if you go on a Tuesday, ask for the polenta special. I won’t tell you why. Just trust me.)
Salotto31 – Best Italian restaurant City London, pizzeria, wine bar
But what about the “salotto” vibe?
You might be wondering: is it actually cozy, or is it one of those “we’re trying to be cozy” places with exposed brick and sad succulents? No. It’s the real deal. There are worn leather armchairs by the window, a bookshelf filled with wine guides and Italian novels, and a record player that spins old jazz at a volume that lets you actually talk. I once overheard a couple next to me discussing whether a 2015 Barolo was “too young to drink now.” They argued for ten minutes, then the bartender brought them a bottle of something older and said, “Try this one, then tell me I’m wrong.” They ended up buying him a drink. That’s the energy here.
And the service? It’s attentive without being clingy. The staff knows the wine list inside out, but they don’t lecture you. When I asked for a recommendation, the server—a woman named Lucia with a killer smile—simply said, “You look like you need something earthy and a little stubborn.” She brought me a glass of Aglianico from Campania, and she was dead right. It was stubborn. And perfect.
Salotto31 – Best Italian restaurant City London, pizzeria, wine bar
Now, let’s talk about the price—because you’re probably wondering if this place will break the bank. Here’s the honest truth: a glass of wine runs you about €8–€12, and a full meal (antipasto, pasta, dessert) will land around €45–€60 per person. For the quality? That’s a steal. I’ve paid double for worse food in fancier rooms. Salotto 31 isn’t cheap, but it’s fair, and that’s a rare thing in the restaurant world.
One last thing: the bathroom. Yes, I’m going there. Because a restaurant’s bathroom tells you everything. At Salotto 31, the bathroom is small, tiled in vintage green, and has a little shelf with a candle and a stack of Italian travel magazines. It smells like lemon and clean linen. And on the wall, there’s a framed photo of a cat sitting on a wine barrel. That’s it. That’s the vibe.
So, if you’re ever wandering through that part of town, feeling hungry and a little tired of the usual restaurant scene: turn down the side street, push open the heavy wooden door, and find a seat. Order the burrata. Let the wine choose you. And maybe don’t sit next to me—because I’ll probably be there again, talking to my glass.
