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Pictured: Lottie Moggach

Published: 10 May, 2012
by LOTTIE MOGGACH

On Sunday, I went to the London Hilton Metropole Hotel in Edgware Road, a place I’d never been before ­– and I’ll wager that you, fellow Londoner, haven’t been there either.

Why would you? It’s not nearly glamorous enough to be a destination for afternoon tea or cocktails, and not nearly cheap enough to be an emergency lodging when your flat is flooded.

Or perhaps you were also one of the many people lured in by a newspaper advert for an auction of items repossessed from bankrupt companies. I find the idea of these auctions quite interesting, seeming both rather Dickensian and a sign of the times; also, I wanted some cheap rugs.

Well, I know that there is always a human cost to insolvency that makes it distasteful to applaud but – all I can say is that, judging from the goods on offer in the Hilton’s vast function room, the world at large is not worse off for the loss of these companies. Aside from some bottles of vintage wine sprinkled throughout the lots to sweeten proceedings, everything was beyond undesirable – execrable paintings of stags on misty mountains and wonky nudes; cheap, hideous handbags; naff decorative wine glasses the size of fishbowls.

The rugs were garish copies of Kelims, suitable only for mopping up flood water.

Still, it wasn’t a wasted trip. Walking through the Hilton’s cruise ship-esque corridors felt like a holiday from being a Londoner, and our foreigner-in-the-city experience continued when we went on to lunch in nearby Marylebone.

Briciole is the second venture from Maurizio Morelli, the man behind Latium in Fitzrovia, and, as the names suggest, is Italian (for those who chose German at GCSE, “briciole” means breadcrumbs, and the restaurant’s logo is a cartoon group of jolly, anthropomorphised bread-based products).

And it really is Italian; not just in its food and staff but also, on the evidence of our visit, in its customers.

The couples to our left and right certainly were, and almost everyone else in the airy, brick-walled room looked it, including several large family groups ranging from well-behaved young children to elderly matriarchs wearing pearl necklaces and stiff hairdos.

Such patronage is, of course, a good sign.

The menu consists of unpretentious trattoria dishes, mostly in small plate form, with the emphasis on authentic, well-sourced ingredients rather than fancy presentation: choose some mozzarella Campana from the 15-strong cheese list, for instance, and you’ll get a whole, unadorned ball of the stuff.

We filled our table with dishes – that mozzarella, prosciutto di Parma, fried risotto balls, rigatoni with arrabbiata sauce, salad with broad beans, Umbrian wild boar dry sausage, focaccia bruschetta with fresh Sicilian cherry tomatoes – and weren’t disappointed by anything.

Neither did we leap out of our seats from the impact of sensational, hitherto unknown flavour combinations, but that’s not the point of the place.

For pudding, we had two of Italy’s best inventions: affogato – ice cream with espresso poured over the top – and sgroppino, lemon sorbet blended with prosecco. The wine list is excellent, and surprisingly moderately priced for W1.

Indeed, you may do a double take at the food prices, too: the focaccia, arancini and puddings were a mere £3, the pasta and whole mozzarella ball only £6. The only dishes to cost over a tenner are a rib eye steak and lamb cutlet.

So, if you’re in the market for some high quality goods going for a song, may I suggest you skip the Hilton HMRC auction and head straight to Homer Street.

Summary: Tasty, authentic and inexpensive Italian trattoria in Marylebone. Around £25 a head.

Briciole, 20 Homer Street, W1H 4NA
020 7723 0040
www.briciole.co.uk