A Thursday evening brought a long overdue catch up with an old friend. We both work in Mayfair, so Soho was an obvious choice for the evening. After considering Pitt Cue Co., the incredibly hyped and surely excellent new barbecue shack, but not sure if we could stand a queue when hungry and sober due to their no reservations policy (please say the West End will get over this fad soon?), we settled on the very new Mele e Pere on Brewer Street and booked (hooray) accordingly. The balmy spring weather briefly disconcerted us and we exchanged a few afternoon emails wondering if we should try to find somewhere with an outside area for pre-dinner drinks. Coming to our senses and realising that a) it wasn’t that warm and b) nowhere in Soho has a decent al fresco seating area (USP for the next West End opening?) we decided on the new(ish) Campari bar at Polpo. Everybody knows about Polpo, and my friend and I are agreed that Russell Norman (Polpo, Polpetto, Spuntino…) is probably the most amazing man ever, apart from Michael Fassbender. He (Russell not Michael) is also fantastically funny on Twitter, just for the record. So it was no surprise that Polpo was full even at 6pm when I arrived. Heading through the door to the loos, now also marked with the words ‘Campari bar’, I was pleasantly surprised by the little underground space, with only 4 tables and not much more standing room. Very atmospheric. A couple of negronis later and the place had really warmed up. Great cocktails for the price of any drink in a chain bar – not too shabby. Conscious that our reservation awaited, we left the happy hordes and made our way into the dark, and not warm, Soho night. Via a brief stop in a pub for a swift glass of Pinot Grigio, we arrived on Brewer Street . The corner glowed brightly with the neon lights of Mele e Pere which looked absolutely nothing like a restaurant. The ground floor was basically an empty room with an incredible display of apples and pears (Mele e Pere in Italian) in Murano Glass. Have a look!
Down the apples (cockney rhyming slang for stairs, keep up) was a huge basement with a nice bar and lots of seating space. It was dark, but intentionally so. An effusive greeting from an ‘espanish’ waiter later and we had a bottle of Montepulciano and some delicious homemade foccacia in front of us as we perused the menu. And what a menu *pause for emphasis*. Barely 6 starters, 6 mains, 6 pastas and a selection of nibbles and sides. Absolutely ideal. My friend, who is another intrepid food explorer, and I had had a conversation about the fact that neither of us had ever eaten tripe and, seeing it on the menu, were resolved to try it. With slight trepidation we ordered the tripe alongside hand chopped veal and snails with pecorino to start. Yes, three starters to share. Shut up, my friend goes to the gym and I don’t care. They arrived in due course and we began with the veal. Well, it was raw. Veal tartare with fennel, toast and parmesan. Absolutely incredible. The snails were as good as anything is in a garlic butter sauce and we were suitably happy. Now it was time to tackle the tripe, which came in thin strips slow cooked in a tomato sauce. You know what? It was great. Non scary protein. Ok, yes, it smells like a farmyard but it’s nowhere near as pungent as andouillette (the French sausage made of guts) and we ate it with pleasure. We asked our Spanish waiter what it was called in Spanish, expecting the answer ‘tripas’ perhaps, and he looked at us, looked at it, and said ‘intestinos’. So there you go. I wouldn’t recommend it for the faint hearted, or if you can’t get your head around where it comes from, but it was delicious. Genuinely delicious.
By now the place was filling up, and it was time for our main courses. 2 pastas. For me a classic carbonara, and for my friend a ca-something (annoyingly I can’t remember the spelling and google can’t help, but it was small, squiggly pasta – answers on a postcard) with meat ragu. Both were perfect, perfect, perfect pasta. Faultless.
By now full to bursting, we could only manage a scoop of blood orange sorbet (me) and a scoop of pistachio ice cream (my friend) to finish the night. As we relaxed into the evening after a great meal, we discussed topics as varied as high street clothing sizes, crocodiles, and why the man at the next table was having dinner with 9 women (film star? Pimp?).
All in all, a fantastic evening at a great new restaurant. What more can you ask for?
http://www.meleepere.co.uk/ Price: £50 a head with more food and wine than anyone could possibly need.
