Plenty of neighbourhood trattorias sell themselves as cheap and cheerful, but few do it as well as Ciullosteria. The surroundings are kitsch without irony – classic terracotta floor tiles oddly offset by an enormous replica of a tomato purée tube, for instance – but that only adds to the charm. The raised section at the back is cosier and more suited to winter, while the airy front (with its small number of alfresco tables) is better in summer.
The menu contains an enticing choice of thin-crusted pizzas with regional toppings (torino and genovese supplementing the usual fiorentina and napoletana), but the pastas and grills are also deservedly popular. There’s usually a good-value piece of thinly beaten veal too: on our visit, it came with a tangy, chewy topping of melted mozzarella and tomato. The practice of serving all non-pizza mains with sharing plates of roast potatoes and boiled or battered veg is a little too reminiscent of a school canteen.
One tip: don’t come here for some hush – if it’s someone’s birthday, staff love nothing more than to crank up Stevie Wonder’s ‘Happy Birthday’ to full volume (sometimes playing it twice).