The other day a takeaway opened near where I live with a slightly pretentious name – no surprise there. But the real shocker is it’s selling penne – penne! – with a chicken and tomato sauce at £12.50 a pop. Which puts into perspective just what good value a pioneer like Lina Stores is. Here, at its chic new Marylebone Village restaurant, exemplary pasta dishes are served beautifully, and hover within the reasonable £7-14 price bracket. Take, for example, a plate of pillowy grass-green ravioli filled with pea and ricotta, drizzled with a richly savoury primavera sauce, and topped with mint, herby peas and shavings of pecorino romano. The price? A snip at £7. And it wasn’t even tiny.
More filling still was the tightly packed bowl of £11 crab linguine, its sheer fishy simplicity requiring nothing other than a crack of black pepper. And let’s not even get started on our meal’s carby highlight (tip: if you’re a couple you need only share two pasta dishes, but we were unrepentantly greedy). A majestic tagliolini – made with three times as many egg yolks as normal – was simply adorned with parmigiano reggiano, butter (lots of it!) and delicate shards of black truffle. And yet even this silken, unctuous miracle still only came in at £12 – yep, 50p less than my local takeaway and it’s got truffles in it. Plus, we’re eating in the heart of W1, for heaven’s sake.
The original Lina Stores is one of Soho’s oldest delis, sitting pretty on Brewer Street since 1944 selling Italian ingredients that could, at one time, barely be found anywhere else. In the last few years, it has teamed up with skilled Umbrian-born head chef Masha Rener to launch a handful of restaurants, on nearby Greek Street, at Coal Drops Yard by King’s Cross, and in the Bloomberg Arcade. This latest branch evokes a real sense of space, all parquet flooring, big windows and soft globe lighting, the obligatory open kitchen rather serene. In its centre stands Rener, a vision of calm, overseeing and scrutinising every plate in careful, almost choreographed movements.
A joyous and suitably messy shell-stripping experience
And this obvious attention to detail is apparent in the antipasti, too (also keenly priced at £5-£12): a classic panzanella matched zingy heritage tomatoes with crunchy sourdough cubes, toasted buckwheat and rings of sweet Tropea onion; while elsewhere an outstanding sea bream crudo – strewn with golden pine nuts, red onion slivers, capers, fronds of dill and torn basil leaves – punched as hard as any of the pasta dishes in its expert balance of flavours and textures. Our finale was a sharing platter of big fat chargrilled prawns, crowned only with garlicky chopped Sicilian Datterini tomatoes, a joyous and suitably messy shell-stripping experience.
Disclaimer: I’m not big on dessert, and yet even I couldn’t quite resist the waiter’s recommendation of a violet-coloured Zuppa Inglese, a booze-heavy berry trifle laden with the citrus notes of Italian liqueur Alchermes. Speaking of which, service was keen throughout, perhaps excessively so, but it’s understandable as this shiny outpost had only been open ten days (and we all know how frustrating the opposite of keen is). But overall, flawless cooking aside, this latest Lina Stores has friendly neighbourhood vibes with an artful pinch of in-the-know West End fabulousness.
The vibe: Note-perfect pasta joint with open kitchen at the foot of Marylebone Village.
The food: Hand-made pastas at un-silly prices, including *that* tagliolini with black truffle. But don’t pass over the antipasti either.
The drink: A negroni to start, or a summery limoncello spritz. Then order cold, crisp Gavi with your pasta.
Time Out tip: Don’t skip the low-lit subterranean art-deco bar for a cheeky aperitivo or amaro.