Where to find (and eat) the best pasta in London

This Highbury trattoria has two simply iconic pasta dishes. Its pappardelle with beef shin ragu and pici cacio e pepe are the stuff of legends and have been a staple since Trullo’s early days and remain a silky, substantial delight. The pasta might get all the love, but don’t miss other dishes, such as giant Black Hampshire pork chop with borlotti beans and salsa verde. Wash it all down with an accessible and mighty Italian wine list.

Order this: Cacio e pepe.

This legend’s note-perfect, well-priced pastas are as raved-about now as they were the week it opened. Like tripping over massive suitcases on the tube at rush hour, standing in the ever-present queue is an irritating fact of London life. But there are things you can do to make it less of a drag. Get there very early (11.30am on a Sunday), very late (9pm on a Monday) or – like one hero Time Out spotted – bring a folding chair. Once you’re inside go classic with pappardelle and beef shin ragù. There's also a branch in Shoreditch. 

Order this: Pappardelle and beef shin ragù.

The Insta-infamous east London bakery turns into a sit-down pasta restaurant in the evenings, offering the likes of lamb cannelloni lounging provocatively on a bed of bagna cauda, draped with soft, slow cooked friggatelli peppers like some kind of reclining Modigliani nude. The menu is seasonal, so expect different dishes every time. The perfect lowkey neighbourhood pasta joint. 

Order this: Maltagliati with clams, chilli and bottarga. 

Opened in 1944, the pastel-painted Brewer Street shop is stuffed to the rafters with the best pasta this side of the Dolomites. Browse the whole wall of superior dried stuff (Lina stocks the cheffy Rummo brand) or park up next to the homemade fresh-pasta counter, take it home and cook up a storm. If you can't be bothered to DIY your dinner, then there are Lina Stores restaurants on nearby Greek Street, as well as in Marylebone, Bloomberg Arcade, King's Cross, Clapham, Shoreditch, and South Ken.

Order this: Linguine con granchio e limone - with crab, Amalfi lemon, chilli and Garlic.

Pasta for your starter and your main? Peckham’s premier purveyor actively encourages it. There’s always a choice of two different ones, and they’re always available in little and large sizes, so you could start with something lilke mushroom tortellini in a deeply savoury porcini broth then move on to a jumbo portion of perfectly chewy bucatini with confit cherry tomatoes and wild garlic. You can also find a branch of Artusi in Soho.

Order this: Ravioli di erbette.

Bancone has one dish you simply must devour - ‘silk handkerchiefs’. The delicate rectangles (call them fazzoletti if you’re feeling fancy) are dressed with walnut butter and topped with a gorgeously golden confit egg yolk. It’s officially the restaurant’s most ’Grammed dish. And, unofficially, it’s got to be one of London’s too. Heaven.

Order this: Silk handkerchiefs.

Brutto has been a pasta-lover’s paradise since it opened in 2021. Saucy penne con vodka is served with a generous side-bowl of Parmesan that you can ladle on to your heart’s content, and pork and mortadella-filled pasta parcels float in delicious bone broth as the traditional tortelloni in brodo dish. Lunch here is a delightfully unhurried affair, made all the more chill by its homely decor and low-cost house wine. Dinner is noisier, but when you’re drinking a £5 negroni and tucking into some of the best pasta in the city, you can’t complain about a bit of enthusiastic jazz coming through the speakers. 

Order this: Tortelloni con brodo.

Settle down among the chrome vases and midcentury light fittings for a retro menu of regional pasta classics. Dalla head chef Mitchell Damota served time at Burro e Salvia and P Franco, and just as the room is filled with vintage Italian goodies, so is his menu. Made daily and in-house, on our visit there’s an immaculately chewy trofie slicked with luminescent parsley presto and formaggio di capra (that’s goats cheese to those of us not raised on Antonioni and Fellini movies). Even better was an otherworldly fieno di canepina with mushroom and sausage. Think of it as tagliatelle on Ozempic, a skinny, long noodle swirled with pungent porcini.

Order this: There are usually just three pasta dishes on the menu. Get one of each.

Dinner at this waterside Italian isn’t just a chance to scoff some of the city’s most skilfully made pasta, it’s a (delicious) science lesson. The clever bods behind Emilia’s Crafted Pasta have spent years working out exactly which pasta goes best with which sauce. So their bolognese is paired with wide silky ribbons of fresh egg pappardelle, while their carbonara (made in the northern Italian style, using the whole egg) is complemented by the rougher texture of dried semolina pasta. Sit back and let the staff guide you – they seriously know their stuff.

Order this: Carbonara.

Back in the pre-decimal days, if you wanted to eat pasta in London, you had to go to a trattoria – a checked-tablecloth kind of place where the pepper mills were the size of scaffolding poles and the wine came in straw-covered bottles. Today these places are a dying breed, but this Bloomsbury institution still does a roaring trade in spaghetti vongole, meatballs in tomato sauce and old-school carbonara. Small-plates-haters take note: the ones here are massive.  

Order this: Spaghetti vongole.

An Italian-American restaurant right out of a Billy Joel song, Senza Fondo translates to ‘bottomless’ and that’s what they’re here to do - serve unlimited lasagna until you pass out/admit defeat/call an ambulance. Each sturdy chonk is served in a bath of bechamel and topped with a heavy cloud of parmesan shavings, and for £20 a head, you can test your nerve with all-you-can-eat lasagna in meaty (slow-cooked beef shin) or veggie (artichoke) versions. Handily, this is good stuff. Eight-ish densely-packed layers of pasta that holds its form rather than slopping all over the place.

Order this: The lasagna, of course.

Imagine forking into ribbons of perfectly tender fettuccine that have been swirled inside a huge, hollowed-out grana padano cheese wheel before being served to you with a flourish (and bacon bits). Well, as luck would have it, you don’t need to imagine – you can get your mitts on a bowl of the stuff thanks to the Cheese Wheel at Camden Market. The stall douses fresh pasta in a creamy alfredo sauce before taking it for a trip around the inside of the 40kg beast it takes its name from. What’s not to love?

Order this: Cheesy fettuccine.

Fancy becoming a pasta maestro, but not sure where to start? Roll up your sleeves and head to this tiny Italian-owned café-deli in Shoreditch. Burro e Salvia (it means ‘butter and sage’ – yum) runs classes, during which its team of sfogline (‘sheet-makers’) share their know-how. You can learn how to make your own fresh egg-and-flour pasta from scratch, before turning it into everything from lasagne to farfalle (bows) and mezzelune (filled half-moons). 

Order this: Spaghetti ‘alla Norma’ with aubergine and salted ricotta.

Freshly hand-rolled at the start of every service, the pasta at this low-lit Shoreditch spot is seriously sexy (think crab taglierini or pork-cheek agnolotti with porcini butter) and everything is made for sharing. Bag two stools at the window bar overlooking Rivington Street and get ready to re-enact Disney’s most famous romantic (dogs’) dinner scene; unless you order the ravioli – in which case, it’s going to be more like the suck-and-blow beer mat game, sorry.

Order this: Pork-cheek agnolotti with porcini butter.

Forget cardboardy lasagne sheets and gritty fusilli – the future of gluten-free pasta is here, and it’s every bit as delicious as the wheaty OG. The vast majority of this bustling Bermondsey joint’s dishes can be made with gluten-free penne on request; and sauce-wise, the sky’s the limit. Whether you’re in the mood for slow-cooked beef-shin ragù or a fancy preserved truffle and butter emulsion, it’s got you covered. 

Order this: Gigli with sausage, fennel, puntarelle and chilli ragu.