As my friend and I sat by the window in Cicchetti, watching the shiny Bentleys and Mercs glide along the street past Harrods, our inevitable question was: who can actually afford to live round here? Naturally it’s a little hard to fathom for most of us, relegated to the capital’s grittier neighbourhoods.
Swanky Knightsbridge always offers the thrill of a foreign city, even if you’re a lifelong Londoner: taking our seats in Cicchetti’s Venetian-inspired dining room felt so luxurious it made us wonder why we so often settle for bare brick, a chalkboard menu and a dangling bulb or two. Why, here you can ogle a polished marble bar, towering lilies in vases, lemons piled high in bowls, and burnished brass by the bucketload. There’s even a colourful mural across the whole of one wall. And look up: that’s your beaming reflection in the mirrored ceiling.
The glitzy room proved an appropriate backdrop to nibble what turned out to be mostly textbook cicchetti, those small-to-medium sharing plates served in Venetian bácari, explained the waiter, who suggested four to five dishes between two.
Owned by global Italian chain San Carlo, this is a confident restaurant that undeniably knows its game: fillet steak tagliata arrived sliced ruddy and butter-soft, shy under shards of salty parmesan and fronds of rocket. In fact, our old mate rocket found its wily way everywhere: beneath a mound of ruby tuna tartare – almost pâté-like, such was its melt-in-the-mouth consistency – and accompanying delicate hand-picked crab with avocado nestling in a pleasingly brittle pane carasau (Sardinian flatbread).
Thankfully, the peppery leaf counted itself out for our other plates. The one pasta dish, an unctuous lobster ravioli, didn’t disappoint, with its silken fishy bisque and garnish of prawns, but ultimately it lacked a wow factor, unlike two excellent sides: skinny, grease-free zucchini fritte, and deliciously al dente tenderstem broccoli with sliced chilli and garlic. (Note-to-self: at £4.80 I’d eat a plate of this on its own for lunch.)
Old-school dining like this means crowning the meal with sugary desserts – even if, like me, you’re not especially sweet-of-tooth. A creamily balanced coupe of Tiramisu, complete with brand name San Carlo piped in chocolate, was gone in seconds, accompanied by a thimble of golden Marsala, while a pea-green pistachio cheesecake was smoothly moreish, just the right side of sweet. We also enjoyed chiacchere – crunchy fried pastries sprinkled with icing sugar and citrus zest – served with strong espresso.
Cicchetti is the kind of place where the waiters shake your hands as you leave, service formal but somehow chummy at the same time. Stepping out onto the bustling street, the sun bouncing off the pavement, those shiny limos still prowling the streets, we swore we’d return. But the truth is we were deliriously high on carbs.
Whether we make it back to SW3 or not, this is a solid three-star restaurant that’s worth hunting out if you find yourself in this singular postcode. Sure, it’s an international chain, and yes, it’s serving up classical Italian cooking without any twists – but it turns out innovation isn’t always everything.
The vibe: Fun, bright and glam Knightsbridge spot, perfect for people-watching and staycation holiday vibes.
The food: Easygoing Venetian plates to share.
The drink: From a short list of signature cocktails, try a white negroni, or fruity foam-topped vodka-based Tutti al Mare.
Time Out tip: Bag a table by the window so you can survey the goings-on both in the street and the room.
