Pophams isn’t just a pasta restaurant, it’s a lifestyle. No, honestly! The Insta-infamous east London bakery first rose into doughy life on the backstreets of Islington in 2017. It wasn’t long until their signature maple bacon croissant would bring them flakey fame, with Nigella Lawson singing its sweet and sticky praises. Now they’re an institution, with an additional bakehouse in Victoria Park and this London Fields location, which does bread-based duties by day and sit-down dinners at night. Add to this elite trio their artisan brand Pophams Home, which specialises in lovely, albeit expensive, bits for the house (showy ceramic mugs, £58 scented candles and butter knives tenderly carved from walnut) as well as workshops in masking tape mycology (yes, that’s making mushrooms out of sticky tape) and you’ve got yourselves something bordering on what could comprise a dangerously smug cult.
Lamb cannelloni lounged provocatively on a bed of bagna cauda, draped with soft, slow cooked friggatelli peppers like some kind of reclining Modigliani nude
Which is why Pophams, The Evening Pasta Edition, is far more restrained and relaxed than it has any right to be. On the old site of Ducksoup’s dearly departed sibling Rawduck, Pophams takes Scandi chic full circle, returning it to the height of lowkey elegance, with smooth concrete surfaces as far as the eye can see and mid century-style benches in delicately turned wood. On a Thursday evening the room is abuzz, but in an extremely discreet way. There’s a table of vaguely recognisable telly actors here, a couple (probably) discussing their favourite Real Housewives of Clapton meme there and a group of extremely well-behaved mates celebrating a birthday. It’s ultra convivial but never rowdy. A wedding proposal here wouldn’t be out of the question, but neither would the signing of divorce papers, or the hiring of a new creative director for an extremely niche Danish linen trouser brand. This is a room for all eventualities.
Such adaptability isn’t just down to the room’s marvellously mellow mood, but Pophams’ exceptional food. It seems clangingly obvious to mention the heroic house sourdough, so we’ll skip straight onto the main event. There are five pasta dishes on offer and we plough through three of them between two, as per our friendly server’s recommendation. Doppio ravioli, split exactingly with half filled with beetroot, the other with potent gorgonzola – was obscenely indulgent, swimming in a pool of liquid butter, while luscious lamb cannelloni lounged provocatively on a bed of smoked anchovy bagna cauda, draped with soft, slow cooked friggatelli peppers like some kind of reclining Modigliani nude. Cappellacci with black olive and goat cheese was equally outstanding, and, importantly, al dente, but not too al dente. Don’t know your casoncelli from your orecchiette? Totally fine; there’s a handy pasta shape and style guide on every table.
Pophams then, not quite a cult, but if they ever want to bring out a range of matching robes and start hosting linguine-adjacent meditation classes in the park, we’ll be the first to sign up.
The vibe An ideal neighbourhood restaurant, with a handful of perfect pasta dishes and an extremely chill ambience.
The food Pasta is the main draw, but make room for a sleek selection of starters and snacks, with the likes of oak smoked trout pate, and fried palline al parmigiano with lovage and speck.
The drink Decent wines abound, but the blood orange spritz was the best thing we’ve drunk for ages, a sweet and tart concoction of sparkling wine, limoncello and a splash of rhubarb.
Time Out tip Order two pasta dishes to yourself. Don’t share. Don’t be shy.