How do I politely explain that Lita, a glossy new spot in Marylebone, initially struck me as tremendously boring? Because here, after all, was the non-novelty of another “live fire” restaurant, a “neighbourhood bistro” and what feels like the city’s kajillionth venture broadly steeped in the cuisine of southern Europe. As a grab-bag of influences and touchstones in a hospitality landscape notably low on originality, it all seemed indistinct enough to have practically been produced by algorithm. And so I did the thing that I always do. Which is to say, I groaned wearily and resolved to ignore it.
You can sense where this is heading can’t you? One of the constants of this job, alongside the indigestion and the intractable weight gain, is that it keeps on acquainting you with all the new ways your hasty opinions can be thuddingly incorrect. So, having been reeled in by a growing number of rapt notices on my Instagram, I now know that my initial read on Lita could hardly have been wider of the mark. Yes, it orients itself around gutsy Mediterranean holiday food. Yes, quite a few dishes are drawn from the roaring heat of the open kitchen’s requisite brick oven. But Irish head chef Luke Ahearne’s cooking possesses a vigour, acuity and imaginative thrust that is nothing short of staggering. Lita (a pet form of abuelita, the Spanish word for grandmother) is genuinely breathtaking both in technique and, as we’ll come to, price. It’s an impeccably crafted, legitimate contender for launch of the year. And if the tyre-kickers at Michelin have anything about them then I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see it get a star before too long.
