In the quiet passing of time, there is a tendency for romance to fade without so much as a whisper. Do not let this become so at Casa Italiana, London’s oldest Italian social club. It has been on Clerkenwell Road since 1960, unchanging as skyscrapers rise and suits become desperately ill-fitting. It’s had a hard year: financial strife.
It’s known simply as The Club, a little venue where post-war immigrants and the generations since come together to dance and sing, cook and cavort. In years past, The Club was open almost every day. Children would be left there to play snooker, cause mischief and buy sweets from the snack bar; on match days, perhaps when Juventus were playing, members would watch la Vecchia Signora (the Old Lady) with a beer; and on Sundays, it was — and gracefully still is — part of a ritual: church, shop, coffee. Fiercely good coffee, by the way. St Peter’s Catholic church remains next door, as does Terroni, London’s first Italian deli.
