La Famiglia
7 Langton Street, SW10
Meal for two about £200
lafamiglia.co.uk
To really understand what La Famiglia proffers you have to regress back to when the King’s Road wasn’t teeming with new Eurotrash money, entrepreneurs and influencers, but a village of toffs. A time when Princess Diana, the Rolling Stones and that guy who kept a lion as a pet all lived on one SW10 road. A time before London went global, before Jamie’s Italian, Carluccio’s and Marco Pierre White. Where, if you were one of the lucky few who’d travelled to Italy and wanted to recreate that exotic experience at home, you’d go to La Famiglia. The premise is simple: real Tuscan food. Since it opened in 1976.
With its distinctive blue awning and bright blue and white gingham tablecloths, the restaurant has hardly changed in 50 years. Except the once intimate 45 covers have grown to 210, thanks to a generous covered outdoor terrace. Although the owner tells me they’ve now been banned from singing Happy Birthday out there because their new neighbours have complained.
The vibe is very much like popping over for dinner at your Italian aunt’s place (if she’s at her Chelsea townhouse and not skiing in Méribel).
I arrive with the dog. My date is late so the owner sets me up out front with champagne (£20 a glass) and a blue-and-white dish of water for the hound, as if he’s known both of us for years — although it’s our first time here. He gives my chocolate labrador so much fuss he looks like he might move in. They don’t just allow but adore dogs here — but then, being Chelsea, probably one in three customers has a lab.
A gallery of black and white photographs and more gingham tablecloths create a Tony Soprano vibe
Inside, a gallery of black and white photographs and more gingham tablecloths create a Tony Soprano vibe, like many of the best old-school Italian spots in London. But despite the Tuscan decor and almost-authentic Tuscan waiters (global but Italian in style) the scene inside is unmistakably old-school Chelsea. Less Forte dei Marmi, more like dining in the pages of Country Life.
Looking around the dining room everyone could be related — perhaps they are, with toffs it’s so hard to tell.
Loud chatter, laughter and guffaws rise from circular tables packed with families dining en masse. If you live in Chelsea, it’s compulsory to come here for at least one family birthday a year. Meanwhile, waiters fuss around us, so charming, sweet and friendly, even a misanthrope like me might soften.
The food is the same mothering experience. Untouched by the ravages of time or food trends — carb-free diets and miniscule Ozempic portions have all passed La Famiglia by (though they do offer gluten-free pasta). The menu — whitebait, chicken liver pate, carbonara — looks like it was written in the 1970s, which it was. It’s comfort food that doesn’t just take you back to the 1970s, but to the womb. We (the date, not the dog) order the carcio fritto (deep-fried artichoke), burrata with baby plum tomatoes; then cappelletti cacio e pepe, osso buco with saffron risotto and fried zucchini on the side.
The cacio e pepe is a perfect creamy and salty combination
I feel almost guilty reviewing the food. Like critiquing your aunt’s Sunday roast. And frankly the food feels beside the point — it’s not why anyone in this boisterous dining room comes. This isn’t destination dining, everyone here lives nearby and have been feasting on the same hearty, yummy, forgettable food here for decades.
The starters offer no surprises —although the artichoke is greasier than I would have liked. Portions are generous, the ingredients fresh. You can tell the velvety pasta is homemade and the cacio e pepe is a perfect creamy and salty combination. The osso buco is disappointing. It’s dry as a pork chop and served on a risotto the consistency of rice pudding (which perhaps appeals to diners raised on boarding school dinners). We skip the famous dessert trolley, opting instead for some biscotti, but make up for it from the fantastic wine list — although beware drinking is where the old money starts biting and homey turns spenny. Somehow, four glasses of champagne later the bill for two hits £240.
Still, if you can afford it, you could cosily eat here every day. I suspect, how you feel about La Famiglia reveals how you feel about Chelsea itself.
What you say
In Carbs We Trust
“Still thinking of the amazing dinner we had at La Famiglia. Their carbonara and aubergine parmigiana cloud my dreams to this day.”
The Famished Foodies
“Happy Saturday foodies. If you’re on the hunt for a homely, vibey Italian, look no further… @lafamiglia.sw10 is your place.”
Ivy Inspires
“La Famiglia is a little piece of Tuscany in the heart of Chelsea. Run by one of the greatest Italian restaurateurs in London, it has remained a firm favourite since the early 1980s.”
