8 hours ago
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Does the area around Sloane Square in central London really need another fancy, Italian-leaning restaurant that serves up tortellini in brodo and veal Milanese? Well, yes, apparently it does. One Saturday lunchtime late last year at Martino’s was hectic even in the delightful reception area, where we were waiting to check in a coat with the elegantly uniformed front-of-house ladies. All the tables in this hot new all-day brasserie were booked and busy, and plenty of walk-ins were champing at the bit for cancellations.
Actually, “delightful reception” is not a phrase I’ve often uttered, or even thought, but this is a Martin Kuczmarski restaurant, so the small things tend to add up to a larger picture – this cocoon-like holding pen keeps would-be queuers away from the diners. Why was I so charmed by this weird, crisply officiated bends chamber that operates as a liminal space between the real grubby world outside and the glitzy, sexy, mock-Italian trattoria inside? Well, it turns out that’s because it solved a problem that I didn’t even realise I had.
If you’ve been to Kuczmarski’s other restaurant, the Dover in Mayfair, you’ll be aware that this is the kind of hospitality for which his team strives – a rather old-school notion that restaurants should be pure, glamorous, fragrant escapism. The Dover serves cold martinis, lobster rolls and meatballs, but, just as importantly, it also has great lighting that momentarily diffuses a double chin, and pretty cutlery that makes a woman feel as if her hands are somehow daintier. At Martino’s, there are white tablecloths, an ox-blood floor, candle-lit tables and an elegant central bar where one can drink a garibaldi or negroni sbagliato and eat plates of zucchini fritti while seeing and being seen. Mind you, it is a rather conspicuous place to sit, so don’t bring an illicit lover here; if your lunch plans include a side portion of skulduggery, may I suggest one of the gorgeous half-booths at the back?
That said, Martino’s would also be the perfect place for a family meet-up because, while it’s cool, it’s also rather laidback, and the menu won’t frighten even the tamest of diners. Think fried gnocchi with salumi, beef fillet carpaccio with pecorino cream, and ribollita with cannellini beans and rosemary potato bread. This menu is in no way pretentious and, with its margherita pizzas and tricolore chicken salads, it veers at times into the realms of a Zizzi or a Spaghetti House.
Still, despite the food not seeming to be quite as important as it might be, especially compared with the vibes, conviviality and general aesthetic prettiness of the place, it’s actually still pretty good. Tonno tonnato – thinly sliced seared tuna in a creamy, caper-based sauce – had all the right levels of sweet, zesty acidity, and some warm, pillowy focaccia was the perfect accompaniment. Tortellini in brodo comes with an extra jug of the rather delightful broth, while the pasta itself is uniformly pretty and stuffed with nicely seasoned pork and beef. We also ate the house tagliatelle with soft, braised short rib ragu and pleasing notes of chilli and parmesan.
Branzino all’acqua pazza turns up in a large, stainless-steel platter with the sea bass fillet perched on a tomato sauce that could have done with a bit more punch, though I did have it with some very good garlic, pine nut and chilli-strewn broccoletti. One of the most dramatic dishes was the veal Milanese, which comes heavily breaded and on the bone, and resembling nothing so much as something Thor, God of Thunder, might have as a snack.
That last is a dish for those with big appetites, perhaps with a side of rosemary patate al forno and – hell, why not? – followed by a bowl of warm lemon and vanilla custard doughnuts. We, on the other hand, went for the crespelle al pistacchio, a semi-warm crepe clogged with green pistachio sauce and pistachio ice-cream. Is pistachio still on trend? Didn’t we already reach peak pistachio? Martino’s doesn’t care, and is currently serving up bowls of this sweet, emerald stodge by the shedload. Also decent is the torta al cioccolato, which, ignoring the Italian name, is essentially just a passably decent, damp almond and cocoa sponge with a dark chocolate mousse.
Martino’s is already beautiful bedlam just a few weeks after opening, and its location is so fantastically convenient and its reputation already so heady that I expect it to settle in as a useful 2026 spot for glam, pre-theatre dinners and gossipy evenings, as well as a canteen for rich locals who can’t find their own kitchens, let alone open their own fridges. With a few deftly placed napkins and some strategically served spaghetti, Kuczmarski makes ordinary people feel temporarily like movie stars. Long may he reign.
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Martino’s The Willett Building, 37 Sloane Square, London SW1, 020-3908 7300. Open all week, lunch noon-2.30pm (last booking), dinner 5.30-10.30pm (10pm Sun; last booking). From about £60 a head for three courses à la carte, plus drinks & service
