For me, Soho truly is the best area to go out. Its reputation is sufficiently murky to dissuade most part-timers and tourists, leaving it as the Londoners’ playground. The chain restaurants know to stay away as this is the home of the passion-project, the owner-run, the quirky and the compelling.
As a member of a Dean Street club, I must have walked past ‘40 Dean Street’ hundreds of times, but this week I felt the need to try this renowned stalwart of pasta. One of a family of three in the area, each with their own individuality, it is the love child of executive chef and restaurateur Nima Safaie, a Londoner with a lifelong passion for Italian cuisine.
With dark blue paint, exposed brickwork and a heavy curtain at the door, it’s cosy, intimate, and welcoming. Fluted globe pendants bring a gentle sparkle to the room while raw timber floors, grey marble tabletops, and a carefully selected range of rustic ceramics frame the food. Oh, and no music – what a treat!
The staff are warm, passionate and engaging. Rather than a multigenerational crew from a single Italian family, this is classic Soho, the team originating from all corners of the globe.
It was 6pm on a Friday and the place was filling up fast – time for a cocktail or two. The sweet blood orange martini is teamed with bergamot, that peculiarly fragrant and bitter citrus from Calabria, and it’s a winner. Meanwhile, the classic Negroni lacked depth, probably made with Martini Rosso but, hey, this is a restaurant not a cocktail bar.
I refuse to admit it’s autumn yet, so chose a bottle of Grande Bauquière rosé; pale, citrus and fruity.
As menus go, this one is extensive: 12 starters, 19 mains, which is both brave and unusual.
I started with arancini of goat’s cheese and beetroot, which are handsome and delicious, lifted by tomato jam. Then to another favourite, tempura of stuffed courgette flower with ricotta truffle paste and honey drizzle. The stuffing was fantastic (when I make it it’s always too garlicky), though the tempura failed to crisp quite as you’d hope. Still, a treat.
Mozzarella garlic bread was in attendance for mopping purposes.
All the pasta (for which they are famous) is made by hand each morning, and you can tell. So, sidestepping the pizzas and oven dishes, this is where we went:
Pappardelle with beef and tomato ragu was exceptional – tight, tender chunks of beef, deep in flavour in a rich, intense sauce with halved cherry tomatoes adding sweetness and acidity.
Ravioli of lobster was wonderful, cooked to retain its bite and with the fresh greenness of samphire, served in a light creamy bisque.
Significantly beaten by this stage, we shared a Pistachio Tiramisu. It’s more to the New York style than the creamy versions you get in Italy – sliced rather than spooned.
By the time we left, the place was utterly heaving, and there was a real Friday feeling in the room. This is a great fun restaurant, keenly priced by today’s standards, and I will return soon, even if only for the pappardelle.
The restaurant is, unsurprisingly, at 40 Dean St, London W1D 4PX
Monday to Thursday: 12.00Ppm to110.00pm, Friday and Saturday: 12.00pm – 11.30pm; Sunday and Bank Holidays: 12.00pm – 10.30pm
