[1]

Why The Wolseley’s the one

What’s located at 160 Piccadilly probably isn’t big on breaking rules. But I must break some.

Unable to choose London’s best café, best bar or best restaurant (– as I’ve been asked to by Just Opened London), I’ll instead plump for all three. Because each of these actually has just one address. They’re all under one roof. They’re all at The Wolseley.

The second rule I reluctantly break -- this review will not be a gushy close-up of food and drink.

My refusal to serve up mouth-watering descriptions is partly because all of The Wolseley’s offerings are first-class, and it would be unfair to discriminate. Indeed, its à la carte menu of classics makes you beg the waiter for another two minutes to deliberate. Its timeless, bustling bar makes you order a round ahead, mentally. Its array of delightful tartlets makes you ask for a box to go home with.

But it’s not just about consuming. Everything else that enjoyable eating out should be is at The Wolseley. Splendid service, convivial atmosphere, warm interiors and (even) warm patrons. There’s also a sense of London; of Europe, of history. And a sense that wherever other Londoners are eating, they’re not having quite as grand a time as you.

That makes it an unbeatable place to take grown-ups new to London. Breakfast, brunch, cocktails? The Wolseley does it all -- with aplomb.

Once, someone I dined with at The Wolseley loudly complained that his steak knife felt a bit blunt. Told of the misdemeanour, our waiter dutifully returned with a silver tray. There, half a dozen ‘scythes’ lay -- fanned out, glistening.     

How The Wolseley does things stays with you. Others too. In my late grandfather’s home lies a dog-eared, faded ‘Time Out London’ book. After he would visit a featured restaurant, he’d cross out Time Out’s official star-rating and input his own. Not being keen on sketching stars, Henry scored restaurants out of 10 points. A score of 1; the worst. There are many with a 1. A score of 10; the best. There is only one -- The Wolseley.

Simon Moore

[2]

If you can’t find me, I’ll be at. . . Cin Cin

NAME: Cin Cin

IT’S: An 18-seater counter with a morcel of an open-kitchen, serving seasonal, authentic Italian fare, mostly on small plates.

It’s also a regular cleaner-uppper at Michelin’s Bib Gourmand awards.

IT’S NOT: Open Monday or Sunday, so double-check the day if you’re chancing a walk-in.

WHO: David Toscano, an Italian who quit both Sydney and lawyering to offer tiny dishes of handmade pasta out of a vintage van — thanks to chef Jamie Halsall.

WHERE: 13-16 Vine Street, BN1 4AG.

DID YOU KNOW? The respected chefs from nearby foodie darling The Set rate Cin Cin so highly that they recently had their Xmas dinner on this very counter!

Cin Cin is an Italian foodie’s delight, casually serving up cute takes on classics with a modern twist, plus panache.

A hand-written list of specials (on grease-proof cooking paper no less) adorns the wall, just inside this compact but not cramped eatery. It sets the tone, as quickly, cleverly-produced homemade Italian cuisine is the non-negotaible focus.

The Spot

Brighton’s Lanes are home to a growing number of versatile eateries, ideal for day-trippers, first dates or dinner with dad. Cin Cin caters for all those occasions -- and more, not least because its founder’s vintage van can be privately hired! The chugging van’s not on-site though — probably a good thing given freshly made pasta, Iberico hams and Italian cheeses, are.

To find Cin Cin from Brighton train station, venture into the lanes, come out the other side and go down a rather unloved-looking road (Vine Street). But once inside, you’ll be pleased you booked. Just 18 stools yet all equal in their view of proceedings -– Toscana distributing Halsall’s hard work whenever it’s ready.

Try the…

Beautifully presented Octopus Salad, delicately sweetened with blood orange. It’s the star of their Spring Menu, perhaps only outshon by a Rabbit Croquet. A fist-sized croquet though beware — clearly a size up from its ‘small plate’ bedfellows.

Then, the Pappardelle with locally farmed Ox cheek. Somehow it’s made to look exquisite, enticing and even light, concealing its earthy meatiness.

Another perfect fit for this Italian high-seater by England’s south coast is a delicious dish of mussels, infused with garlic, red wine, dill and nestled among Linguini. Incredibly simple to prepare, Halsall insists, but probably not to his exacting standards. Cin Cin’s silky pasta is hand-made on site every day. And its focaccia is baked just around the corner!

Wash it down with…

Cocktails. Prosecco is pushed a bit here, but my Negroni was more memorable. The Bellini’s not bad either. There’s also an entirely Italian wine list if you want to get serious.

The Damage

Specials range from £7.50 to £12.00, roughly the same as the handful of ‘secondi’ courses. Nibbles such as Nocellara del Belice olives come in at half that price tag. Accompany them with the Salumi sharing board (£14). Or turn up at lunchtime for their special — a bowl of pasta plus a beer for exactly a tenner on Tuesdays.

In their own words…

“Enjoy hand-made pasta served with sauces from across the regions, and seasonal dishes from our specials board. Double up and share with friends tapas-style, and don’t forget dessert.”

Simon Says…

Despite now having a Hove outpost, Cin Cin is a real hidden gem, easily getting away with offering just 18 seats because it’s just so darn tasty. Be ready to chat to those at your elbows and expect heartfelt direction from the Cin Cin team on what to order. It’s comfortably the best Italian in Brighton’s competitive restaurant scene.

Simon Moore