Restaurants

By Jenni Muir

Four gold Chinese statuettes stand discreetly above the coffee-making alcove in Soho’s new bakery-café Princi, offshoot of an esteemed Italian chain. Do they have these in Princi’s original Milanese outlets? You can’t blame Alan Yau for wanting a little feng shui-style luck on his side. Best known for his wildly successful Asian eateries, his previous attempt at an Italian restaurant was the short-lived Anda on Baker Street back in 2003 (it’s now the much-loved Galvin Bistro de Luxe).

Yau’s grasp of Italian cuisine is not an issue here, for this new spot is a joint venture with Rocco Princi, sometimes called ‘the Armani of bread’. They clearly have great empathy with each other, and Armani, on the design front: Princi is a veritable symphony of beige. Despite a 19-metre water feature (more feng shui?) that at best evokes a spa, at worst an expensive urinal, it has that wonderfully sophisticated informality that has made Busaba Eathai such a treasure. And while extensive use of soothing limestone makes the hard surfaces of the modernist interior cosy, the expanse of glass cabinets displaying good things to eat – cakes, pizza, salads, hot meals – makes it irresistible.

Best of all the prices are very kind and sensibly on par with the food quality. Those custard-filled cannoncini are not 80p each but 80p for three. Same with the cookies. If our dish of chicken cacciatora was typical, it was almost enough to feed two, especially once you factor in the slices of bread included in the smart black-and-white paper bag holding napkin and bamboo cutlery. Get a side dish like the potato gratin, polenta or zucchine fritte and you have a feast.

The problem (leaving aside nabbing a seat during busy periods) is getting your meal together from the various counters before it turns cold. We waited so long for coffee that by the time we sat down our lasagne was tepid. Sensibly staff are making sure there are plenty of tasters available on the bakery counter to keep punters amused while they wait for service, who we have found on several visits to be friendly, intelligent and patient with all those people who invariably suffer option paralysis at the crucial point of ordering.

While Britain’s artisan bakers might look enviously on Princi’s decor and queues of customers, they need not panic about quality. Our loaf of rye bread was disappointing – when we finally made it through the tough crust there were huge, irregular holes in the crumb (normally the result of poor kneading). The American tart (based on cinnamon and nuts) was dry, and the apple Charlotte gummy. Still, there are plenty of restaurants who’d happily charge £6-£8 for the lush chocolate and coffee mousse that Princi sells for just £3.50.

In Italy Princi is open 24 hours a day. The London store is open until midnight and Yau’s team hope that in due course they’ll be able open earlier in the morning – around 7am. For breakfast, for lunch, during shopping, after work, after theatre, post-pub, post-cinema – London, you’ve just found your new favourite pit stop.

Time Out London Issue 1996: November 20-26