VA PENSIERO

Va Pensiero

I wonder whether anyone else has noticed what seems to be happening to “Italian” restaurants? Not the traditional back-street trattoria with red gingham tablecloths and chianti bottles made into lamps, but the chains of restaurants with supposedly Italian names which occupy glossy premises on our high streets (or St.Martin’s Lane, or Paddington Central, to be precise). They are developing a cuisine entirely their own, which is now only loosely based on Italian, and involves adding chilli to almost everything. Some time ago I decided to avoid one chain after being served a pizza that was fearsomely over-chillied, but recently I visited another, twice with different friends, and realised that this one had now become no fun any more. Every dish was over-elaborate, and most of them involved chilli; what are “piquillo chilli pearls” by the way? One of my friends, unattracted by anything on the menu, asked whether they couldn’t do a steak with mashed potato (something was served with mash, and a steak salad was advertised), but it turned out this was impossible. “The steak is sliced in the salad” was the answer. “Surely you could just take one and cook it and not slice it?” but that was not possible. Clearly the “steak” arrives at the “restaurant” ready cooked and sliced. These places are not restaurants, but serveries. I wish they’d grasp, though, that Italian cooking doesn’t involve chilli. Ever. Yes, there’s a bit in that Calabrian sausage, ‘Nduja, that they are so keen on, but you never see that on a menu in most of Italy, and chilli is just never added to normal food. I am told that this is all a response by the corporate owners of these chains of restaurants to what their market research tells them that British people want, which is sugar and chilli with everything. I must clearly stick to the old-fashioned type of Italian, but the trouble is finding one in a convenient location which can actually accommodate you.

In Kilburn

I joined our neighbours at St.Augustine’s, Kilburn, for their Patronal Festival last week, which was a good do. We processed through the streets reciting the rosary, and it was interesting how people responded. Mostly people had no reaction whatsoever, and one gentleman in particular made it very clear that he wasn’t going to go round us, so we should go round him. There weren’t that many people about, but we attracted neither reverence, nor astonishment. It as all quite matter-of-fact. Oh, just some more crazies… We passed the ruins of the Carlton Tavern, illegally demolished by its speculative owners, but I’d better not say more, as the Planning Tribunal has just met to consider the owners’ claim to overturn Westminster City Council’s order that they should reinstate it, and while it’s not technically sub judice, apparently everyone was warned against doing anything to influence the decision while it is awaited.

On Oxford Street

I also joined All Saints, Margaret Street, for their Corpus Christi celebrations last week, which involves the procession of the Blessed Sacrament going down onto Oxford Street. We had a brass ensemble, as well as a choir, and a congregation of about a hundred, so there was lusty singing. We were greeted mostly by frank astonishment from those having after-work drinks outside the many bars. Just occasionally a tourist (of Latin origin) would drop to their knees or cross themselves when catching sight of the Blessed Sacrament in the monstrance, but mostly they stared or took photos of this unexpected local colour, for which their guidebooks had not prepared them. It was actually a powerful act of witness (and very well organised by the parish, with marshals in high-vis tabards, and even a doctor on hand) and an assertion of Christian identity. Outdoor processions are rather interesting in terms of social anthropology, because they are about territory, and asserting ownership of it, as well as identity. You only take a church procession out onto the street when you feel confident that you won’t be attacked (or that you can cope if you are) and that you will make a good show. Here, we process along the Harrow Road on Palm Sunday (going from St.Mary Mags to St.Peter’s), which works quite well, though it would be much improved by a brass band. Perhaps I can encourage the primary school brass players I heard last week…