Bella Vista (Restaurant)

Remember when Gordon Ramsey toured the UK to find the best local restaurant – taking in regional cuisines like Italian, Chinese and Indian – for the F Word last year? I highly doubt he personally visited each and every single one of the 10,000 restaurants nominated by the public. Although to be one of the lowly researchers eating your way round Britain while the Botoxed swearing machine looks after his empire would have actually been a pretty sweet job. Pay me in food, not money, Gord!

Anyway, do you also remember Prosecco from Bristol that spent a day in the F Word kitchen battling it out to be crowned the best Italian restaurant in the country? As a true gastronaught with a boyfriend living in Bristol I demanded a table there upon my next visit and was rewarded with rustic dishes with an innovative twist. A terrific Italian restaurant.

Fast-forward to 2010 and back in London I recently visited a restaurant that very pleasantly smacked of Prosecco’s style and success.

Enter Bella Vista, a charming restaurant in Blackheath village (I didn’t know where it was either – it’s just past Lewisham in south-east London, for all you fellow ignorant ‘norf of the river’ diners).

Even though it lacks a post-watershed ‘this is what cooking is f***ing all about’ endorsement on Channel 4, it gets my vote as one of the best Italian restaurants in London. Its immense popularity and dreamy dishes concocted by chefs that have previously worked at Michelin-starred restaurants make this a vibrant restaurant, which in turn more than justifies the long trip from Dalston to Blackheath.

Said boyfriend was lured away from Bristol to sample Bella Vista’s treats and together we chomped our way through most of the menu. The salads were gorgeous (the colourful Insalata Primavera with perfectly cooked soft-boiled egg was a high point), the pastas fresh and inventive (whoever heard of marrying goose, walnut, grape and ravioli? But somehow it worked), while the meat and fish were well seasoned and moist.

One of our sides, the polenta chips, was slightly disappointing and tasted like a bland rice cracker, but the others (yes, we ordered them all) were delicious and I was upset that I couldn’t finish all our savoury dishes as dessert beckoned. The pannacotta with strawberry and basil was a triumph and better than the tiramisu which needed a splash more booze.

So what of the staff and the surroundings? The waiters were attentive and efficient and on hand to translate bits of the menu as well as recommend dishes (the pannacotta was a recommendation and our waiter wasn’t lying when he said it was one of the best puds in town). The restaurant is homely with a stone floor and cream and brown finishings. It’s a long, narrow venue, so it’s best to request a table at the front by the window when booking.

I think the music piped out included songs like Me and Mrs Jones and Barry White anthems, but really all I was thinking about was what to eat next and cooing over the rich flavours and pretty presentation.

If you come here for dinner, don’t eat lunch that day. And clear your diary the next day so you can just laze about purring ‘I’m so full’ until about 4pm when you’ll feel vaguely hungry again. Don’t get me wrong; this isn’t some kind of greasy American diner where your starter is the size of a main course. But everything on the menu sounds so good and tastes so damn good that it would just be rude, and not really in keeping with the Italian culture of feasting, not to order three courses. With sides. And dessert wine. And an espresso, of course.
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