Polpo

I made a delicious discovery at lunchtime: Polpo - a small, newish restaurant on Beak Street. I had been walking past it for weeks, admiring the vintage lace curtains and zinc-topped bar. But today I actually ate there: lots and lots of small, salty treats on tiny plates which they crowd onto your table. Fritto misto of squid and prawns; tiny crostini topped with anchovy and chickpeas; slices of rare steak and wild mushrooms; courgettes topped with fried breadcrumbs. I was really trying not to be greedy, because it was a work lunch and that would look wrong, but I kept loosing track of what he was saying because it was all so delicious. And when I have to do "sharing" plates I get low-level panic that I might have to fight for the last fried potato or roasted beetroot. I loved the interior, too - bare bricks, chipped tiles and stripped floorboards with lovely old school chairs and a few relaimed hooks for coats. It was full - packed, in fact - with unbelievably chic people who clearly eat there every day. I now want to be one of them.