Spirit of Little Italy lives on at £10 pasta joint

Soho is past its best, same as it ever was. Romanticising a faded bohemia is part of the deal: there was always a time before when the celebs were more famous, the nights were longer, and everything was cheaper.

- DAVID ELLIS RESTAURANT CRITIC

Rose-tinted specs have hidden everything, even the damp patches that darkened the trousers of the Eighties soaks who arrived at the pub before the landlord. Some things we are lucky to have left behind, then. But not everything. I long for those old Italian restaurants painted red, white and green with grissini on every table. I remember an old waiter who nodded thoughtfully when we asked for bruschetta, grabbed his coat and returned with a baguette, tomatoes and a bulb of garlic. “We don't get asked for that too often round 'ere,” he said.

These places were cheap, stayed open late and one on Greek Street used to let people smoke indoors. Chianti was poured unironically from big bottles in straw baskets. They were perhaps the last truly egalitarian restaurants in W1, filled with post-show dancers and drag queens, hacks in there to drink, and people like me, who knew Soho but sought a proper introduction.