Padella (Carbohydrate delight and a tin of G&T)

Queuing for a restaurant in Borough. Really? On my first visit – a chilly, blustery day not long after Padella opened – we survived the wait by fortifying ourselves with warming, pre-queue drinks. The second time, Laura – resourceful co-founder of the Lardy Ladies – nipped to the local shop for some tins. Classy!

On both visits, we were rewarded with a table tucked away downstairs, rather than a perch at the counter, thus avoiding the hostile stares of those still enduring the queue. Undeserved really, as I dished out those stares with the best of them.

Any twinge of sadness about the loss of the site’s previous tenant, the late, great bakery Degustibus – their goats cheese and chargrilled vegetable panino lives on in my memory – was overcome by the prospect of a carb-y delight of pasta, made on site.

Serious, closed-eye concentration required to get the order right!

First up burrata, doused in a fruity oil, and a meltingly soft salami (“oh my god!” – Caroline).

Burrata (nibbled before I remembered to take the picture) and “oh my god” salami

Even the ‘beans on toast’ were rich and creamy.

Beans. They don’t photograph well.

On my first visit, egged on by our waiter, Laura (D), Catherine and I added a plate of pasta “for the table”.  No such subterfuge for the Lardy Ladies – we just ordered a ton and kept the plates circulating round the table until not a morsel was left. No need for a tasting menu when your customers order everything!

Caroline declared the gnudi a “religious experience”. “The balls were lovely”, apparently. I’m crediting that comment to Liz.

Gnudi, a dish of religious rapture

Delicate ricotta-filled ravioli, served with butter and sage and a hint of lemon was a highlight of both visits, and Laura and Trish’s overall favourite.

Delicate ravioli

Its wholly unsubtle opposite number, pasta smothered with nduja, divided opinion both times. Not unlike “a kick in the face”, we decided, and with a numbing effect on the tastebuds, and yet not a single strand or  smudge of sauce went to waste.  Caroline ranked it her overall favourite.

Assault by nduja!

On my first visit I’d had serious food-envy of Catherine’s fat, rib-sticking pici, a dish that made me feel simultaneously full, and craving more of that gloriously gloopy cheese and pepper sauce. She found it “almost too peppery”, then ate the lot. Need I say that the Lardies likewise polished it off without difficulty?

Pici – wormlike but delightful

(In between the scoffing and the pass-the-parcel style of sharing out the food, a lot of “oh my gods” were being bandied about in true Lardy style.)

A seasonal special of thick, firm ribbons of pasta with asparagus and lemon was a pleasant dish on my first visit, but better-quality asparagus on visit two cranked it up to bloody amazing. It was gone all too soon, and rivalled the pici as my favourite dish.

Asparagus heaven

I even loved the pasta with eel – which tasted rather baconish. Liz concluded her favourites had been “eel and balls”!

Baconish eel

No one picked the dexter ragu – a rich stew heaped over pappardelle – as their favourite, but no one had a bad word to say about it either, and none went to waste.

Loved, but no one’s favourite

After so much pasta, spurning pudding seemed a pointless sacrifice…

On visit number one, pastry-queen Catherine was dubious about sharing two slices of pudding between three (I reckon she’d have been happy with one each and one for the table!) so after a bite each, we left her to the mystery ‘nespole’ tart.  (Our waiter didn’t know the translation and went with sour apricot; I now realise it’s medlar, recalling a Lardy outing of yesteryear). The buttery pastry met Catherine’s exacting standards, and the filling – though more almond than nespole/medlar – did too.

‘Nespole’ tart

It was a hit too with “very happy” Trisha, official pudding adjudicator of the Lardy Ladies, on visit two. I prefered the chocolate tart, which worked out well for me – less competition! And very inexpensive (for London!) at £4 each.

Chocolate tart

Scanning back over my scrawled notes, I find that I have omitted how happy “chilled glasses” made us, and thereby recall that there was prosecco. And nero d’avola. And happiness – but then that was obvious.

Eva

Padella, 6 Southwark St, London SE1 1TQ http://padella.co/ @padella_pasta