Daroco, restaurant review: A bit OTT, very silly but undeniably delicious

With marbled tables, pleasure-palace mirrored ceilings and a sexy vibe, you’d be forgiven for thinking Daroco is part of that Parisian restaurant group serving Italian food in London. The fare here is a little more classic, with a few tricks up its sleeve

Daroco, Soho, eschews subtlety for sexy vibes (daroco)

Following its success in Paris with two restaurants and a cocktail bar in the 2nd and 16th arrondissements, founders Alexandre Giesbert, Julien Ross and Nico de Soto have opened Daroco, Soho. So, it’s a Parisian restaurant serving Italian food in London – sounds a little familiar, cough, Big Mamma, cough.

Add on velour seating, marble-effect tables, pleasure-palace mirrored ceilings and walls – a tad disorienting, I nearly collided with one on my way to the loo – loud music, a pizza oven adorned with blue butterflies and an all-round rather sexy vibe, you’d be forgiven for thinking it was part of the group. However, when it comes to the food, Daroco offers something a little more classic; albeit with a few tricks up its sleeve. There’s also a 50-seat dive bar below called, erm, Wacky Wombat, serving up cocktails from the imagination of De Soto that promises to be even more plush and ambient than upstairs.

It’s located in that slightly confusing part of recently renovated Soho, near the new-ish futuristic and in-your-face Tottenham Court Road station. The restaurant must know it’s slightly confusing as I’m sent a reminder text, letting me know that the entrance is on Manette Street. I’m sent another shortly before the meal that says I can let them know if I’m running late by replying and they’ll hold my table – a nice touch.

The arancini, filled with braised leek, scamorza and spicy peppers, are deceitfully light (Lilly Subbotin)

Sticking to the classic Italian layout of aperitivi, antipasti, le pizze, la pasta, secondi etc, there’s much to choose from, so I ask my charming and actually Italian waiter for some suggestions. Apparently must-tries are arancini and venison pappardelle. I have to say, upon eating, I agree.

The former, filled with braised leek, scamorza and spicy peppers, are genuinely exceptional, hot and crunchy outside, creamy and cheesy inside; they come straddling rich dollops of tomato sauce and are doused in piles of pecorino. They’re deceitfully light considering they’re fried balls of rice. The latter, a Genovese-style ragu, is really, really good. The use of venison over beef makes for a richer, earthier sauce. It silkily coats every strand of homemade pasta and is the sort of comforting, unpretentious food you’d expect from a little back-street trattoria in Italy, rather than the glitzy, ostentatiously decorated room I’m sat in.

My intrigue is piqued by a truffle pizza that costs forty English pounds, but they’re fresh out of that pesky fungus, so I go for a parmigiana. I absolutely adore fried aubergine as a pizza topping so my expectations are high. It arrives on a special china pizza stand (there had to be some theatre somewhere), putting itself on a literal pedestal, and in fairness, I’d say it’s worthy. The aubergine is soft to the point you could spread it like butter and the bread is pillowy and floppy; some might prefer a sturdier or crunchier base but I’m a big fan.

The fried aubergine on the parmigiana pizza is so soft you could spread it like butter (Lilly Subbotin)

Stuffed full of rice, pizza and pasta I couldn’t quite face a secondi, which include a caesar salad, parmigiana, hake and veal – but I’d be curious to try them another time if the other courses are anything to go by.

There are a couple of kinks that could be ironed out communication-wise – we were asked what we’d like for dessert before our mains arrived and given someone else’s starters, plus there was a slightly too long 15-minute wait between getting the desert menu and taking the order, but the staff were really lovely and generally seemed on top of things so I’d put it down to a minor off day.

As is required for the end of an Italian meal – and many non-Italian, these days – tiramisu. This one managed to look slightly unconventional without gilding the lily; a beautiful dome of thick yet somehow cloud-like mascarpone cream covers the savoiardi biscuits. Texturally, it’s one of the best tiramisus I’ve tried, which is something to be said of a well-trodden pud that often blends into one coffee-infused blur. A chocolate mousse is also great, drizzled in olive oil and nice and salty with a savoury crumb to add some bite.

Although the whole place is pretty OTT, flamboyant, bordering on gaudy, I had a bloody great time and loved all the food. The atmosphere is lively and it’s hard to not have a smile on your face. If you fancy something fun, a bit silly and reliably delicious, slap bang in the middle of W1, Daroco is it.

Around £140 for two people with wine

Daroco, Manette Street, London, W1D 4AL | 0208 143 6370 | www.daroco.com/en/daroco-soho