My regular readers, all four of them, will remember that by the time I visited Big Mamma’s fourth restaurant, Jacuzzi, in South Kensington, a fifth one had just been announced.  You loyal masses might also remember that I wasn’t overly fussed about rushing there, given that I had regarded Jacuzzi to be more of the same as the group’s other three restaurants, which isn’t exactly terrible feedback given how spectacular their food generally is.  However, when it comes to food, it’s nice to zig when the world zags, and something different is always welcomed. That said, a new Big Mamma restaurant is a new Big Mamma restaurant, and a couple of weeks ago I found a spot at Carlotta for lunch one Saturday.  To celebrate this, we apparently had to stuff our faces with brunch only ninety minutes before the reservation.

Carlotta is located at the northern end of Marylebone High Street.  Not much to look at from the outside, its signage is akin to an amusement arcade in Brighton.  Inside though, it’s a different story.  The vibe is Goodfellas, Italian American, ostentatious, needless, goofy, and whimsical (the restaurant is an homage to “…the Italians who packed up their bags, recipes and heritage and took them across the pond to create a wealth of new Italian cultures”).   The myriad of rooms are lined with comfy booths, cozy enough for two but large enough for four.  The walls are draped, the lights are dimmed, and you’re surrounded by shades of brown and burgundy, and vintage décor.  Upstairs, in the bathroom, a communal soap and water basin is crowned with an illuminated statue of the Virgin Mary.  Carlotta is very cool, and we instantly agreed it’s the best-looking Big Mamma restaurant, and that’s saying something.

Getting moved from a booth near a -shudders- baby was faffy because it mildly inconvenienced the surly host, but after that we settled down with a couple of strong cocktails, partly because that’s our pre-lunch ritual, and partly because we were still needing to desperately digest brunch.  They were fab.  The European’s ‘Sunset Sour’ won.  Why wouldn’t it?  It was a sweet and sour sucker punch of Wild Turkey, apricot Merlet, Primitivo, citrus, and dill.  My ‘Rossini’ wasn’t half bad.  Strawberry-infused Amaro Savoia, cranberry, and Champagne made it a little on the sweet side, but it was still light and just what my distended tummy ordered.  Later, with the food, we took a couple of glasses of wine.  My Pinot Nero Mimuet was presented in the baddest-ass goblet you ever did see.

Carlotta’s menu is a little different from other Big Mamma restaurants.  It is hearty, rustic, and simple, full of the kind of homely or slightly off-key choices you might associate with what the cuisine offers outside of Italy.  The food is decadently presented and comes in American-sized portions.  The European struggled with it, partly because it’s simply not her kind of cooking, partly because she was not hungry, and partly because some of it was downright bland.

We shared Burrata di Puglia, olives and some sourdough to start. The burrata comes naked, accompanied with thali bowls full of garnishes for you to adorn your share of the cheese as you see fit.  It was good, but not the best burrata we have eaten.  We did enjoy the unique conviviality of dressing it though.  The olives were olivey and the sourdough was sourdoughy.

Afterwards, The European had pasta alla vodka with Cornish crab and clams.  I ordered the chicken parmigiana that was the size of a large gourd, atop a tomato sauce as rich as pre-meltdown Henry Hill.  Inside, all was well.  A moist chicken, breast, a little bit of oozing mozzarella, all wrapped in Parma ham.  I enjoyed it with a side of layered potato chips, but these were extremely dry.  The Henry Hill sauce took care of that.

The European was less sold on her pasta.  The seafood was fresh and tasty, but the tomato sauce was watery and had no taste of vodka, let alone tomatoes.  She stole spoonfuls of Henry Hill sauce to give it some substance.

By now we were so full I couldn’t move.  So, it was only right that we took dessert.  The European ordered what looked to be the lightest thing on the menu: berries and cream.  Nope.  The cream was crazy, as you might expect.  Sweetened and whipped to within an inch of its life, it was spooned over the berries in abundance.  Yearning for fresh strawberries and raspberries and nothing else, my better half was despondent.  Also, she wasn’t given any raspberries.  I grabbed my spoon and helped her through the wonderful mess of cream. 

My dessert was called ‘Carlotta’s Wedding Cake’.  A layered cake of almond Génoise sponge, raspberries (included this time), and lychee and hibiscus coulis, it was served in one of those plastic collar things which, when the server pulled it up and off the cake, released a liquid icing and crunchy meringue.  Eating it was like an out-of-body experience.  Even the European said it was tasty.

By now, even if our bodies objected, we needed to walk, so we settled up and ran away.  I thought Carlotta was a great lunch; I forgave some its culinary misses, being happily led astray by its crazy menu, vibe, and décor that enthusiastically nods to simpler times and/or Scorsese movies.  Ultimately, it’s a very ‘me’ restaurant.  The European enjoyed it in the moment but in her eyes, time wasn’t kind to this lunch at all.  A few days later, I asked her to rank Big Mamma’s five restaurants.  She offered: #1: Jacuzzi, #2: Gloria, #3: Circolo Popolare, #4: Ave Mario, #5: Carlotta, with the latter being labelled “Not even worth mentioning”. 

I ranked Carlotta second (#1: Gloria, #2: Carlotta, #3: Circolo Popolare, #4: Jacuzzi, #5: Ave Mario).  I loved Carlotta but there is something so special about Gloria.  Debate these very different lists all you want, but you won’t get a bad meal in any of these five restaurants, and all I have to add is a) don’t have a big lunch shortly after a big brunch, and b) finding ‘win-win’ is central to all successful relationships.  So, we can dinner date at Gloria next time, or I will just run away to Carlotta by myself and stick my head in their chicken parm or the wedding cake.  Cheating with food isn’t cheating, is it?

Visited on 19^th August 2023.

Starters, mains, and desserts for two, a round of cocktails, and a round of wine, came to just under £two hundred.