This is what happens when Italian technique is built on Japanese flavors. Osteria Angelina in London does not treat that as a party trick. It cooks like a proper northern Italian osteria and then reaches for kombu, truffle soy and furikake instead of the usual pantry, and it works far better than it has any right to. Family owned, open kitchen, and the pasta, the bread and the ice cream all made fresh in the restaurant every day.
You find it at 1 Nicholls Clarke Yard, tucked off Blossom Street where Spitalfields runs into the City. The room is a restored Victorian warehouse with four metre ceilings, exposed brick and big paper lanterns hanging over grey and white marble tables. Candles on every table, warm wood underfoot, and a huge open kitchen working at the back so you can watch the whole thing happen. The Japanese have a word for this style of cooking: itameshi, Italian food built on Japanese ingredients. Angelina in Dalston is the older sister and runs a set kaiseki menu. This one is the relaxed version. No dress code, no right way to order, everything meant for the middle of the table. You are allowed to use your hands.
We started with hamachi under truffle soy and furikake. Clean, cold, buttery fish, then that low savory hit of truffle and soy on top and the seaweed crunch of the furikake to finish. It sets the tone for the whole meal in one bite.
Then agretti tempura with bottarga and parmesan. Agretti is a grassy Italian green, the batter goes on light and shatters, and the bottarga and parmesan pile on salt and funk from two different seas and cellars at once. Two countries, one mouthful.
The Hokkaido milk bread arrives soft and pillowy with jam and burnt honey butter. Pull it apart while it is warm. The burnt honey does the heavy lifting, sweet and smoky at the same time.
Now the pasta, which is the reason to book. Tortellini with black truffle and kombu, where the kombu deepens the broth into something that tastes like it has been simmering for a week. Then fazzoletti, wide silky sheets of pasta folded through duck ragu, with crispy lotus root scattered on top for crunch. That texture contrast is the kind of detail you only get from a kitchen that thinks about both traditions properly.
Somewhere in the middle the nori focaccia lands, and you do the Italian thing. Tear it, wipe the plate, scarpetta. Seaweed baked into focaccia should not be this obvious, and yet here we are.
Ox tongue with kizami wasabi closes out the savory run. Tender, rich, deeply beefy, then the chopped wasabi cuts straight through it and resets your palate. On the side, sweet potato fries buried under parmesan and lime, and namayasai greens taken straight off the grill.
The list is as serious as the food. Around 300 Italian wines, a deep sake selection, cocktails that pull from both countries, and grappa and Japanese whisky when you want to sit a while longer. If you cannot decide, tell them what you ordered and let them steer.
This is a sharing restaurant, so bring people who order wide and pass plates. It works for a date because the room is dark, warm and genuinely good looking, and it works even better for four who want to cover the menu. Lunch runs Tuesday through Sunday, dinner every night, and it is worth booking rather than chancing a walk in. Order the pasta. Order the nori focaccia. Let the rest follow.
Italian technique, Japanese pantry, no compromise on either side. Osteria Angelina is one of the most confident things we ate in London, and the tortellini alone would get us back on a plane.
But now… the real question is… where do we go next?
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