Officina 00???s much-anticipated Covent Garden opening had been on my radar since March. The original pasta workshop in Old Street already had me in a chokehold ??? those spianatoia-shaped silky tagliatelle and dreamy panko lasagna bites have been living rent-free in my mind since I first tried them. So when I heard that founders Enzo Mirto and Elia Sebregondi were bringing their magic to the West End, along with something called a ???pizza in rutiello menu???, I cleared my calendar faster than you can say ???cacio e pepe.???
Tucked away on Dryden Street, the new Officina 00 is instantly inviting ??? raw steel and warm wood, bottle green accents, and that buzz of people who really love their carbs. And yes, the rutiello pizza is the star here. Picture a fluffy-crusted, pan-baked beauty ??? light, crisp, golden ??? served straight to the table in its baking tin like your Neapolitan nonna might have done. If you had one. I don???t, but I???m adopting the Officina team immediately.
There???s something charmingly unpretentious about it. It doesn???t arrive with fanfare or flourish ??? it just is, unapologetically rustic and impossibly good. The toppings change with the seasons, and on my visit, there was a tomato, spicy salami and hot honey combo that I would???ve tattooed on my arm if I could.
Of course, I couldn???t not order pasta. You can???t come to Officina 00 and skip it ??? it???s basically sacrilege. The in-house flour, milled with Wildfarmed and fully traceable (which feels oddly reassuring), creates a texture that???s just??? better. I went for the occhi with pork genovese and sour parsley pesto, which was earthy, herby, and felt like being wrapped in a woolly jumper of flavour. Quite fitting considering the summer we are having. My husband ordered the beef short rib rag??, and I spent most of dinner finding ways to steal his while pretending to listen to his crypto chat.
We started things off with the fried raviolo filled with cacio e pepe (think: crispy pasta pillow from heaven) and a few lasagna bites that could probably solve world peace if handed out liberally. I also had the Italian Margarita (the cocktail, not the pizza), which ??? speaking as someone who???s tried more than I should ??? might be my new favourite. Light, zesty, and dangerously drinkable.
For dessert, I caved and ordered the tiramisu. No regrets. None.
There???s something really special about this place. Maybe it???s the handmade everything. Maybe it???s the nostalgia-infused menu. Maybe it???s just the fact that every bite feels like someone???s cooked it for you, not at you.
As I rolled out of the restaurant, blissfully full and already plotting my next visit, I couldn???t help but think: this is what comfort tastes like. It???s truffle-dusted, it???s Neapolitan-rooted, and it???s sitting in a rutiello pan waiting to be devoured.
8-10 Dryden Street, London WC2E 9NA
