Review: Berluskoni’s, Stables Market

Clambering up the over-deep steps (built like that for the horses, you know), the psy trance and noodle-hawking hubbub soon fades. Through a heavy door, the vaulted space feels like a genuine oasis, set deep at the heart of Camden’s warren of repurposed Victorian stable blocks.

We’d been invited for lunch at Berluskoni’s, a “rustic” Italian restaurant serving, er, American-sized portions with an overtly cheeky nod to Italy’s premier bunga bunga man. In fact there’s a whole wall of comedic photos of the disgraced former PM to giggle at on the way to the loos.

We slide into a booth though, enjoying some peace after the elbows and infuriating slow walks in the alleyways en route. It’s sure to be jumping here in the evenings, when Cuban Bar customers drag themselves away from the 100+ rums downstairs for a bite to eat, but lunch is an altogether more leisurely affair.

Perfect for a civilised cocktail, in fact. And as befits an operation with booze pedigree under the same roof, the negronis prove to be on point, and priced very reasonably just under the £7 mark.

With a pizza titled ‘the works’ and some vast sharing boards among the choices, the menu quickly reveals its generous ambition. Sure enough, a panzanella salad arrives heaving with artichokes, olives and oil-drenched bread. It’s very good to share, but we quiver slightly in realisation that it also comes in a larger helping as a main.

With only a couple of pasta dishes on offer, this Italian is all about the pizzas. Other than the twin staples – margherita and pepperoni – they are actually an incongruously exotic bunch, reaching far beyond the boot of Sicily to conjure up oriental, South American and smoky southern chicken among the choices. Not quite rustic, then.

Our Italo-with-a-twist Carbonara pizza combines sweet caramelised onions, fluffy egg and quality, wafer-thin ham to great effect. The base is a chunkier affair than these delicate toppings really warranted – too chunky, really – and although the dough’s light enough, it’s all a bit too much.

Whole oven-baked sea bass is a herby and decent alternative, accompanied by moreish rosemary and chilli roast potatoes. Lots of them. We also quaff Spanish Las Camelias by the glass, the one thing that’s a little too easy to polish right off.

Then comes the dessert menu, and if anything, it ups the oversized ante. Our jaws drop at the 12-scoop, 10-topping sharing bonanzas offered at £14.95 (a serious pudding, no matter how many spoons it comes with). These rub alongside a cavalcade of sundaes and ‘adults only’ liqueur-drenched indulgences. And that’s before you even come to the dessert pizzas.

Beguiled by their quirky appeal, we somehow end up with two of these twelve inch badboys. A Nutella and strawberry one is like an open mega-crepe, proudly boasting no less than five scoops of ice cream on top for good measure. The fruit pizza works better: vanilla pods beaten into a thick mascarpone sauce, dotted with blueberries, grapes and more for the rainbow topping.

It’s difficult to imagine anyone realistically eating more than a slice if they’ve just polished off a pizza main, particularly as these share the same substantial bases as their savory counterparts. So the pudding emphasis is firmly on kiddie-friendly sharing and a post-market, dessert-only crowd.

With Marine Ices now a shadow of its cherished former self, the destination ice cream crown in Chalk Farm has been handed to nearby Chin Chin Labs, so will these creations be able to eat into their nitrogen-fuelled market? Maybe. Despite being roundly defeated by our pizza double whammy, I was excited to have discovered another perfect ‘secret’ treat spot for future family days out with the kids.