The Best Restaurant In Liverpool?

We salute a restaurant that’s a rarity in the city - it doesn’t talk the talk, it just delivers, every time. Why can't we have more places like this?

Deep inside your brain there’s a little algorithm that starts computing every time you go into a restaurant. It’s an equation that adds food to value, multiplies service over atmosphere, and divides by consistency.

You don’t realise you’re crunching the numbers til you’re paying the bill - and your onboard computer delivers its verdict: yes, we’ll be back. No, you’re having a laugh.

It’s a formula that leaves many restaurants wanting.

It had been a busy Saturday. A lacklustre lunch at Lunya (the second in a row) left us £60 lighter and still hungry. Three tapas each, a beer, and that sinking feeling that comes when you know the kitchen just isn’t on it that day.

Here’s the thing about the Italian Club: do the math and, every time, the numbers balance perfectly.

It’s nine o’clock on Pride Saturday and the Italian Club is as convivial, welcoming and buzzy as ever. If it’s been frantic all day you’d never know it. Waiting staff whisk us to our table, crack open the Morettis and talk us through the specials. Before you can say ‘when’s your Dolmio day’ we’re relaxed, cocooned, and wondering why the hell we don’t come here more often.

Democratic, family friendly and fuss-free, The Italian Club doesn’t beg to be your friend on Facebook. It doesn’t try to distract you with with elaborate, glass-finned statement bars, and, to our knowledge, has never once begged us to come for a nudge-nudge PR tasting event.

The Italian Club just gets on with the business of cooking hearty, wholesome and authentic Anglo-Italian fare. And now it’s open til 10pm most nights, it’s doing it more often, to more people. But still, it doesn’t like to make a fuss. And that’s partly why we love it.

But mostly, it’s the food.

A tinglingly fresh Insalata Caprise (£5.95) came with a snowball-sized dollop of creamy mozzarella, sliced and perfectly salted tomatoes and nutty Italian olive oil. The Antipasto Misto ‘Italian Club’ (£7.95) offered meats, creamy potato and veg salads, and slithers of char-grilled aubergene. If we leave now, I thought, it would already leave Lunya standing.

The Italian Club is the creation of Italian-via-Scotland’s Crolla family, hailing from the village of Picinisco, in the Apennine mountains. And we’re lucky to have them here, because they’re doing everything right - as they are up the road, at Fish.

The restaurant’s beech-wood flooring, deli counter and gold leaf-edged barrel vaulted extension offers around 40 covers, generously spaced, with vibrant Italian maps and Adriatic scenes splashing the walls with colour.

Its menu is reassuringly brief - burgers, (excellent) pizzas and paninis make for a great lunch. In the evenings the selection expands to include daily specials - lemon chicken, roast chicken, ossobuco.

I was in a meat loaf state of mind, and nabbed the last portion. Well, that’s what I was told. I’m fairly sure I got a portion for a family of four. But could I fit two beef fists in? Well, dear readers, I gave it my best shot.

Perfectly seasoned ground beef, spinach leaves and, possibly, a hint of parmesan, coated with tangy tomato sauce, a generous side of rosemary-infused roast potatoes and a bouncy-castle of salad. For under a tenner? Ridiculous, frankly.

The chicken cacciatore was equally stupid. Succulent, fall-off-the-bone chicken in a bursting-with-flavour tomato and olive sauce, a lunch-box of salad and a handbag’s worth of roast spuds. Comfort food at its most comfortable. And for less than the price of two measly tapas.

Is it the most accomplished cooking in town? Of course not. Is that your primary concern when you opt to eat out? What do you think?

These days, everyone’s desperate to tell you they’re an expert. Everyone’s only too keen to show you their credentials. Every new restaurant promises ‘out of this world’ food in a ‘no-expense spared’ experience. We had an invite to a new one this week, Holdi in Woolton. And we got the photos from its launch (pic r). A star studded crowd including ‘footballers’ wives, Hollyoaks stars and Desperate Scousewives’ attended. Our bouche wasn’t amuse.

We’ll no doubt go down in a bit - it might be fantastic. But here’s our recipe for success. You don’t need an app. You don’t need a networking event. Just get your head down and cook, will yer.

After a reassuringly on-the-money bowl of ice cream and another beer we got the bill - £54. That equation? It stacked up beautifully.

The Italian Club? It says it best when it says nothing at all.

The Italian Club
85 Bold Street
Liverpool