From Naples to Soho: The Family Pizzeria That Became a Fixture
In Soho, where restaurants open with fanfare and disappear just as quickly, La Porchetta has settled into something far more difficult to achieve: permanence.
It has occupied its spot on Old Compton Street since 2001, when Pasquale took over what had been Pollo Bar, a site that had already been feeding Londoners since the 1960s.
Lucio, Pasquale’s son and the restaurant’s manager, puts it simply. “Consistency first of all is key, having the family, Dad and Son, constantly one of us there helps the customers make that family connection to the business.”
In a part of London where faces change as often as menus, that kind of continuity matters. It is visible the moment you walk in, in the way staff greet regulars and in the ease of the room; it feels more like someone’s living room than a central London restaurant.
The atmosphere builds from there. “Having a core of Italian staff, not being pretentious, treating all customers the same, going above and beyond with hospitality. Pricing being affordable for everyone,” Lucio explains. There is nothing forced about it. The service feels natural, attentive without hovering, familiar without slipping into routine. You are given time to sit, eat, talk.
That sense of ease carries through to the food. The menu leans into a true Neapolitan style, unfussy and confident. The Diavola stands out, easily one of the best pizzas in London at its price point. It arrives with a balanced heat that sharpens further with the homemade chilli oil, which is hard not to pour a little too generously.
Portions are generous across the board, something Lucio is keen to emphasise, “Big portions, people not feeling cheated, also with drinks, not giving people the bare minimum. Think it suits my dad’s larger than life character.”
Keeping prices low in central London is a challenge, but it is clearly a priority here. A full meal, pizza, an Aperol spritz, and a side, can come in at around £20. That alone would make it notable in Soho. Combined with the quality, it feels almost improbable.
Details like the hot chocolate underline how closely the restaurant holds onto its Italian roots. Imported directly from Italy, it is thick and intensely sweet, coating the mouth in a way that feels closer to a dessert than a drink. It is also personal. Giorgio, one of the waiters, always brings mine over himself, already knowing how sweet I like it. Those small gestures build over time.
Lucio describes it in broader terms. “When the community or returning customers see the same faces you become part of the restaurant they feel like you become a part of their community. The local Italian but in central London.” It is easy to see how that plays out. Conversations stretch between tables, sometimes for hours. It is not unusual to leave having spoken to people you had never met before.
The setting reflects the same approach. It is simple and warm, with touches of Pasquale’s personality throughout. Maradona posters and magnets are scattered across the walls, alongside more irreverent details like a “sti cazzi” sign placed high above the open kitchen. Italian classics play in the background, and the furnishings are straightforward. Nothing distracts from the food or the people.
Its popularity speaks for itself. Even with chain competition recently opening right next door, often noticeably quieter, La Porchetta remains busy with a mix of Italian regulars and Soho visitors passing through. It has become a meeting point as much as a restaurant.
After decades of change in Soho, places like this are rare. La Porchetta has managed to hold onto its identity while the city shifts around it; the cooking is simple, confident and genuinely good. More importantly, it offers something harder to manufacture in a city like London: the feeling that you belong there, even if only for an evening.