(For best effect, read while listening to this and drinking a mug of EV olive oil).
UPDATE: Jamie’s Italian ā the entire chain ā is now infamously CLOSED.
This is a tough one, because Iām not one of those who thinks you are a fat-tongued, mildly smug cockney who persistently nannies us all into eating more healthily. I mean, I quite like your TV shows, youāre good at them. But something inside wants me to hate your restaurants, deride them as independent-crushing, copy & paste cash cows. Prejudices aside, Iāve been to few parts of your empire in different cities now, and annoyingly, theyāve all been pretty much āalrightā.
Youāve finally made it to NewcastleĀ (NE1Ā 7AL).Ā Of course you have, even our waitress proudly told us how you used pedestrian tracking cameras to determine the footfall by the monument was 15,000 per day(!), so an ace (Ā£Ā£Ā£) little spot for you, really.
Itās nowhere near as grand as the Manchester, or Scottish branches, but my god, it is enormous. For a sense of scale, I overheard the head chef call for table 98. Wow. Walking the looong trek to our table last week, your walls are adorned with your sets of wooden planks, cutlery, crockery, and of course, all of of your books. Buy, buy, buy. Itās a bit bloody exhausting.
You can quickly see this is a restaurant/arm of a business operation which is highly honed, so itās all very, very cynical, but is it any good? Itād be easy to just say no, itās Zizzi/Prezzo/HighStreetChain#168 but a bit more āwickedā, but some of the food is actually quite decent.
Pastas, antipasti, all things vaguely-Italian, and all the flourishes youād see on 30 Minute Meals are all on the menu, and it all sounds very āpukkaā. The cocktails were great for the price (~Ā£7), and though Iāve not yet ordered wine, many have said itās reasonably priced, given the quality.
So the foodā¦well, they may or may not be āthe worldās best olivesā, but damn they are good. Served on ice, sweet, fruity, and just lovely, theyāre a world away from the sad little acidic snots often served in your Da Mimmoās, etc. I yearn for just a few more than the serving of six, but then the accompanying āmusic breadā and tapenade are equally delicious. The antipasto is much the same – though ridiculously served on one of Jamieās Planksā¢ which sits on two tins of tomatoes on a pretty small table. The sourcing of the ingredients is obviously pretty sharp, though you can just imagine the swathes of Italian land & suppliers Jamie & Gennaro have bought up, just to ship over Northern England to sell at a canny mark-up.
Your Ā£6.85 plank for one yields four slivers of salami/mortadella/schiacciata & proscuitto, a golf ball sized buffalo mozzarella, a postage stamp of pecorino and salad&pickles. Again, itās annoyingly delicious, further punishing the lack of our very own Friends of Ham. Breads are equally fresh & well done, and as youād expect, Jamieās patented EVOO douses everything. For your average Filippo Berio consumer though, it is very, very palatable.
The service is sickeningly slick – obviously the line in the training manual is ājust be Jamie Oliverā. If this is the case, the UK must be spawning a small army of mini-Jamieās because there are dozens of staff running about. Some people, will of course love all this ācheeky chappyā shenanigans.
The slick presentation extends to the food itself. Just as with his TV shows, things are dressed just so, pasta comes with panngrattato on the side, salads are āpimpedā with many, many components. Again, think ā30 Minute Mealsā, as much of the food even seems to be riding Jamieās health wagon. I imagine the vision was to ādoā Italian chain restaurants better than anyone else, and you can imagine his smug little face, knowing heās done just that. There are nearly 40 branches now.
Given the complete lack of pizza effort, I would have thought that pasta would have been right at the forefront. Quick to cook, high mark-up, made fresh every day, just do it really well, but none of the many Iāve had have really blown me away. Not even cooked as al dente as I like it really. Serve it on as many daft plates as you like, the sausage parpadelle – dry, the rabbit cassarecce – uninspiring, and lamb ragus – just a bit lacking in oomph. About Ā£10-12 each. We try some “famous” polenta chips which were texturally nice and crispy, but no amount of showering with parmesan and rosemary showering gives them a flavour of much more than wallpaper paste. Iāll be damned if you want me to order “posh” (truffle), or “funky” (garlic) chips.
So a bit of a quandary really. Bit of a grumpy cynic like me? You will still enjoy the ride, but maybe through gritted teeth, knowing youāre lining Jamieās bulging pockets.
Judging by the fact the place has been consistently heaving since opening though, I guess most of Newcastle will lap it up, especially if you love Mr. O and all that he does. The food really is good in places, but not to labour a point, we have some great independents doing similar stuff, and whom actually invest back into the city. Try Caffe Vivo for one. Something nags me inside though, knowing Iāll be back at some point thoughā¦
Have you been? What did you think?
