I’ll never quit these old-school Italians…
I’ve lived in Newcastle forever, and have never visited Portofino (12A Mosley St, Newcastle upon Tyne, NE1 1DE). Placing it in a small club of places I can say that about in this great city. Off the top of my head: The Muddler. Rani. Castro’s. A few others. Not for dislike, just there’s always something shinier. None of them have been around nearly half the time of Portofino. It’s Grade II listed. Been operated by the same family since 2000.
I say I’ve never been — I lie. Went on a stag do a few years back and got kicked out before we were sat down. Really can’t remember that.
Managed to eventually visit (sans shenanigans) this Saturday for lunch. I don’t know much about their trading, but my god the place was full, and consistently turning away punters between 2-4pm. Good going.
Of course I kinda knew what to expect. As much as I’m pleading for a Padella, Sud, or similar in Newcastle — particularly since the loss of Caffè Vivo — I’ve always had a spot for ‘cheap and cheerful’ Italian restaurants. Who doesn’t? Restaurants like this are the grafters of the UK hospitality trade.
After a very spendy start to 2023, the main goal here was a meal out that cost less than three digits this time 😫. Happy Hour at Portofino means pizza/pasta dishes for £8. At that price, who’s to argue?
There’s more. Starters from £3 and desserts £4. I don’t think potato skins or pizza garlic breads are really going to convince anyone to quit their career and go join a cooking school on Lake Como, but for £3 and £5 respectively, there’s zero expectation. A homemade saffron aioli or buffalo mozzarella would be nice, sure. But you already know what to expect, you’ve had these a hundred times before and they’re all largely the same.
Potato skins a bit thicker than you really want them to be, and no, I do not want BBQ sauce with them. You can still taste the garlic on the pizza bread the next day, but for me that’s part of the appeal. I get accused of being a food snob once a week, well here you go. I smashed the lot of this in, with aplomb.
No surprises with main courses which are like a happy hour bingo card. Carbonara (‘a touch of cream’ 😢), arrabbiata, Genovese, the usual suspects. And bolognese of course. Today, and always really, my raison d’etre.
It’s not a shoulder and short rib ragu that’s been cooked for hours with San Marzanos and a rich wine, and kissed with 36 month aged Parmigiano 🤌🏻. But it’s so familiar and so comforting. It’s a formative dish of mine that I’ve been eating at very similar restaurants for the last twenty-five years and here is no different. It’s got that slightly metallic twang, sticky meat that clings to the pasta, and leaves greasy tomato stains on your face. You inhale 200g of pasta, a disgusting amount more than you would at home. Reassuringly here, with actual fresh parmesan. Though do I have a soft spot for the kind-of-unpleasant smelling pre-grated stuff, too? You betcha. Bring me that clown-sized pepper grinder as well. I’m here for it.
Kate’s al forno dish (top) contained chopped ham, béchamel and egg and another ungodly amount of penne and mozzarella. I ate more of it than she did because who doesn’t love baked pasta.
We only planned a quick lunch. But it becomes three courses. And who am I to resist the allure of a £16 bottle of house red. Which turned out to be an entirely chuggable Montpulciano D’Abruzzo. It really should be the cheap and cheerful Italian go-to. Could have ordered another… we instead added on punchy negronis for £6.
Turn down a homemade tiramisu for £4? 🤣 This one is barely-there-light but fulfils the coffee & chocolate pick-me-up duty. Apple & pear crumble meanwhile, isn’t too exciting. It does a job. I wish there was the confidence to not dress the plates like this.
Portofino has been at this grandiose and impressive site in Newcastle for nearly a quarter of a century — I’d wager more than Geisha, Flore, and whatever Instagrammable mess comes next will survive, combined. Maybe it’s no-pissing-about hospitality, maybe it’s ‘what you know’, maybe it’s just cheap wine talking.
A few interesting specials aside, it certainly isn’t boundary-pushing, it’s not gonna blow your socks off, or win a Bib Gourmand anytime soon. The menu has probably never changed in years. But it’s part of the backbone of the city’s economy. As much as I’d love to see the overall standard of Italian food in Newcastle rise exponentially, I’ll still always be keen to see some of the guys at the bottom end churning out cheap pasta dishes and plonk and making people happy.
Now, would I go any other time and pay full price…? 🤣
Bill for 2x 3c and a bottle of wine, 2 negronis: £61
Contact: portofinonewcastle.co.uk
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