Venice is always in my mind. It has stayed with me since my first visit in 1989—a very different experience to visiting in April this year. It’s safe to say, each visit I make to La Serenissima is unique. The city never repeats itself. It simply reveals new layers.

Polpo – Octopus and Memory

I don’t enjoy eating fish, so I must admit the name Polpo held me back from exploring this culinary icon. But Venice itself triggered this, my first visit to the Beak Street premises. A moment researching something alluded to Polpo—I may have been researching cicchetti (pronounced chee-KEH-tee) after one of many pauses to indulge whilst exploring the myriad twists and turns of Dorsoduro, Cannaregio, San Polo or San Marco. One weaves through Venice and gets drawn to a table, a window seat, a counter—seduced by the delightful delicacies the Venetians take for granted.

Cicchetti are more than small plates. They are the soul of Venetian social life. Traditionally served in bàcari—the cozy wine bars of Venice—they whisper stories of sailors, merchants, and locals pausing for a glass of ombra and a bite. A moment to connect. A ritual of community.

I digress. A reference online made me look at Polpo. The book made my mouth water (yes, I now have it on my shelf and I will be indulging), and so a plan was hatched: Polpo for dinner, and something to accompany before or afterwards to fill out a visit to London.

The Meal: A Venetian Prelude

Polpo is oh-so-popular, so we ended up with a 5:30 pm table and sat down to the recommended two to three cicchetti before a main dish. We chose:

  • Goat curd, peas & mint crostino – creamy, fresh, and herbaceous, a gentle start to the evening.
  • Truffle & potato crocchette – golden and crisp, with a soft, earthy centre and a hint of indulgence.
  • Arancina – a single, perfect sphere of comfort, crisp outside and savoury within.
  • Baccalà mantecato – whipped salt cod, smooth and briny, a true Venetian classic.

Our mains were:

  • Courgette fries – light, salty, and addictive.
  • Meatballs in tomato sauce – rich and hearty, finished with a snowfall of parmesan.
  • linguine alle vongole – briny and bold, with clams nestled like secrets in their shells.

Each dish was a memory rekindled, a moment relived. Polpo doesn’t imitate Venice—it remembers it.

Dessert did beckon—and I’m so glad it did. We finished with a classic tiramisu, layered and luscious, and a panna cotta so delicate it barely held its shape. The best my wife has ever had. A perfect punctuation to a Venetian-inspired meal before we walked to St Martin’s for 7pm and a stunning performance in a beautiful setting.

Baroque by Candlelight

I love classical music and have been wanting an excuse to visit St Martin-in-the-Fields. Baroque Classics by Candlelight—what could be better?

The concert unfolded like a dream. Strings and harpsichord weaving tales of love, loss, and light. The candlelit church, the acoustics, the intimacy—it was a reminder that beauty, like good food, needs no translation.

The programme featured a rich selection of Baroque masterpieces:

  • Pachelbel: Canon and Gigue in D
  • Handel: Selections from the Water Music Suite
  • Bach: Air on a G String
  • Tartini: Sinfonia in D
  • Wilhelmine von Bayreuth: Concerto in G minor
  • Isabella Leonarda: Sonata prima Op. 16
  • Vivaldi: Sinfonia in G

There were also two unannounced solo keyboard pieces that added a quiet intimacy to the evening. The performers held the room in stillness, each note echoing through the vaulted space like candlelight itself.

Reflections

Evenings like this remind me why I love cities like London. They offer moments that feel like travel—without leaving. A plate of cicchetti, a piece of baroque, and the company of someone who understands the joy of both.

Share this post