I didn’t mean to fall in love with a restaurant. Truly. But from the moment I walked into Nina, the newest opening from the Pachamama Group, something shifted — the kind of culinary infatuation that starts with focaccia and ends with a spoon deep in tiramisù, wondering how soon is too soon to come back.
Nestled in the heart of Marylebone, Nina’s charm creeps up on you — soft lighting, wabi-sabi walls, antique crockery with a story to tell, and the sort of welcoming hum that makes you want to cancel your plans and stay all night. I arrived expecting a lovely meal. I left feeling like I’d had a short holiday in Italy, minus the boarding pass.
A Fresh Take on Italian Nostalgia
Pachamama’s already given us Peruvian highs, Grecian breezes, and a crash course in Aegean dining (Bottarga, I still dream of you). But Nina feels different. It’s slower, warmer — more pasta, less pretence. And the food? Let’s just say if I could bottle the veal piccata’s caper-lemon-butter sauce, I’d be drinking it like water.
The menu reads like a love letter to Italy, with enough variety to keep a group happy and enough depth to keep food obsessives like me quietly losing our minds. I started with the crudo — glistening slices dressed in something described as “Italian ponzu” that I now firmly believe should be bottled and sold immediately. The focaccia (I cannot stress this enough) is reason alone to book a table. Freshly baked, pillowy, and served with whipped parmesan butter, it was the kind of thing you order “just to share” and then guard like a dragon with gold.
Pasta, Obviously
Now, I am not one to play favourites with pasta, but the beef shin tagliatelle had me seriously questioning my loyalty to any other dish. Rich, comforting, layered with red wine and finished with a generous snowfall of parmesan — it was everything I want in a bowl of pasta and then some. I also “sampled” my husband’s bottarga linguine (read: stole half of it). Topped with a mound of bluefin tuna tartare, it was extravagant in the best possible way.
And just when I thought I couldn’t possibly eat more, our server gently nudged us toward dessert with the sort of look that says, if you skip this, you’ll regret it. She was right. The tiramisù? Fluffy and boozy in perfect balance. The burnt cheesecake with stracciatella? A lovechild of creamy nostalgia and clever invention. And yes, we got the brown butter hazelnut cannoli too. No regrets.
Wine and Why I’m Still Thinking About It
The wine list reads like an Italian road trip — we started in Tuscany with a bold red and ended in Franciacorta with sparkling joy. There’s a focus on native varietals, the kind that make you feel like you’ve discovered a secret, even if you’re just sipping wine in central London.
Design Details That Matter
I’d be remiss not to mention the interiors — they’re genuinely special. Beige might sound boring, but here it’s beautifully considered, layered with warmth from wooden floors and mirrored finishes that catch the candlelight just right. The bar glows quietly at the centre of it all, while art curated by the brilliant Lunara Bramley–Fenton adds splashes of personality without ever feeling too “designed.” Everything — down to the shape of the plates — has been thought through, and it shows. It’s the kind of place where you feel glamorous just sitting there.
In Short…
Nina is more than just a restaurant — she’s an experience that unfolds slowly, course by course, sip by sip. A place where tradition and creativity shake hands over bowls of pasta and glasses of wine.
Marylebone’s had its fair share of openings, but this one feels different. Personal. Intimate. And entirely unforgettable. If you need me, I’ll be back at that mirrored bar, torn between ordering the tagliatelle again or branching out. Probably both.
18 Thayer St, London W1U 3JY
