Salotto 31 Wine Bar & Restaurant

So there I was, sitting at a tiny marble table in Salotto 31, staring at a glass of red wine that promised to “change my life.” I know, right? That’s the kind of hype you’d expect from a street magician, not a wine bar. But then I took a sip—and I’m not kidding, my shoulders dropped two inches. The guy next to me, a local who looked like he’d been coming here since the 90s, just winked and said, “See? First time’s always the charm.”

That’s the thing about Salotto 31 Wine Bar & Restaurant—it doesn’t try to impress you with velvet ropes or a DJ. It tricks you with comfort. Tucked away on a side street in the city center (you know, the kind you walk past five times before noticing), it feels like someone’s stylish living room that accidentally became a restaurant. The name “Salotto” literally means “living room” in Italian, and trust me, they nailed the brief.

I’m going to tell you something that might sound weird: this place gave me the best conversation I’ve had in a year. And it wasn’t even with a person—it was with a plate of burrata. Seriously. The cheese arrived on a wooden board, drizzled with olive oil that tasted like a Tuscan summer, and it came with a side of fig jam that made me question every other fig jam I’ve ever loved. It was the kind of food that makes you close your eyes and hum, and I’m not ashamed to admit I did exactly that. (Pro tip: order the burrata and the grilled octopus. Your taste buds will send you a thank-you card.)

Of course, the wine is the real star here—hence the “Wine Bar” part of the name. Their list is built around small Italian producers you’ve never heard of, which is exactly the point. You won’t find the same old Chianti or Pinot Grigio you see at every supermarket. Instead, you’ll get something like a Nerello Mascalese from Sicily that tastes like volcanic ash and cherry blossoms. The owner, a cheerful guy named Marco who clearly loves his job, told me, “I choose wines that tell a story. The story might be sad, or funny, but it’s never boring.” I mean, how can you argue with that? You can’t.

The food menu is short—and that’s a good thing.

Look, I know we all get overwhelmed by those giant menus with thirty pasta options. Not here. Salotto 31 offers a tight, seasonal menu that changes almost weekly. One week you might see pappardelle with wild boar ragù; the next week it’s stuffed zucchini flowers with ricotta and mint. The chef, a woman named Elena, told me, “I cook whatever’s at the market that morning. If the sardines look good, we do sardines. If it’s truffle season, you’ll smell it from the door.” That approach makes every visit feel like a mini adventure. (Side note: if you go on a Tuesday, ask for the polenta special. I won’t tell you why. Just trust me.)

Salotto31 – Best Italian restaurant City London, pizzeria, wine bar

But what about the “salotto” vibe?

You might be wondering: is it actually cozy, or is it one of those “we’re trying to be cozy” places with exposed brick and sad succulents? No. It’s the real deal. There are worn leather armchairs by the window, a bookshelf filled with wine guides and Italian novels, and a record player that spins old jazz at a volume that lets you actually talk. I once overheard a couple next to me discussing whether a 2015 Barolo was “too young to drink now.” They argued for ten minutes, then the bartender brought them a bottle of something older and said, “Try this one, then tell me I’m wrong.” They ended up buying him a drink. That’s the energy here.

And the service? It’s attentive without being clingy. The staff knows the wine list inside out, but they don’t lecture you. When I asked for a recommendation, the server—a woman named Lucia with a killer smile—simply said, “You look like you need something earthy and a little stubborn.” She brought me a glass of Aglianico from Campania, and she was dead right. It was stubborn. And perfect.

Salotto31 – Best Italian restaurant City London, pizzeria, wine bar

Now, let’s talk about the price—because you’re probably wondering if this place will break the bank. Here’s the honest truth: a glass of wine runs you about €8–€12, and a full meal (antipasto, pasta, dessert) will land around €45–€60 per person. For the quality? That’s a steal. I’ve paid double for worse food in fancier rooms. Salotto 31 isn’t cheap, but it’s fair, and that’s a rare thing in the restaurant world.

One last thing: the bathroom. Yes, I’m going there. Because a restaurant’s bathroom tells you everything. At Salotto 31, the bathroom is small, tiled in vintage green, and has a little shelf with a candle and a stack of Italian travel magazines. It smells like lemon and clean linen. And on the wall, there’s a framed photo of a cat sitting on a wine barrel. That’s it. That’s the vibe.

So, if you’re ever wandering through that part of town, feeling hungry and a little tired of the usual restaurant scene: turn down the side street, push open the heavy wooden door, and find a seat. Order the burrata. Let the wine choose you. And maybe don’t sit next to me—because I’ll probably be there again, talking to my glass.