I have never left Spuntino not drunk. This is a fact of life just like creepy pimps on Rupert Street or drinking pints in the freezing cold in Soho. And I like it.
Another fact is that I never went to Spuntino sober either. Just like Bar Soho, or Dirty Burger, or Meat Liquor it is one of my favourite drunk magnets. It is a key facilitator of my age inappropriate “I shouldn’t but I will anyways” weeknight benders. You know, the ones you regret the next day but never learn from. I kind of like that, too.
The food here really isn’t healthy. Queues are almost always long. Drinks come mostly in cans. So who cares about queues, you can drink cans in the queue!
Around 85% of all food is deep fried. If it isn’t battered it has melted cheese on it. Sometimes both. Deep fry olives? Hell yes. What can you put on a cheese toast? Truffle oil, and some melted butter!
I am sure that during daylight – on an ordinary Monday or Tuesday – I would struggle with recognizable levels of shame and guilt, but as mentioned above, unless you had a couple of pints beforehand Spuntino isn’t really a Monday or Tuesday lunch kind of place.
I have visited dozens of times over the years, chatted with several generations of hipster bar staff and had plenty of deep and meaningful conversations with many of my friends at the counter. And I love that – and always will.
[8/10] Spuntino, 61 Rupert Street, W1D 7PW London