San Carlo Fumo

Fumo, or in English, smoke, is the crux of San Carlo’s most recent development. Their menu remains passionately traditional, but this time with an emphasis on their Robata charcoal grill. Fumo’s new lunch menu demanded a trip out to investigate. 

On the corner of St. Peter’s Square is their little sun trap. Branded umbrellas popped up, tables out, ready for an aperitivo. The most traditional thing about the restaurant is probably the service. Heavy accents and heavy hospitality greet you (and everyone is, of course, exquisitely groomed).

We start with the wine menu. It’s a great size – large enough for varied tastes, but small enough to show discernment and curation. And they’re really quite good. It’s a hot day, so we do whites and roses, and they come super dry, fresh, and go down very easily. The Falanghina Lila, in particular, is a must-try.

The lunch menu works as such: you pick either two courses for £21.95, or three for £25.95. We do two, and we thank ourselves for it. The portion sizes are the second most Italian thing about Fumo.

The first plates hitting the table are the Calamari Fritti and the Arancini Tartufo. It’s always a relief when you bite into an arancini to find rice, instead of an ambiguous porridge-like thing. In fact, it’s maybe the best thing on offer. You can smell it before it even gets to your mouth – whole, visible chunks of truffle and a smooth Grana Padano base.

The calamari is textbook. No rubbery squid here. Squeeze your lemon over the top and fight over the aioli. Although I must reiterate, there is definitely enough for a small village. This, I would argue, is the appropriate amount of aioli. 

For mains, we have the Pollo Milanese and the Ravioli Spinaci e Ricotta. The Pollo is a super tenderised, hammered-out chicken breast. It’s a little bit kiev, it’s a little bit schnitzel, but enhanced with Italian flavours like their Datterino tomatoes. I’m very judgmental about my tomatoes, and these slow-roasted, on-the-vines are really great. Fruity, acidic, and bright.

The Ravioli is stunning. Huge parcels lying flat under proper good lashings of sauce. The waiter asks if we want cheese on top. You already know the answer.

I think it’s difficult to balance cheese or cream-heavy dishes. It’s so rich, so powerful, it often overwhelms other parts of the dish. But this tomato sauce? Something to write home about. I don’t know where they get their tomatoes from, but I feel like I’m missing out. This is exactly how it is supposed to taste.

I’m eavesdropping on a waiter saying ‘we’re all Calabrian here, not Italian’, which is so authentic I didn’t even know that those politics existed. 

Fumo isn’t reinventing the wheel here. They’re doing what the Italians do best, and fiercely protecting tradition. The food is great, the portions are even better, and the service is unmatched. Remember to bring your appetite.