Lita

Richness runs through Lita’s veins like butter pulsing through every ridge of its lardo-draped morel mushrooms. The Mediterranean restaurant in Marylebone prides itself on a lavish decadence that could seem vulgar if the extortionate food wasn’t so goddamn delicious. The room has a warm amber hue to it—fitting given that most people dining here look at a packet of Kerrygold and assume it’s gold leaf—and it’s hard not to lean in from the very first bite of moreish pan con tomate. Flavours at Lita don’t introduce themselves, they charge into the terracotta room like an elephant with a thirst for Old Fashioneds and salt. This could all be overwhelming, so share smaller plates at one of the many lively counters, and go for a Galician beef rib or a whole turbot in a group. Just try not to think about the bill.

photo credit: Beth Evans

photo credit: Beth Evans