London is not without good tiramisu. The Italian dessert has been here for years, first served at restaurants like Vasco & Piero in Soho, Da Mario in Kensington and Ciao Bella in Bloomsbury.
It also happens to be a pudding that flies somewhat under the radar. It’s just there, a comforting dish and, usually, a relatively safe bet after Sunday lunch. There are solid versions at the likes of Ombra, Trullo, Brutto and Dalla, but it’s hardly the foremost reason to go to any of these.
But tiramisu is back in the news thanks to the former football star Ian Wright. Ahead of the new Premier League season, the matchday pundit took to food influencing on TikTok, visiting a branch of Harry’s Dolce Vita in Knightsbridge for a glitzy Italian lunch and going on to claim the restaurant serves “the best tiramisu in London”.
“I only come here to get the tiramisu,” Wrighty says in his video. “It’s the best in London… easily. It’s perfect: the right amount of chocolate on the top, with that nice creamy bit in the middle; what I love about it most is that it doesn’t have an overpowering coffee taste. Amazing. If there’s a better one in London, let me know and I’ll go and try it. That’s my quest now, to go and see if there’s a better one.”
Neither the Standard’s restaurant critic David Ellis nor I had ever had the tiramisu at Harry’s. Being Palace fans, we thought we’d better listen to Wrighty and try it. Our thoughts are below.
Josh’s take
Tiramisu isn’t meant to be eaten all the time. It’s more of a special occasion dish, a pick-me-up after a long birthday lunch, for example. I find it odd that people have it in the evening. Cream at that hour will not do.
Anyway, for the most part, I agree with Wrighty: Harry’s does an excellent tiramisu, if far too big for one person. And at £11.25, definitely one to share — I managed just a quarter.
Flavour first: superb. Here the Savoiardi biscuits are soaked in coffee and rum, both of which are subtle, while the egg and mascarpone mousse is imbued with a little masala. I could hardly detect the rum or masala, but that’s no bad thing given neither feature in the original recipe. I visited La Baccherie in Treviso many years ago to meet “the godfather of tiramisu”, Ado Campeol. The first was invented in the 1970s by his wife Alba di Pillo and pastry chef Roberto Linguanotto and there it’s simply the combination of coffee, biscuits, cream and cocoa. That said, the addition of booze is no bad thing. My nonna puts rum in hers and she comes from Fanna, just over an hour away.
To that end, tiramisu is difficult to mess up. Layers are more important, I think. What was most striking about the one at La Beccherie was how rigid it was. It wasn’t served in a bowl or glass but on a small plate standing alone. The layers were perfect: two of Savoiardi , three of mascarpone, with a generous amount of cocoa dusted on the top. It was mousse-y, as it should be, and perfect with a grappa. I don’t like that the one at Harry’s is in a bowl, unseen.
But I’m not going to argue with Wrighty. Harry’s tiramisu is up there, definitely, perfectly indulgent and creamy but not too heavy or blindingly sweet. I’d urge him to visit Dalla next, which I think might edge it.
David’s take
I make no claims as a tiramisu expert; I barely eat pudding as it is — I think my sweet tooth was taken out with the wisdoms. In this regard I differ from the loveable Ian Wright, who features tiramisu on his TikTok with unlikely regularity. His latest post is fragranced with the confidence of a man who knows what he likes and has it often. To that end, though I’ve enjoyed tiramisu at Theo’s (Camberwell), Santo Mare (Marylebone) and Sale e Pepe (Knightsbridge), I can’t say if Wrighty is on the money with his judgement. I have not had them all; I do not have a list of reference points.
On the other hand, I have a working set of taste buds and grew up on the stuff, eating it week in and week out, either at the local Italian (Quattro in Caversham; I still go) or at home courtesy of Waitrose, or sometimes Mum. There wasn't a Harry's nearby in those days. Harry’s is one of the cleverer chains — well appointed, smartly fitted out, glamorous. Lots of burnished wood and chandeliers. This pudding is as smart as its surrounds: a bowl of it comes wrapped in a napkin held in place by a sterling silver holder, the bowl resting not on one rather pretty flowered plate but three of ever-increasing size. It is lightly dusted in bitter chocolate powder and artfully decorated with a single chocolate-dressed coffee bean.
The flavour? Good: it was built well, with decent layers, and the Marsala-spiked egg mousse clearly meant to be the star. It is the kind of tiramisu meant for a long, lazy Sunday afternoon, probably shared and drunk with vino santo, amaretto, or — for the diehards — grappa. Which is to say it’s heavy, thick, indulgent. For me, though the menu says the sponge fingers have been soaked in espresso and rum, it was too light on both. I like a tiramisu that comes with the tang of bitter coffee and preferably a little kick of booze; these cut the creaminess and add a welcome, enlivening sharpness to the pudding. Did this need that? Perhaps: halfway through, I was beat. Chewing the coffee bean itself helped, though. Still, I’d go back and share it, and to be honest, I’d trust Wrighty if he found another tiramisu worth travelling for. Let’s see where’s next.
27-31 Basil Street, SW3 1BB, harrysdolcevita.com
