The Review: Nina Marylebone
There’s something quietly thrilling about stepping into Nina – the latest opening from the ever-impressive Pachamama group – and realising within moments that you're in for something special.
The Article
Nina, Marylebone – Where La Dolce Vita Meets London Chic
There’s something quietly thrilling about stepping into Nina – the latest opening from the ever-impressive Pachamama group – and realising within moments that you're in for something special. Hidden underground on Marylebone High Street, through a slim, discreet door, Nina is where Italian tradition takes off its tie, lets down its hair, and gets a little more playful. A little louder. A little bolder.
From the moment we sat down, there was an undeniable energy in the room – warm, buzzing, stylishly unpolished. It’s the kind of place that caters just as well to a spontaneous Thursday night date as it does to a long, sun-drenched Saturday lunch. You’ll find the same soul here that runs through its sibling spots, Zephyr and Bottarga – that mix of mood, music, and unfussy luxury that somehow always feels just right.
The real showstopper, in my opinion, was the tiramisu al cucchiaio. Boozy, bold, and beautifully messy – it was hands down the best thing we ate all evening.
Let’s talk about the food.
We were introduced to the parmesan butter – and what an introduction it was. Served alongside the house focaccia, this was no ordinary butter. Rich, whipped, unapologetically salty – it was the kind of thing you think about the next day (and possibly the day after that). The taleggio arancini came four to a plate – gorgeously golden, crisp on the outside, filled with dreamy, molten cheese, finished with a truffle and confit garlic mayo that felt wholly unnecessary but was completely welcome. The yellowtail crudo arrived on a cool bed of stracciatella, with paper-thin slices of jalapeño tucked between the folds – a playful, creamy twist on a signature dish that absolutely delivered.
Mains were robust, generous, and deeply satisfying. The duck ragu bianco, tossed with thick-cut paccheri, was a triumph – rich, earthy, and not shy on the sage or the portion size. The cacio e pepe was all drama: rigatoni nestled around a golden confit egg yolk, ready to be stirred in to bring the whole dish together with velvety precision – perfectly peppery and utterly moreish. Chicken Milanese might sound straightforward, but Nina’s version is on a different level – topped with a decadent slab of parmesan butter, finished with herb salt, and fried to a crisp perfection that was all crunch and tenderness. And for a side that stole a bit of the spotlight: grilled sweetheart cabbage drizzled in hot honey, paired with whipped goat cheese. Sweet, sharp, smoky – a dish with layers.
Don’t make the mistake we did – save space for dessert. You’ll want every spoonful.
The lemon meringue semi-freddo looked like it had been flown in from a seaside pasticceria – light, zesty, and utterly charming. But the real showstopper, in my opinion, was the tiramisu al cucchiaio. Boozy, bold, and beautifully messy – it was hands down the best thing we ate all evening.
Nina is more than a restaurant – it’s a celebration of Italian flair through a distinctly London lens. A dazzling new arrival to Marylebone High Street – and quite frankly, the kind of place that has you plotting your return before the plates are even cleared.
