Bella Italia

2/10

Bella Italia, a well established chain serving mediocre Italian food,
started and nearly ended my relationship.

Bella Italia. I took my girlfriend there on our first date, in
Cambridge. It was good, and that we are still together is largely due
to this experience. Though I suspect it was not so much the food, which
was OK, as the chemistry we shared, and the kiss at the end of the
night. As a confirmed couple, a few months later, we returned, hoping
to order a takeaway pizza that we could eat whilst walking beside the
river Cam. We were disappointed. The waitress behind the counter
lamented the absence of cheese and takeaway pizza boxes. A
pizzeria/restaurant without cheese and takeaway boxes? She insisted
that we could still have our pizza, if we were prepared to compromise,
that is, have a cheeseless pizza to eat in. No thanks.

So when, in London, the said girlfriend suggested that we go to Bella
Italia, I was slightly wary. Let me explain. I was in a predicament,
with which, I am absolutely certain, you will identify. It was late in
the evening and I could no longer avoid my stomach’s cries. But I did
not know where to eat. A voice dives through the air and bombs into my
ears. ‘We could go to Bella Italia,’ my girlfriend suggests, as we
stood outside its Leicester Square branch. This is not to say that it
was her fault. We were in London. We could go to any other restaurant.
Or indeed, any other chain. But then the thoughts, in a seemingly
logical flow, arose: we are students with little money to spend. And
there are Bella Italia vouchers available on the internet that we can
use giving us 50% off the total bill. The latter point clinched it.
Having printed off the voucher, we made tentative steps towards the
restaurant.

We were shown to a table for two. This table was so small that it could
only comfortably fit one. I know my name is gargantuan gastronome, but
I assure you, I am but a slim chap – I hope you will appreciate the
irony. So I kindly asked to be seated at another, larger table, that
is, a table for four. And as the restaurant was not busy, I did not
think this an absurd request. I would like to say that within minutes
we were shown to one of the many empty tables for four. But it was more
like ten minutes. After much faffing about, we were shown to a bigger
table. I finally felt at ease to study the restaurant. It is like a
traditional trattoria – slightly dated. But one could argue that this
is part of its charm. I disagree. After the table incident, the
atmosphere felt slightly awkward and one could tell that the waiters
and waitresses were feigning their smiles. Awkward.

To start I ordered the meatballs and for main, stuffed roasted peppers.
A small dish was placed before me, and judging from plops of brown
balls, I astutely guessed this was my meatball dish. Visually, it was
unappealing. Taste-wise, OK. Rather like the meatball sandwich one
finds in Subway. The meatballs were drenched in a sickly sauce, made
even worse by the melting mozzarella sat on top, which copulated with
the sauce engendering a taste so foul that I almost fainted,
metaphorically. The next dish was much better. But, before I can move
onto this dish, I must express a fact followed by a complaint. My
girlfriend is a vegetarian. I often complain about this, but this is
not my qualm. This is my complaint: having ordered a vegetarian pizza,
she thought it a slap in the face when the waitress placed in front of
her a chicken salad. Doh. The waitress kindly removed the dish, and
went into the kitchen at which point, I assume, she asked for what my
girlfriend actually ordered, a vegetarian pizza. By the time the pizza
arrived, I had already eaten my dish. So much for eating out together.
This pizza, incidentally, was slightly undercooked.

The peppers – two, to be precise – were stuffed with risotto. The rice
was al dente, just the way I like it. A nice salad accompanied the
peppers and its citrus dressing nicely offset the stodginess of the
risotto. Overall, a good dish.

Service was efficient, what I would expect from team of ten working in
an empty restaurant, but this did not redeem the many faults that
occurred during our meal. Why did I come here? My girlfriend suggested
it. And knowing the principle that men must be obsequious to the whims
of their other halves, I went with it. But this was nearly at the cost
of our relationship. We had our first date in a Bella Italia and it
looked like we were going to have our last in one. The £20 bill saved
the relationship, just.