Burro, a new Italian restaurant in Covent Garden, London, had been on my horizons even before the napkins were on order, because Conor Gadd, the chef-owner, has form. His first restaurant Trullo, up in Islington, has sat unshakably around the top of my recommendations list for about 15 years and is namechecked by me at least twice weekly when complete strangers want a tip for a birthday, proposal or a client they need to impress. Or simply, “somewhere to take a foodie” who “really likes food”. Yes, the brief given to restaurant critics is often that vague, but to all these things I say: “Have you been to Trullo? Order the beef shin ragu and some good red wine. It’s been there for ages and they know what they’re doing.”
While trends came and went – no reservations, no tablecloths, no seats, just benches and upturned buckets – Trullo kept on being an actual grownup restaurant. And now Gadd, via Burro, is bringing some of that authority and old-school charm to a more touristy side of town; to be specific, a few minutes from Covent Garden tube, off King Street in a hidden courtyard that leads down to Floral Street. Burro’s menu certainly has elements of her big sister, but perhaps erring more on the elegant but hearty side. Take the rough-hewn, well seasoned, luscious paté of Venetian chicken livers on a thick slab of bruschetta that sits on the antipasti section of the menu, but in all honesty would do as a main course with a glass of something bright, sharp and white to cut through all that fattiness. Or simply a negroni, as chosen by my dining companion, the long-suffering Charles.
Burro’s ‘rough-hewn, well seasoned, luscious’ Venetian chicken livers on toast.
An antipasto offering of fried artichoke with bottarga was another delight: chunky, lightly battered artichoke, resembling calamari and with wafts of salty fishiness. The fresh focaccia: glossy, crisp, springy and moist – no complaints there. Burro’s menu begins boldly, whisks through primi of tagliarini with clams and strozzapreti with pork and chilli, then moves into meaningful secondi, where a whole lemon sole comes in a prosecco sauce and a whopping vitello al burro (its take on a veal milanese) is breadcrumbed, buttery and rich with garlic. The braised beef shin on polenta is pure comfort food, with the polenta almost wholly submerged in butter and the beef itself as soft as nursery food.
Burro is big, but the opposite of brash. It’s an oasis of pristine sanity in a postcode full of fire-breathing buskers and, recently, Guinness hats. For such a large space, it’s elegant and defiantly serene; the colour scheme’s a rhapsody of unobtrusive beige and taupe with non-jarring bursts of ombre. There are real tablecloths – what luxury! – and staff (some of whom have come from Trullo) who know the menu forwards and backwards, so will talk you though those primi, secondi and contorni while you sip a Donkey Kick (whisky, chartreuse, lime juice and, um, poitín – AKA Irish moonshine). Was moonshine in cocktails on my spring 2026 trend forecast? No. Do I trust Gadd from Belfast to introduce moonshine classily to the masses? Yes. Do I appreciate his tendency to serve Italian food with sides of roseval potatoes drenched in butter and garlic? Yes, that, too.
‘The highlight’: Burro’s fettuccine with duck and porcini ragu.
For me, the highlight was Burro’s fettuccine with duck and porcini ragu – a spin on Trullo’s classic beef shin ragu – and it’s possibly one of the best dishes currently being served in this pasta-stuffed postcode. Rich, silky, decadent, fabulous. It’s a sharing portion, or a self-indulgent gannet’s portion. Take your pick.
Patently, the Tricolor flag-draped elephant in the room is whether central London needs more Italian restaurants: Locatelli at the National Gallery is fantastic, Charlie Mellor’s new Osteria Vibrato is superb and, holy heck, even Jamie’s Italian is back from the dead in Leicester Square, serving burrata, bruschetta and linguine.
‘Is this still tiramisu? Probably not’: Burro’s tiramisu doughnuts.
But I think when it comes to Burro, we can squeeze in one spin on tiramisu, which here comes in doughnut form. Or, to be exact, a small pile of warm ricotta dough sprinkled with sugar and blitzed ladyfingers, and served on a pile of coffee cream laced with marsala. Is this still tiramisu? Probably not. It would make a purist cry. But, for me, it was Blackpool promenade doughnut stalls meet clipping about Bologna on a Vespa.
It’s either abject madness or complete sanity to recreate the small, bespoke loveliness of Trullo in Covent Garden. I happen, after some consideration, to think it’s the latter.
Burro 2 Floral Court, Floral Street, London WC2, 020-4580 1495. Open all week, lunch 12.30-3pm, dinner 5.30-10.30pm (9.30pm Sun). About £70 a head for three courses, plus drinks and service
Dining and Cooking