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There are many things to like about the Spanish-ish bistro Lita. First, there’s the location; tucked onto a pleasant side street in Marylebone, a kind of less braggy, more socially acceptable Mayfair. Second, is the warm, inviting room – once a Carluccio’s – where the lights are dimmed just enough, the walls are a hazy shade of rose, seats are as cosy as the embrace of your favourite nan, and well-worn parquet floors all combine to create an ambiance that will offend absolutely no-one; from Hackney Marshes food foragers to Michelin star snobs, all are welcome here. Third is the brazenly open kitchen, so welcoming and so central to the homely space that you might accidentally stroll into it while looking for the loo and end up accidentally working a whole shift as a sous.
There's lots of fish and lots of fire, and everything is slicked in so much olive oil that the dishes are glossier than a Steely Dan outro
More interesting than all that though, is the man on the pans, Luke Ahearne. A dynamo of a chef, he has finally been granted a room of his own after working in the family cafe in Clonmel, Ireland, then toiling at a run of spectacularly impressive London restaurants; The Clove Club, Luca, and, finally, Corrigan’s Mayfair, where he was head chef at just 29. Long a talent to watch, finally the spotlight is fully blazing upon on his cookery.
Lita itself brands itself as a ‘southern Mediterranean’ restaurant. In reality this means lots of fish and lots of fire, and everything comes slicked with so much olive oil that the dishes are glossier than a Steely Dan outro. Pan con tomate with anchovies opened up the evening’s feasting (sharing plates are, naturally, Lita’s thing), bite-size versions of the tapas titan, with huge, meaty fish draped dramatically across shiny, red fruit in tribute to Rose on the sofa in Titanic, and, somewhere under it all, bread. Heroic stuff. Chopped Hereford beef, with a wedge of Amalfi lemon and endlessly snackable, crunchy shoestring fries comes next, before honking great slabs of silky raw tuna, dotted with corno peppers, coriander, and salty, bullet-like pops of caper.
The raptures continue as hand dived Orkney scallops complete the raw flesh extravaganza, sliced so thin they basically disappeared in my mouth before I’d had the chance to even consider chewing. And that’s just the snacks. Larger, turbo starter dishes comprised a just-about-al-dente-enough linguine with mussels, cockles, and clams, while a tender wee Norfolk quail was almost brought back to life with a splodge of sweet, burnt pear and a smattering of duck hearts.
None of the above was cheap – this is Marylebone after all – but a main of whole Cornish turbot, which had been on a fantastical journey of being grilled and left for 48 hours, then cooked again, was flaky and creamy and everything such a flashy fish should be. But a £130 price tag seemed steep, even if you will pay the same price for the hefty beast at fellow wood-fired, Spanish-ish restaurant Brat. (The turbot tax is real, friends). Next time, we’ll be ordering the poussin with cassoulet and chorizo for a rather more modest £30. Because there certainly, definitely will be a next time. Lita’s just that kind of a place.
The vibe Warm and welcoming high-end bistro energy in Marylebone.
The food Southern Mediterranean sharing plates; lots of fish, citrus, olive oil and ruddy, moist meats. But it'll cost you.
The drink Classy but fruity cocktails (think; pear sidecar, jasmine highball, crema catalana punch) and a storming and really rather large European wine list.
Time Out tip Both snacks and starters are bigger than your average; one of each comes to a pretty decent sized meal for one, if you’re keen to try Ahearn’s serious cooking, but want to keep the price down.