Sundays are notorious for the Sunday scaries, and personally, I think one of the better ways to avoid thinking about Monday is to give yourself something else to do entirely, preferably involving pasta and several spritzes. Bocconcino Soho seems to understand this dilemma well. Their Sunday offering combines a Bottomless Italian Brunch with Aperitivo Hour, meaning you can arrive for brunch and stay late into the day for cocktails, which is what we did.
Arriving at 1.30pm we were immediately looked after by our waiter, Victor, who was lovely throughout and made sure there was never much danger of an empty glass. The brunch has two bottomless drinks options: Prosecco, or an upgrade that includes Prosecco alongside a selection of spritzes, and we obviously went for the latter.
Between us, we managed to make our way through pretty much every spritz on offer, including Sarti, Limoncello, Hugo, Aperol and Campari. The Sarti and Hugo were my favourites, but what really stood out was how genuinely bottomless the Bottomless Brunch was. Our Prosecco glasses barely made it to half empty before they were topped up again. There was none of the awkward trying-to-catch-someone’s-eye business that can sometimes come with bottomless brunches. The drinks simply kept appearing.
Food started with a generous spread of antipasti to pick at while we settled in. There were olives, salami, cheeses, courgette, aubergine, pesto, bread and crisp crackers, a spread that requires very little commitment but steadily disappears from the table.
Then came the pasta, and this is where Bocconcino really shone. The Black Truffle Tagliatelle was easily my favourite dish of the afternoon. Rich, silky and incredibly moorish, it made you want to fight for who would get the last bit.
We paired it with the Bocconcino pizza, the restaurant’s namesake, topped with Stracchino, mozzarella, fresh tomatoes and Parma ham. The white base kept it from feeling too heavy, which was useful considering our approach to brunch seemed to be ordering as though fullness was a problem for later.
That philosophy continued when we decided another pasta was necessary and ordered the Carbonara. Made traditionally with guanciale, egg, Pecorino Romano and black pepper, it confirmed that pasta is definitely one of Bocconcino’s strengths. By this point we were, objectively, very full.
Then ice cream appeared- a vanilla ice cream dessert coated in a sweet crumb was brought over to us, a lovely little extra and, theoretically, the end of brunch.
But we did not leave. Instead, we moved outside for Aperitivo Hour. Sitting in Soho with another round of drinks and a plate of fried calamari in front of us, it briefly felt like this busy Central London street had turned into Italy. Admittedly, we were many drinks down by this point, which may have helped with the geographical confusion, but the feeling was there.
The Aperitivo cocktail menu gave us more than enough reason to stay. I started with the Sicilian Citrus Dream, a slightly bizarre-sounding combination of Grey Goose vodka, bergamot liqueur, lemon juice, orange juice, honey, whole milk and carrots. On paper, carrot and milk in a cocktail raises some fairly reasonable questions, but somehow it works like a charm. It was citrusy, unusual and one of the standout drinks of the day.
Next was the Italian Martini. As a huge Martini fan, I was curious about Bocconcino’s Italian take, made with vodka, cherry liqueur and pineapple juice. It was sweeter and fruitier than the classic, which would not normally be something I would’ve opted for, but I thought it was actually a really enjoyable twist.
My favourite, however, required no reinvention at all: the Negroni. It was simply a perfectly made Negroni. When a classic is done that well, there is very little reason to mess with it.
The Fried Calamari deserves its own mention too. Crisp, fresh and incredibly easy to keep picking at between cocktails, it was exactly what I wanted alongside Aperitivo. Finally, the team at Bocconcino had decided we could not leave without one final Italian cliché, we were sent off with a Limoncello shot, and I wasn’t complaining.
What Bocconcino gets right about Sundays is that nothing feels rushed. Brunch quietly became Aperitivo, one drink became several, and suddenly a 1.30pm booking had swallowed most of our afternoon. Victor and the rest of the team were fantastic throughout, the Black Truffle Tagliatelle was the food highlight for me, and the drinks were well-made and truly, truly bottomless.
If you’re looking for a Sunday in Soho built around great Italian food, dangerously attentive Prosecco refills and absolutely no urgency to be anywhere else, Bocconcino is a very good place to spend a few hours. And, as it turns out, it is quite difficult to have the Sunday scaries when you’re several spritzes deep with a plate of pasta in front of you- as long as you don’t make too many plans for afterwards.