London's Little Italy

From the late nineteenth to the mid twentieth century, Clerkenwell was London's Little Italy.

The community has dispersed, but they still gather here from time to time. On Clerkenwell Road there's St Peter's, a beautiful Italian church jammed between an alimentari and an office building. If you pass it on a Sunday, you might need to weave through a crowd of beautiful people from the bella paese. They're congregating in a place where Garibaldi and Mazzini orated, and Caruso and Gigli sang. Once a year in July a parade winds its way through the streets, passing packed pubs and cafes.

Recently I've been using Dino's. It's an Italian cafe on St John Street, the ancient thoroughfare that runs from Smithfield Market to the Angel, Islington. The sixty-something owner Tony originates from Amalfi, but has spent his entire life in London. On the unseasonably warm Saturday we enjoyed last month, three of us spent a whole day with him, his friends and a few bottles of Montepulciano.

The back room of the cafe sits on the lower ground floor and gives way to a suntrap courtyard. It hosts a gallery of photographs and news clippings from the 30s, 40s and 50s. They show what life was like in these parts when the pure sound of Italian vowels was as common as the glottal stop. In one frame, a small boy stands by his father, wearing short pants and a school cap. A pigeon perches passively on his head. I pointed and laughed. An elderly gent sitting by us was pleased I liked it so much. He loves that black and white picture of him and his old man, taken when when he was just a nipper.

Those who have got this far will have realised that this post doesn't even mention beer or pubs. However, good honest caffs are as much part of London life as the traditional boozer, and likewise are a species under threat. For a blog devoted to them, try eggbaconchipsandbeans.