To spot Zafferano, keep your peepers peeled to the right side of the street for a white-painted building with a big orange sign reading “ZAFFERANO” above a line of windows, tucked beside a much taller modern block.
Ah, Zafferano, right in the beating heart of Knightsbridge! Now, you might think, “Blimey, that’s a cheeky little spot hiding next to all these grand flats!” But trust me, inside those doors, there’s enough Italian flair to make your taste buds want to break out in a tarantella.
Opened by the legendary Giorgio Locatelli back in ‘95-yes, that Locatelli, the Savoy-trained maestro-Zafferano began life in a site that once served up fish suppers and London gossip. Giorgio, not satisfied with just any old menu, named the place after the Italian word for “saffron.” If you ask me, it’s a bit like naming your dog “Diamond”-already promising something lush as soon as you walk in.
But don’t be fooled by those posh Knightsbridge vibes. Locatelli’s menu championed Italian peasant fare-none of that poncy butter everywhere nonsense. The only dish allowed a dab was a plate of pappardelle with chicken livers and sage. Word on the street, folks still talk about the tiramisu here, perched inside a crispy tuile like it’s royalty on a pastry throne.
The drama? Oh, there’s plenty-a Michelin star twinkled here from ‘99 till 2012, and Locatelli himself earned Outstanding London Chef in 2001, before a row had him heading for the exit. The ownership swapped hands more times than a hot potato after that, and at one point, the bill folders got woven with real saffron. Yeah, saffron! But only the bill covers, mind, as the expense nearly gave ‘em palpitations.
Even without the star, Zafferano kept the charm flowing-AA Rosettes, rave reviews, a deli popping up in ‘07, and the sort of strawberries with 60-year-old balsamic vinegar that’ll make you swoon. So next time you’re nibbling a breadstick here, just remember, you’re tasting a slice of London food history, drama and all.
