Let’s talk about the main event: the pasta is made fresh daily, which means it’s so soft and chewy it feels like a hug from a very well-dressed Italian aunt. I ordered the carbonara, and it arrived with a yolk so golden it looked like it was photoshopped. One bite, and I had a genuine religious experience—I’m not Catholic, but I almost crossed myself.
Here’s a surprising fact: La Mia Mamma refuses to use cream in their carbonara. None. Nada. It’s all egg, cheese, and pork cheek, which is the traditional Roman way. Most restaurants cheat; this one commits to authenticity like it’s a felony. The result? A sauce so rich and silky that you’ll want to bottle it and wear it as perfume.
The Lasagna: A Brick of Joy
If you’re feeling adventurous, try the lasagna. It’s not a delicate, layered affair—it’s a dense, molten brick of cheese and ragù that could double as a doorstop. One reviewer called it “the kind of food you’d eat before a fight,” and I agree. It’s so heavy that you’ll need a nap for the next 48 hours, but every bite is worth the eventual food coma.
LA MIA MAMMA HOLLYWOOD ROAD, London - South Kensington - Menu, Prices
Pro tip: bring a friend to share or accept that you’ll be rolled out like a human cannoli. The portions are comically large, almost as if the chef has a vendetta against small appetites.
