Saturday afternoon the wife & I — at a loose end, hungry, and emboldened by the positive comments already posted here — decided to check out the latest addition to the burgeoning gastronomic scene in Camberwell, the Italian restaurant Caravaggio, on Camberwell Church Street.
If I eavesdropped correctly, it’s been opened by a former employee(?) of Mozarella & Pomodoro (and is seemingly in competition, therefore). It’s decorated in a much more modern, gastropub‐y way than its sensei, in warm tones of brown and cream, with lots of wallpaper and classic artworks throughout. In front are smaller cafe tables, while the large room at the rear has bigger tables for dining.
Food is basically panini and pasta; the wife had sausage in a tomato sauce, I went for mushroom ravioli. Both were good; not excellent, but good. Hers was a little spicy for her taste, mine a little small for mine. But for approximately a fiver each, we were pretty satisfied. I then had a nice custard tart for dessert, while she ate a delicious home‐made tiramisu. Plus a juice each, coffee and hot chocolate, the whole thing came to about £18.
We were pretty impressed by the experience, so on the whole it’s a welcome addition to the area. Whether our limited market can support two Italian restaurants is a different matter.
Took a quick walk through Butterfly Walk afterwards, and saw that another two shops have closed/are closing. That leaves about five empty units in there, which is a scandalous situation for what should be the prime shopping area. Something is not right there.
Then into the Hermit’s for a pint of Westons and a read of the paper in front of the roaring‐effect fire. I like the Hermit’s scruffy charm, although I rarely go there because it’s marginally out of easy walking distance. With all the bars and gastros around, it’s nice to have a no‐frills boozer as an option.
But did I really see a statuette of an old lady holding what seems to be, from a distance, a large — *ahem* — penis? Can any regulars confirm that, or was it just a product of my over‐active imagination?