In this written series, we find out the personal histories behind some of London’s favourite Italian delicatessens.
I’ve interviewed my fair share of celebrities, but I can safely say I’ve never ended an interview stroking a celebrity dog. That is, until I meet Renata at Giacobazzi’s delicatessen in Hampstead. Suddenly, I’m holding the lead of a black, fluffy thing named Wesley, who belongs to a member of Pink Floyd while her son Carlo cuts him some cheese. Since she’s distracted with stroking, I use it as a ploy to retrieve the secrets of their famous porcini lasagne recipe. I’m unsuccessful. Yet I leave with enough trays to fill my freezer for an upcoming apocalypse so I can try to work it out for myself.
Raff and Renata have been running this elegant and iconic spot since 1991. In the early days it was just the two of them, with son Carlo joining as soon as he was old enough to muck in. Now, it’s not just those three; they’re a twelve-person team, mostly Italian. Together they make fresh pasta and serve customers, working tirelessly behind-the-scenes in this always-busy spot. Family means more than blood, Carlo shares: “It’s always been a tight unit of people working together even the ones who aren’t directly related. It’s very much a feeling of togetherness.”
The family’s hospitality isn’t limited to these counters. Team Pasta Grannies were invited into their home while filming one summer in Italy in the town of Montese. They shared long lunches, drinks at dusk, and filmed beloved grandmothers, plus invited everyone over to make Zampanelle. Sadly, their home isn’t an official agriturismo, so we can’t send you there. Instead we’re regulars at 150 Fleet Road and will send every raviolo-lover in London in their direction.
I pop in late morning. A gentle trickle of customers enters in mid-morning sunshine before the onslaught of hungry lunch-timers arrives from Royal Free Hospital across the road. As I approach, I watch fresh ravioli being made at the front counter and wave hello to Carlo who is tucked at the back preparing sandwiches (he completes over 80 during the course of the interview). I perch by the coffee machine with Renata for our chat. I made a mistake in skipping breakfast; directly in my eyeline, Carlo places beautiful chiffon scarves of prosciutto on open ciabatta, topping them with rucola, while eavesdropping on our conversation about Italy’s food. He offers up his ultimate confession: “Are you talking about my obsession with fish fingers?” he interjects.
Renata recalls raised eyebrows from teachers when Carlo was asked about his favourite foods: “Fish Fingers and Broccoli!” he would enthuse. Carlo’s daughters followed suit at similar age, shouting to nonna Renata in Anglo-Italian rebellion: “No we don’t want parmigiano, we want cheddar!” We laugh. “They’ve grown out of that now, thankfully.” She looks at Carlo. “And he soon graduated on to smoked salmon and truffle; he loves truffle,” she continues, shooting me a glint of relief.
Truffle is an integral part of this place’s identity; so are porcini mushrooms, hand-filled pasta, and slow-cooked ragùs. Originating from just outside Bologna, the Giacobazzi family pride themselves some of Emilia-Romagna’s best food, but stock products from all over Italy. I ask Carlo about the selection within these well-packed walls. It’s a transportive tour within just a few square metres of NW3. “Fantasy,” he says. “A sort of feeling of wonder and awe when you step into the shop; all these special, different Italian things.” Their lack of strict regionality showcases cosmopolitan ways. “We’re from Emilia-Romagna but we’re not solely focused on [that]; we have a bit of everything, products from Sardinia, Sicily, and other regions too.”
Owners Renata and Raff are an Italian love story for the books; a young holiday romance turned lifelong marriage. They met under a chestnut tree near her friend’s grandmother’s house in Italy one summer. She was there with her cousins; he was nearby with friends. She was sat high in the branches, and he walked over, lit his lighter, asking who she was. “I’m the English,” she replied coyly. (L’Inglese was her nickname.) She then went home to tell mum: “I’ve met the man I’m going to marry.” And well? The rest is history.
Renata had eyes bigger than her belly. “When I married him, I didn’t know he could cook.” The deli was never their life plan; in fact, they initially resisted the idea of hospitality. “I’d always said I was never going to do [restaurants]; too much work. Then on honeymoon Raff makes me the most amazing pasta with crab.” That’s when she got a taste for the idea. “We still make it here. It’s my favourite still,” she says.
Raff is a man of fewer words (not hard when Renata has enough charm for both England and Italy). “Typical Aries,” Renata smirks. “Doesn’t want any friends. Everyone loves him.” Raff is the culinary genius behind the dishes. Not only are his wry remarks and warm humour a hit, but his porcini lasagne brings in crowds. Megan from the Pasta Grannies team was brought up on the stuff. In fact, her son (also called Raf) might have got his name from somewhere. I ask for more details about Renata’s nickname, L’Inglese. She’s always had family in England and was brought up as much on beans on toast as she was pastina in brodo. Renata points at Carlo who now delicately slices mortadella for a customer. “He definitely considers himself Italian.”
Their porcini lasagne isn’t just a customer favourite. “My granddaughters compare everything they eat to that.” And the next generation are involved in upholding its legacy; becoming mushroom hunters. While Renata manages to prevent sharing the family’s secret recipe, they do let me in on where they forage: “We go to the New Forest. It’s a bit of a drive, but beautiful.”
Surely this dish is served up for family events? Or is that too much like work? “It’s tortellini in brodo for us, for any special occasion,” she says. “We don’t make them for the shop; the price would be a lot, even though I don’t think our Italian customers would mind.” The making is a full family affair with three generations folding parcels at the table. “It’s wonderful. And [the girls] do exactly what me and my brother used to do: stuffing, check nobody’s looking, nibble a bit.”
This story enlivens her other pasta memories. She shares childhood summers folding dough in her aunt’s cool stone kitchen: “The best afternoons were with me, my cousins, two aunts, and mum, just standing there for a few hours, making and listening.” She recounts the massive tagliere with big wooden lid. “We hung all the pasta on the madia. She used to roll one huge sheet; it would never break, like silk.”
It’s not always smooth and silky business, though. I ask what it’s like working alongside her husband and son. “Oh we’re fiery,” Renata says, “but we agree on the fundamentals.” She points to Carlo, angelically smiling while spooning mushrooms Raffaello into a takeaway container. “He’s calmer. [Raff and I] we’ve always been expressive. But we still all enjoy being together.”
I am nosy to my detriment so continue to probe. “I hope when we retire, we still get on. We have friends who are retiring and finding it challenging. I think we’ll find it less so because we’re used to being together.” My ears prick up at the mention of retirement. It’s a while off for the Giacobazzis yet. “I’m still in the office six days a week; there’s always something. Raff is in the kitchen; he doesn’t need to be, but he wants to be.” They clearly love this place. It might be (in addition to those strong Italian genes) what keeps them so young. “We’ll have to pull ourselves away eventually,” she sighs. I wonder if the baton will be passed to Carlo. “Hopefully,” he says, cheeks blushing.
When the time comes, what’s the plan? “Hopefully we can still walk! We like to travel. We started work straight away, so we never did anything. We’ve done holidays for birthdays: South America, Mediterranean cruises, but not as much as we’d like.”
It’s been 33 fulfilling years of serving customers. During that time, they’ve seen at least three generations come through the doors. Kids who once barely reach the counter now come in holding babes in arms. Renata knows them all by name. Business has evolved with the times. “It’s changed. Our customers have changed, a few have gone. We miss people. Covid changed things a lot.” Their products were classified ‘essential goods but having to ration boxes of pasta felt scary. “We were lucky to be able to stay open.” They managed to stay busier than ever during such a difficult time. More importantly, they offered people the chance to connect, shelling out culinary education for free: “People would come in and say ‘I don’t know about any of this but I’ll try!’” Giacobazzi’s is an informal learning experience; one where new knowledge is offered up without judgement. No snootiness. Just keep your post-dinner latte a secret from Renata. When it comes to that, she’s 100% Italian.
The pandemic may be over, but now they face other trading challenges. “Brexit has been very problematic because of prices. Paperwork has more than doubled,” she sighs. Products are often held up.; some cheeses and meats stopped being available with foot-and-mouth. “I feel for my suppliers,” she shares.
Raff appears later on in the interview. He’s a man of deep flavours and witty one-liners. I ask if he can try describe the deli in three words. “Will we survive’,” he pauses, adding: “question mark,” for wry comic effect. We laugh before he shares a final answer: “ready-made freshness.” No-nonsense. Much like the man himself.
As for survival? Well, Hampstead is a starry spot. Harry Styles, Dame Judi Dench, and Dame Emma Thompson live round the corner and this deli has many rumoured celebrity clients, including Helena Bonham Carter, Michael Palin, Keira Knightley, and members of Pink Floyd. Renata plays it down. They’re humble, homely, and definitely not selling stories to nosy press like me here. She mentions one celebrity, keeping him anonymous to respect his privacy: “He’s my hero. I was very vocal about it the first time.” They thought after her fan-girling he’d never come back but now he’s a regular. “We have this lovely arrangement where I adore him; he lets me adore him!”
I’m not surprised he returned. There are plenty more reasons to walk through this door than just your chance of spotting the rich and famous. Come for some of the best pasta you’ll ever taste and step back in time while protecting the future of some of Italy’s most delicious recipes. It’s a wondrous place; remarkably fast-paced for being so small, full of luxury ingredients and even richer conversations. The clientele isn’t the only thing Renata is playing down; she’s underselling their warmth and work ethic. This is a place you’ll immediately feel at home.
And in my humble opinion, who should be the real celebrities of Hampstead? The wonderful Giacobazzis, of course.
Visit the deli at: 150 Fleet Rd, London NW3 2QX
Do you have a favourite deli you’d like us to visit? Let us know. If you liked this, there’s more Behind the Counter content on the Pasta Grannies website. Or, if you fancy going further afield why not see other notes from our travels on our blog.
