The debate about what constitutes an authentic carbonara has been done so thoroughly it’s curdled in the pan. Guanciale or pancetta. Whole egg or yolks only. Spaghetti or rigatoni. Pecorino or Parmesan, or indeed both?
Cream? There is no cream. There has never been cream. And everyone now knows that, but it still gets mentioned in intros like this one. That’s not to say carbonara hasn’t been misunderstood, misquoted and mistreated since it left Rome and made its way onto menus across London. Christ, we’ve had some poor ones. But the better London’s understanding of what goes into a rote, by-the-book, to-the-letter carbonara, the more licence chefs have earned to experiment. Within fairly rigid confines, of course, but experiment nonetheless.
Underneath all of this, then, is the question that nobody ever quite resolves: is carbonara a recipe, or is it a principle? Because if it’s a recipe, half the dishes on this list don’t qualify. Here we’ve got Cantonese rice noodles. We’ve included deep-fried bites. A pizza gets the nod. And a 4kg cheese wheel worked by a waiter with a camera-ready wrist is an inclusion we’re slightly regretting before we even begin.
Sure, the traditionalists are still here, and they’re still excellent, but the outliers are making a case for carbonara as something bigger. A philosophy, perhaps.
Phew, we think that satiates the pedants and the righteous fury of Rome. With all that in mind, here’s where to eat the best carbonara in London right now.
For the record, a ‘proper’ Roman carbonara is egg yolks, guanciale, Pecorino Romano, black pepper, pasta and the starchy cooking water that binds it all together. Six ingredients and no negotiation.
Taverna Trastevere, Clapham Junction
Ideal for the traditionalists…
There is a restaurant in Rome (Da Enzo, if you’re asking) where the waiter will tell you, before you’ve even ordered, as he sets down the water, that the carbonara is salty. Not apologetically, but more as a statement of fact, delivered in the same way you might tell someone it’s raining. A carbonara should be salty.
The chefs at Taverna Trastevere, a neighbourhood trattoria on St John’s Hill near Clapham Junction, understand this instinctively, and their version delivers the dish exactly as it should be; crispy pork cheek with the right amount of chew and crackle, and a sauce that clings rather than pools. The default pasta is rigatoni, made in-house, though you can ask to swap it for tonnarelli if you prefer something the sauce grips a little differently.
It’s the best-selling dish on a menu built almost entirely around the Roman canon, served in a room that could plausibly exist on any side street in Trastevere itself. A textbook version, then, and the perfect place to start an article on London’s best carbonara.
PS. Start with the supplì carbonara – the famous dish moulded, breadcrumbed and deep-fried – and consider it a warm-up lap for what’s coming next.
Website: tavernatrastevere.com
Address: 112 St John’s Hl, London SW11 1SJ
Osteria Romana, Knightsbridge
Ideal for those who like their carbonara certified in black and white…
In case there was any lingering doubt about what you’re ordering, Osteria Romana’s menu spells it out: “Spaghetti with an Authentic Carbonara Sauce.”
It’s right there, in writing, lest you worry they might sneak in some cream when you’re not looking. The confidence is not misplaced. This Knightsbridge trattoria, set back on Park Close and decorated with black-and-white Italian photography and candlelit tables, takes the Roman oeuvre seriously, but their presentation of the headlining dish pushes boundaries ever so softly, perhaps to avoid waking nonna. Here, the carbonara arrives in a pan, for some reason.
Sorry, we were being flippant. The reason is actually purposeful; stainless steel pans retain heat much better than warm (or, indeed, cold) plates, preventing the delicate emulsion from clumping or seizing up.
The rest of the menu keeps the Roman flag flying high: cacio e pepe, bucatini all’amatriciana, rigatoni with oxtail ragu, and tripe with mint and pecorino. You’ll pay Knightsbridge prices, but then they have, after all, gone to the trouble of assuring you it’s authentic. And that’s got to be worth something.
Website: osteriaromana.co.uk
Address: 3-4 Park Cl, London SW1X 7PQ
Lupa, Highbury
Ideal for a celebrity-approved carbonara…
Lupa shouldn’t need a celebrity co-owner to get people through the door, but White Lotus actor (and rumoured next Bond) Theo James is one half of the operation, alongside Carousel co-founder Ed Templeton. Build it with one of the world’s most handsome men behind it, and they will come. The people did, indeed, come.
The two opened this 28-cover corner site on Highbury Park in 2025, with former Pidgin head chef Naz Hassan running a kitchen the size of a generous cupboard. Which, it turns out, is just enough room for some deft-wristed mantecatura work that results in a glossy, intensely golden sauce. You can see the carotenoid content in these hens’ diets from space, quite frankly. Somewhat controversially, the carbonara here is served with paccheri rather than spaghetti or rigatoni.
For a version this rich, a glass of Verdicchio is the move – a dry, high-acid white from Le Marche, bright with citrus and herbs, with enough cut to handle all that egg and guanciale without disappearing into it.
The dining room is compact. A converted Victorian shop front with pale washed walls, custom-built wooden benches and candlelit tables, it seats so few people that getting a table requires either planning or luck. On Arsenal match days, porchetta sandwiches are sold from the door for fans heading to the ground, which underlines the ‘neighbourhood restaurant’ aspirations of the place.
Website: lupa.restaurant
Address: 73 Highbury Park, London N5 1UA
Flour & Grape, Bermondsey
Ideal for a confit egg yolk with your carbonara…
The carbonara at Flour & Grape arrives with a confit egg yolk perched on top, its surface set just enough to hold its brief, fragile composure before collapsing in a heap of embarrassment the moment someone notes that it looks vaguely obscene, even though they don’t know why.
When you’ve eaten three carbonaras in quick succession, that kind of gentle innovation is welcome, if only for a talking point. It’s not only for that; this is one of London’s best versions, and certainly one of its silkiest. The spaghetti beneath is made in-house, the guanciale is rendered and crisp, and piercing that yolk, watching it spill into the pasta and enrich a sauce that was already rich to begin with, is one of those small, satisfying pleasures that never gets old.
Wine, then. With grape in the name, you’d expect the list to hold its own, and there’s a whole damn cellar to confirm you were right. Look for high-acid whites that cut through all that cheese and egg. A Frascati, a Pecorino from Abruzzo, or a Verdicchio from Le Marche all do the job. On our visit, the Verdicchio La Monacesca (available by the glass) worked well. Verdicchio usually does.
The restaurant, on Bermondsey Street a short walk from London Bridge, operates on a walk-in system via the WalkUp app, which in practice means a wait at peak times and a drink at the cocktail bar downstairs while you do.
Website: flourandgrape.com
Address: 214 Bermondsey St, London SE1 3TQ
Ave Mario, Fitzrovia
Ideal for spaghetti with spectacle…
La Gran Carbonara at Ave Mario is, unavoidably, a performance. A waiter arrives at the table bearing a hollowed-out 4kg wheel of pecorino, tips the spaghetti inside, and works the pasta through the molten cheese with theatrical wrist action that guarantees every phone at the table is recording. For some reason, he is bellowing along to some imaginary music.
This is a Big Mamma Group restaurant, the same Paris-born operation behind Gloria in Shoreditch, and the room matches that waiter’s ebullience; some 20,000 bottles line the walls, there’s a lot of crushed red velvet (surprisingly free from wine stains), and the Umberto Tozzi plays on a never-ending loop like someone showing off on the pasta machine.
Put the bartender and those bottles to work while you’re here, too. A Milano-Torino, Campari with sweet vermouth over ice, or a Pirlo, Campari lengthened with sparkling white, is the right call, that bitterness playing off the carbonara’s impossible richness.
Whether the carbonara itself justifies the spectacle is up to how much you love spectacle. The sauce is rich and aggressively cheesy in the way you’d expect from something finished inside an actual wheel of aged pecorino, the guanciale is present and correct, and the portion, which is a minimum order for two at around £19.50 per person, is generous enough that finishing it feels like an achievement.
There are people who will tell you this is not a serious carbonara. There are also people who have never eaten pasta out of a cheese wheel while everyone watches. Both groups are entitled to their opinions. If you want a carbonara that doubles as a dinner party anecdote, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting that, this is it.
Website: bigmammagroup.com
Address: 15 Henrietta St, London WC2E 8QG
Emilia’s Crafted Pasta, St Katharine Docks
Ideal for something a little lighter…
Most of the carbonaras on this list follow the Roman playbook dutifully. Emilia’s does things differently. Their version uses whole eggs rather than just yolks, which lightens the sauce. They use pancetta rather than guanciale, and serve it on bucatini, the hollow spaghetti-like tubes that trap the sauce inside every strand. The result is a carbonara that’s a little less rich, a little less salty and a little more approachable than its Roman counterpart, without losing any of the fundamental satisfaction of the dish.
Founder Andrew Sheridan developed the recipe after an 18-month stint learning from chefs across Italy, and it’s been a permanent fixture on the menu since the first site opened at St Katharine Docks back in 2016. Controversially, you can swap the pancetta out with smoked salmon; not one for the purists, but rather the pescatarians.
There are now multiple locations across London, from Aldgate to Victoria to Canary Wharf, making it one of the easier carbonaras in London to track down on a whim. You can also pick up packets of their dried bucatini in the restaurants, P.G.I. certified and made in Gragnano, if you want to have a go at the recipe at home.
Website: emiliaspasta.com
Address: Unit C3, Ivory House, St Katharine Docks, London E1W 1AT
Bancone, Covent Garden
Ideal for one of London’s most instantly recognisable pasta dishes…
From here, the definition of carbonara begins to loosen. Bancone’s signature silk handkerchiefs with walnut butter and confit egg yolk have been the most photographed pasta in London for years, but we’re not loosening the sauce that much. Fortunately, the restaurant also does a carbonara rendition as a returning special, so in Bancone goes.
It takes the same delicate fazzoletti pasta, folded into neat parcels with that feather-cut jagged edge, and pairs them with a carbonara sauce. Like the dish that made Bancone’s name, there’s a confit egg yolk sitting on top, ready to burst across the pasta the moment you wink at it.
It’s a good idea to call ahead to check the silk handkerchiefs carbonara is running before you make the trip, but when it’s available, it makes an already brilliant dish feel like a whole new thing.
The award-winning group now has five London locations, from Soho to Borough Yards to their latest in the City, but the Covent Garden original is the best, in the eyes of Michelin at least, who gave them a Bib Gourmand.
Website: bancone.co.uk
Address: 39 William IV St, London WC2N 4DD
Caia, Notting Hill
Ideal for a carbonara with a Chinese twist…
Hey purists, it’s time to fuck off. Further from tradition still is the carbonara at Caia, where chef John Javier replaces Italian pasta entirely with cheung fun, the Cantonese steamed rice noodles that give the dish an airy, slippery, sticky texture bearing no resemblance to anything you’d find in a Roman trattoria.
Javier arrived at Caia having previously cooked at Noma, Momofuku Seiōbo and P. Franco. His menu at the Notting Hill restaurant, which he joined as executive chef in late 2025, draws on his Filipino-Australian background and his stacked CV to produce bistro food that marauds across the globe with scant regard for dogma.
Javier isn’t the first chef with a Momofuku connection to see carbonara through an Asian lens. David Chang has his own carbonara-inspired instant noodles, a chilli crunch version released through his Momofuku Goods line, suggesting the dish travels east more readily than its Roman guardians might like to admit.
The crossover has a certain logic to it. Carbonara was workers’ food; one origin story credits the carbonai, the charcoal burners who spent months in the Apennines, with giving the dish its name. The ingredients fit their circumstances: portable, shelf-stable, and simple enough to prepare over whatever fire they had going. Cheung fun has its own working-class roots in Guangdong, where street vendors steamed rice batter fresh in minutes, rolling it plain or filled with beef, pork or shrimp before dousing it in soy, sesame oil or hoisin. Both dishes rely on a handful of ingredients done well, and Caia’s cheung fun carbonara is done very well indeed.
A cacio e pepe version is currently on the menu, but the carbonara cheung fun is an off-menu special – just ask the team if they can do it.
Pizza Pilgrims, Soho
Ideal for carbonara on a pizza base…
Carbonara pizza isn’t the novelty it used to be – it’s been creeping onto menus across both Rome and London for a while. Hell, even Tesco does one, and it really is foul.
At Pizza Pilgrims, their studied Neapolitan-style base, built on the group’s 72-hour double-fermented dough, is topped with thin rashers of guanciale, Pecorino Romano, fior di latte mozzarella, and black pepper, and a whole egg yolk is swirled over the top. So far, so pizza carbonara. But then come the strands of cooked spaghetti. Pasta on a pizza. It’s the detail that makes first-time orderers hesitate and second-time orderers evangelise.
The spaghetti adds texture rather than bulk, a bit of intrigue and chew that makes this one really fun to eat. It has been a permanent fixture on the menu across all of Pizza Pilgrims’ London locations since the early days, which means it has survived the scrutiny of both the Roman culinary cognoscenti and the British dining public, a harder crowd than it sounds. At around £15 a pie and with over a dozen sites across London, it’s one of the more accessible entries on this list.
Website: pizzapilgrims.co.uk
Address: 11 Kingly St, Carnaby, London W1B 5PW
Eataly, Liverpool Street
Ideal for a double whammy of carbonara…
Eataly’s Taste of Roma menu, which has been running since 20th April, makes the case for the Roman canon as a complete proposition rather than a single dish. Carbonara, amatriciana and cacio e pepe all appear, and unusually, each is served as both pasta and pizza. It’s a setup that lets you order across the holy trinity of Roman pasta without committing to any one of them.
Mi scusi, could I order a round of ‘paradox of choice’, grazie?
The carbonara itself is textbook, and rest assured that once the Taste of Roma menu ends, the carbonara stays on as a permanent fixture, served with rigatoni rather than spaghetti, which is the choice most Roman trattorias would make if pressed.
The Liverpool Street site is the only Eataly in the UK, occupying a substantial corner of Broadgate with a market, bakery, pasta counter and several restaurants spread across the space, so the carbonara is just one stop on a much longer Italian crawl if you have the appetite for it.
Website: eataly.co.uk
Address: 135 Bishopsgate, London EC2M 3YD
Read: The best restaurants near Liverpool Street
Alley Cats, Portobello Road
Ideal for a deep-fried carbonara bite…
Deep-fried carbonara isn’t the heresy it sounds. Supplì carbonara has been a fixture of Roman fritti for years (Taverna Trastevere served us a fine version all those paragraphs ago, after all). What Alley Cats brings is a New York pizzeria’s take on the format. At their new Portobello Road location, which opened in March 2026 with a grab-and-go slice hatch on the ground floor and a sit-down dining room above, they arrive golden, crisp and, when you bite into them, unmistakably carbonara in flavour if not in form.
Sicilian head chef Francesco Macri developed the bites for the Portobello opening alongside the group’s Fat Cat Squares, their interpretation of thick-crusted Sicilian pizza. The bites work best as a starter before one of Alley Cats’ 14-inch NYC-style pies rather than as a carbonara destination in their own right. But as a demonstration of how far the dish can be pushed before it stops being itself, they do the job.
Although if you were just going to order plates of these for dinner, we wouldn’t judge.
Website: alleycatspizza.co.uk
Address: 233 Portobello Rd, London W11 1LT
You’ll find Alley Cats in our roundup of the best pizza in London for 2026, if you’re still hungry.
