Infamy vs. Anonymity: Trattoria Sorrento & Carluccio's - Teddington, 24th & 27th December, 2012

Some time ago, I wrote this piece on a meal at a former favourite childhood haunt gone wrong. It was a meal that was poor but saddening at the same time. I have subsequently taken a lot of flak for this (read the comments) and it has become my most-read piece, which is somewhat unfortunate. I am not someone who wants to dismiss restaurants or indeed, to be seen as some internet hero, ragging on anywhere which is not fancy or ranked highly in the public eye.

What I am is honest. I would never contrive to give somewhere a pre-conceived review or stick the knife in for the sake of it. That meal at Sorrento was bad. It was bad cooking, bad service and a real disappointment because I really wanted to enjoy it. One year on, another Christmas Eve, the family booked a table and I was in the mood to be proved wrong.

Where last time I had been pretty unimpressed with a classic of yesteryear, I again re-approached another dish I used to enjoy : king prawns with garlic (left). Now I have to say that these were not terrible. Which sounds awfully negative but the memories of 2011 still weighed heavily. They weren't the best: slightly dry and not excessively tender, but the sauce was still the sumptuous sweet and acidic drizzle it used to be. So far, better than before with no question.

Around the table, things progressed as expected, with the family enjoying what they were served - it may be just me of course - and some of it was eye-catching. My brother tried a steak with tomato sauce which I found very dry and not so impressive. My father indulged in a stunning-looking double veal chop which turned out to be an onslaught of meat without much discernible merit. Any meat on the bone should be moist and tender - this was not.

I went for Saltimbocca for my main course. Veal with prosciutto and sage, white wine butter sauce...life doesn't really get better when it's done well. In this case, I didn't quite know what to make of the dish presented to me (right). The veal had been flattened so aggressively there was little of anything to actually taste. Tomato sauce was a mistake too. Why one would overwhelm an already part-destroyed dish, I couldn't say. I was bored by the third mouthful.

I tried some of the wife's chicken with white wine mushroom sauce and again I couldn't really see what they were going for (left). Dry, flat meat swamped in an over-rich sauce was a waste of everyone's time. Whereas the infamous visit of the year before had been a saddening, chastening experience, this was turning into one of perturbed, aggravated resignation. I started to feel that horrible feeling of just wanting to leave when you're supposed to be enjoying yourself.

Puddings came and went but barely registered. We tried panna cotta, one of the wife's favourites, but the overly-gelatinous slab of cream was beyond help, even when covered in fresh fruit (right). I was moodily resigned at this point, having hoped for something approaching passable and a redemption of sorts but I was left wanting for the second Christmas Eve in a row. The service had been laughable as last time as well, repeatedly being invasively rapped on the shoulder when I was asked to make an order. Maybe they recognised me after my first review.

A few nights later, my brother, my sister-in-law, the wife and I went a little further down the road to try a new chain restaurant location at the other end of the high street. I wrote this piece some time back about how Carluccio's is one of my favourite chain restaurants to visit because, more often than not, they get the simple things right. In fact, they can usually be depended on to hit all the notes that Sorrento had so squarely failed to.

We went for a quick dinner but in my mind this was going to be an interesting comparison between the critique-affirming nonsense we'd endured a few days prior. And here is the unsurprising conclusion: Carluccio's was better in almost every way. Delivering enjoyable food, straightforward service and okay prices, this is precisely what I am looking for in my local Italian restaurant.

Nothing was put on the table which resulted in head-in-hands abjection, nothing left a bad taste in the mouth (literally or figuratively) and it was a pleasant meal for four. A particular highlight was the crisp calamari to start (left). Served on brown paper, cooked properly with a slight resistance but soft, crunchy and with the right amount of sheen, this is food I can get on with.

Something as simple as a salad is a great barometer of where an Italian place is standing and Carluccio's got it right. Rocket, ham, tomatoes and mozzarella is easy enough but can also so easily go wrong (right). A simple starter made for sharing is a far cry from playing it safe and this was a nicely inclusive, rustic plate for the table.

The evening continued on the same theme. Linguine pasta was just about right - a mixture of cubed tomato, white wine sauce and well-prepared seafood (left). It was just simple, easily-produced but enjoyable food. Surely every neighbourhood Italian restaurant should be aiming for this sort of thing?

Desserts were a general triumph, with the wife's panna cotta being well-made but too full of rum for her liking (right). Fortunately, there were ample alternatives in the form of a proper chocolate fondant and a decent lemon tart (below left). And this really summed it up: everything we ordered was good. It sounds basic enough but it really does make a difference when the food you are eating is properly put together and served. Sorrento should take note of basic operational imperatives like this.

When I wrote my piece on the 2011 visit to Sorrento, I was beset by guilt, a doe-eyed longing for my youth and a nostalgic wish for them to learn from their mistakes and start producing memorable food for the right reasons. Then all the criticism started coming in and my stance hardened: I'm not making stuff up or looking at things with some cock-eyed pretence. This time, I hoped it would be better and - despite some improvement - it was still a poor meal.

And this is the essence of what my article title is about: do I embrace the infamy of saying I was wrong about Sorrento or do I go for the comfortable anonymity of nailing my colours to the mast of a vast chain restaurant which, in fairness, I have lauded previously. Well, as much as it would've hurt a couple of years ago to say: Carluccio's is better. Significantly better. When before I would've felt slightly bad telling people to avoid a neighbourhood institution in favour of a chain, now I feel vindicated. Bring on the backlash. Bring on the negativity. If anonymity is my choice I'm going down swinging.