La Gabbia, Boyd St, Newcastle

Aug 16 2009 by Sunday Sun

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AS regular readers of Sunday Scran will know, I never seem to tire of a traditional British Sunday lunch.

Maybe it’s the sun getting to me, or call it a mid-life crisis, but this week I fancied something a bit different.

Our neighbour Alessandro – the Italian Stallion, as Mrs Eats calls him – told us about a restaurant called La Gabbia that’s just started doing authentic Italian Sunday lunches.

Now, for those who don’t know much about the Italian way of life, these are big family affairs that can take all day. Some elderly guests have even been known to kick the bucket between one of the many courses, such is the epic length of these feasts.

The idea is to bring along the whole extended family – not forgetting some colouring books for the bambinos and Sunday papers for the grown-ups, should the conversation run dry between courses. You can even take your own booze as the restaurant doesn’t have an alcohol license. Well, that swung it for me!

So armed with my copy of the Sunday Sun, we navigated the Eatsmobile through the winding back alleys of Ouseburn till we found the restaurant on the corner of Boyd Street, which is just behind the Biscuit Factory on Stoddart Street.

First impressions were good. The reception seating area had a bold, modern wallpaper in brown and orange, which caught Mrs Eats’ eye. “Ooh that’s nice,” she said, elbow jabbing at my ribs. I’ve a feeling I’ll be doing some re-decorating soon.

She Who Must Be Fed lapped up the attentions of the manager . . . a rather jovial type, well-suited to front of house. Then it was time for the mammoth meal – five courses for a pretty reasonable £12.95. After a few glugs of our supermarket-bought Rose – with a £1 per bottle corkage fee – we were presented with the first course, or “antipasto”. This consisted of Italian cured meats, olives and salad – the kind of selection familiar to anyone who’s ever dined Italian style. It was pretty standard stuff, but very nice.

This whetted our appetite for the second course of “broddo”, a kind of chicken broth with some mysterious bits floating in it called stracciatella. Turns out it was egg and parmesan. Delicious.