GAVIN AITCHISON heads for Shambles, and finds that the old ones can indeed be the best.


CAST your minds back, those of you who can, to 1978.

Abba, Rod Stewart and Kate Bush were topping the charts. Cinema-goers were being terrified by Jaws II and swept off their feet by Grease.

Brian Clough’s Nottingham Forest were champions of England and steadily conquering Europe. Jim Callaghan was Prime Minister and still leading that young upstart Maggie Thatcher in the polls.

And half way up Shambles, a little Italian called Ristorante Bari was opening its doors to its very first customers.

Two years earlier, it had opened as Peppino’s, claiming to be York’s first pizzeria. It was badly damaged in a fire though, and when it reopened in 1978 it took on the new name, that of the owner’s home city in Puglia.

History, of course, can be fickle and unpredictable. The winter of discontent sent Callaghan and Labour into the wilderness, and Forest have gone spiralling down the football leagues, rendering their Wuthering Heights as distant a memory as Kate Bush’s.

But 30 years on, how has little old Bari worn the passing years? As Abba suggested, I took a chance and went to find out.

A trawl through our archives shows the place has changed little. Possibly quite chic and modern in the 1970s, Bari now feels like a vintage, old-school Italian – cheerful, noisy and packed.

We arrived at 7.45pm last Saturday, and were glad we had booked, as staff dashed around, squeezing between the crowded tables, shouting frantically.

The chaos that pervades much of Italian life can be endearing, but only until it actually matters to you, and we got off to an ominous start. We ordered red wine and initially got white and asked for two bottles of Peroni, but instead got two pints of another lager.

Thereafter though, we were generally impressed. I started with suppli alla Romana – three large balls stuffed with Arborio rice and mozzarella, encased in a breadcrumb crust and coated in tomato sauce. The sauce was rich and wholesome; the rice balls nice and light; but the price perhaps slightly on the steep side at £5.85.

My guests Val and Pete – who, unlike me, could at least remember 1978 – shared bruschetta with tomatoes, anchovies and basil (£3.95). They got three slices, with a decent-sized topping. They were satisfied, but felt the tomatoes were a bit too cold.

Both those dishes were fairly generic Italian fare, probably little different to that served back in ’78. But for the main course, Val and I turned to the more innovative Christmas specials menu. Val went for the salmone con Cartoccio (£10.75), while I opted for fettucine con prosciutto and limone (£8.75).

Pete, meanwhile, went for a traditional pizza calzone, with mozzarella, ham, tomato and oregano (£7.55) and came up trumps. The calzone was large, the crust suitably thin, and the fillings generous and flavoursome, which is all one can ask of a pizza.

Pete said the best calzone he’d had was just up the road at La Vecchia Scuola, but he said this one came a good second.

Val’s salmon steak was baked in a foil parcel with mixed seafood and herbs, and came with side dishes of potatoes and cheesy carrots.

The salmon was still in the foil when it was served, which was practical at least, if not pretty. It was a tasty and pleasant dish but the salmon was a little too well done, meaning the accompanying prawns were harder and chewier than Val would have liked.

The fettucine – served with ham, lemon, peas and cream – was also a winner. It was reminiscent of a carbonara dish, but with more vivacity and depth. I got a vast portion, but could happily have eaten more if it were there.

All three mains were hefty, leaving little room for dessert. Nonetheless, I thought I’d try the Toscanella – a chocolate, pastry, fruit and cream concoction from Tuscany. It was delicious, but not best advised after two sizeable courses. We added two coffees and another beer, which took the bill for three to £64.90, which we felt was fair.

When I told friends in advance that I was heading to Bari, several had been underwhelmed. They do say familiarity breeds contempt, and Bari has perhaps suffered in recent years for putting pizzas over pizzazz.

But after 30 visibly successful years, the crowds and food continue to speak for themselves. Unlike some, this 1978 classic has stood the test of time.


Food fact file:

Food: Authentic

Service: Frenetic

Value: Decent

Ambience: Vintage