Getting to Barbarella is a breeze – a stone’s throw from Canary Wharf’s glossy transport links, and yet it feels like you’ve slipped into a Fellini daydream with a splash of 1980s London glitz. The newest member of the Big Mamma family lands with a confident heel-click of theatrical flair, fabulous food, and a view that makes you wonder why more restaurants don’t flirt with the Thames.
Set in a prime waterside spot, Barbarella leans into opulence without tipping into parody. Floor-to-ceiling windows gaze out at the wharf’s whirring energy while reflecting the shimmer of the water – it’s Canary Wharf, yes, but through a dreamy soft-focus lens. Inside, the vibe is Soho House goes to Studio 54 via Quaglino’s – velvet booths, brass accents, moody lighting, and disco-glam touches that whisper “stay a while”… and we nearly did.
We landed at lunch, and while we told ourselves we’d be out in an hour – Barbarella had other plans. Settled into a plush booth with cocktails in hand, a dangerously smooth Full Bloom Negroni and a punchy Sicilian margarita, time started to melt. The music hums in that just-right sweet spot – energetic enough to lift your mood, soft enough to hear your lunch date say, “I think I’m in love… with this burrata.”
Let’s talk about that Burrata al Tartufo – creamy, earthy, and heady with truffle cream, truffle basil oil, and actual black truffle. A decadent little miracle. Paired with the Insalata di Zucchine e Caprino, a textural gem of grilled courgette, garlicky focaccia croutons on a bed of baby gem lettuce with walnuts and a citrus dressing, it was a duet of balance.
I left the wine selection to my friend, who truly knows her way around an Italian wine list, an Abruzzo native with serious wine-drinking credentials. We opted for a few by the glass, starting with the Etna Rosato from the volcanic slopes of Mount Etna and a Bardolino Chiaretto from Veneto – both excellent and refreshingly different.
For mains, the Pasta alla Vodka con Frutti di Mare won the seal of approval from my friend. It was “on point,” she said – creamy but with depth, the seafood fresh and generously portioned. I went for the Saltimbocca alla Romana, where English rosé veal and crispy Tuscan prosciutto did their buttery, wine-kissed dance – rich, bold, and unapologetically classic. A side of truffle potatoes came golden and addictive. To accompany the mains, she picked a glass of Montalcino, an elegant red from a historic Tuscan castle – and from her home region, a glass of the very drinkable Montepulciano.
Did we need dessert? Absolutely not. Did we order two? Naturally. The Tiramisù, scooped table-side from what can only be described as Nonna’s ceremonial dish, was a knockout – feather-light and boozy in the best way. But the real showstopper? The Pistacchio Profiterole Napoletana: a gelato-stuffed choux bomb lacquered in pistachio spread and dark chocolate. It’s not subtle, and it shouldn’t be.
We finished with espresso, sweetened with Supersonic Stardust (yes, really), because of course we did. Impressed enough to plan her next visit on the spot, my friend booked a table for her and her three friends to dine before the upcoming Lady Gaga concert at the O2. That’s the magic of Barbarella: it seduces you with glamour and feeds you with flair, and leaves you wanting just one more hour, one more bite, one more Negroni…
Mackenzie Walk, Unit 3 YY, Canary Wharf, London E14 5HX
Reservations recommended.
Cocktails from £13. Pasta from £17. Profiteroles? Absolutely worth it.
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