When the capital’s cutting edge dining scene seems a bit too much like hard work, wallow nostalgically at this decent little Italian where both the menu and the decor appear unchanged since the ‘70s.

The Venue
James Street, at the southern end of Marylebone, is a pleasant location for an evening stroll, especially if you are hungry. Running north-south from Wigmore Street to Oxford Street, its impressive variety of dining options includes North African cuisine, Lebanese, a Mediterranean grill, upmarket burgers, sushi, tapas, crepes and more. Giovanni is one of two Italians vying for trade here. Its tiled floors, wood and wicker chairs and giant pepper mills will instantly transport you back to the ‘70s and that first visit to your neighbourhood Italian.

The Atmosphere
Cheesy Italian pop plays at a low level, just as it should, whilst friendly, apparently genuinely Italian waitresses, immaculately attired in black and white, bustle to and fro. Budget tourists feature prominently amongst the diners with the odd romantic couple thrown in.

The Food
If the decor doesn’t have you sighing nostalgically over David Cassidy, loon pants and the Austin Allegro, the unreconstructed ‘70s menu surely will. Trattoria Giovanni is a welcoming and relaxed place, and probably best for when you want a big plate of comforting, familiar pasta or a yummy pizza, maybe with an equally unchallenging tricolore salad (£5.90) or crumbed mushrooms (£4.80) to start. Having said that, you could push the boat out with a grilled Dover sole at £21 or fillet steak (£19.90). Sadly, the prices are the one thing that has changed since the 70s, although they are not out of kilter for central London.

Fourteen starters include pate, prawn cocktail and minestrone. Spag bol, cannelloni and carbonara feature among no fewer than 25 pastas, risottos and gnocchis. There’s an embarrassment of classic pizza, fish and meat options, too, with an unapologetically old-fashioned emphasis on veal. As if the choice were not more than wide enough already, daily specials are chalked on a board.

In an unwelcome break from tradition, no bread is offered whilst the laminated, green, red and white menus are perused. Half a melon (£3.70) is properly ripe and sweet, and has been prettied up with a bit of rudimentary carving. The cavity is filled with maraschino cherries, the kind that used to adorn snowballs at your Auntie Joan’s drinks parties. Avocado with prawns (£5.90) also arrives correctly ripe. The generous portion of smallish peeled prawns continues the period vibe, as does the enormous splodge of Marie Rose sauce. It would be easy to sneer at this lack of sophistication and modernity, and not notice that such retro grub still tastes delicious.

Of the mains, a thin-based Napoli pizza featuring cheese, tomato, anchovies, olives and capers (£7.90) is winningly salty and fishy, crisp at the edges and squidgy in the middle. It feeds two not particularly hungry diners when paired with a green salad (£3.80) which is heavy on the al-dente French beans and mouth-puckeringly vinegary dressing.

The menu advertises sweets from the trolley, but in fact they live in a refridgerated cabinet and might include apple flan, tiramisu and creme caramel. A selection of ice creams merits its own laminated menu with helpful pictures a la Italian seaside cafe. Chocolate cake (all desserts, including the ice creams, are £4.40) is a vast slice with a sponge base, white chocolate mousse and dark chocolate saucy topping. Again, true to the ‘70s, there is little depth of chocolate flavour. An equally generously proportioned selection of ice creams comprises scoops of chocolate, strawberry and vanilla (of course!), and tastes like those striped blocks of Neapolitan that used to nestle next to the frozen peas in the tiny freezer compartment of your mum’s 1970s fridge, especially the chocolate with its powdery, cocoa-y taste.

The Drink
The wholly Italian wine list contains 10 whites, 10 reds, a couple of roses and three sparkling options, rising from the house white and red (which are called simply that) at £15.10 to £42 for a Brunello di Montalcino and £52 for Moet & Chandon. Most bottles hover around the £20 which is not cheap for a place where pizzas and pastas are only about £8.

Only the anonymous house red and white are available by the glass (£3.60), half litre (£9.10) and litre (£18.50, so you’d save 30p by ordering two half litres!). Glasses of both arrive so full, it’s advisable to take your lips to the glass rather than vice versa, whilst swirling to release the aroma is clearly out of the question. A jug of tap water takes some securing, then arrives as two glasses, albeit with ice. Mineral water is £3.50 for half a litre, £4.50 a litre. A fair range of aperitifs, spirits, sherries and ports (Harvey’s Bristol Cream, Tio Pepe and Cockburns, naturally!), liqueurs, beers and cognacs complete the liquid options.

The Last Word
Leave your 21st-century preconceptions of what a restaurant should be at the door and take a trip down Memory Lane to a time when Asti Spumante (£19.90), crumbed veal escalope (£13.10) and deep-fried scampi with tartare sauce (£16.10) were the height of sophistication.

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