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Do not, under any circumstances, confuse Bar Blondie, a demure bistro in posh northwest London neighbourhood Queens Park, with Blondies, a scuzzy rock bar in Hackney. Not only because you’ll end up having to take a £30 Uber back, but mainly because when you’re craving bluefin tuna with stracciatella Pugliese, the last thing you want is to be doing shots with a grizzly man in a denim gilet to a soundtrack of Highway to Hell.
Bar Blondie is wilfully attractive, laid out like a living room with low, flattering lighting and a central bank of velvet sofas with booth seating all the way around the cream clapboard lined space, offering a soft landing everywhere you look. It’s the latest arrival on the extremely cute Lonsdale Road, a semi-pedestrianised stretch of converted Victorian stables that is now a nexus for nibbly bits, thanks to Don’t Tell Dad, Pyra and Carmel. Once home to Antipodiea-inspired cafe Milk Beach - and still run by the same team - Bar Blondie is an altogether more elegant proposition. The inspiration? For some reason, it’s spaghetti westerns, meaning Ennio Morricone’s rousing Ecstasy of Gold plays on a loop in the loos, there’s a solid pasta menu (though no actual spaghetti when we visit), and the bistro’s name itself, a tribute to ‘Blondie’, Clint Eastwood’s poncho-sporting antihero in The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, who looms handsomely over the room from a Japanese promo poster.
Creamy, crunchy and with a confident mustardy tang, we are instantly besotted
Bar Blondie is a bar by name, but nobody here is simply on the wines, this is a restaurant - how could it not be with food this good? Head Chef Alastair Walling learned his trade at some of London’s best (Native, Noble Rot, Albers and Maset) and it shows. Food here is fun and largely Italian; our first bite is crostini topped with a languid, glistening boccerone, a smear of smoked ricotta and slivers of green tomato. The flavours are heroic, but this might be the most violent toasted bread we’ve ever encountered, its razor sharp edges going at my tongue like Klaus Kinski’s flickknife wielding outlaw in For a Few Dollars More.
Kinder to our mouth is the veal tartate nicoise, which, in the best possible way, tastes exactly like a Big Mac. Creamy, crunchy and with a confident mustardy tang, we are instantly besotted, and are worried we’ll talk of nothing else for the next month. There’s a dish of torched mackerel too, in a soupy golden emulsion that contains nubs of melon and cucumber. It does need a touch of tartness to cut through the sweetness, but we’re not sure it needs all that pickled red onion - we remove it ourselves before necking the entire bowl of juice.
They’re proud of their pasta at Bar Blondie, and they should be. Big, buttery sheets of handmade fazzoletti are dressed generously with crab, chilli and lemon. Get that, a juicy glass of Nebbiolo and your favourite gossiping partners, and book your Bar Blondie booth now. It’s what Clint would want.
The vibe Dates and mates on the vino in a charming Victorian mews. It’s 21s and over, so no kiddies allowed.
The food Italian sharing dishes from crostini and focaccia to pastas and steaks.
The drink There’s a lengthy 60-bin wine list, and a shorter offering by the glass, as well as Italian-inspired cocktails, such as a margarita with a splash of amaretto.
Time Out tip Depending on when you come, there might be a chess and backgammon night (last Tuesday of every month), live music (Saturday afternoons), or a DJ (Fridays from 9pm).