"If you walked past Amaretto on a Saturday night, you will see grandmas. Perhaps not yours, but somebody's. And just like your grandmother's very own kitchen, Amaretto serves up good, unpretentious grub at fair, fair prices (yes, my grandma charges me for food. Doesn't everybody's? . Now, I've been to Amaretto a number of times, but one particular occasion does stick in the memory. I hail from the suburbs of north London, and a couple of school friends decided to stage a bit of a get together in Edgware. Where to eat? they hooted. Follow me, I exclaimed, and led them to the bottom of the high street where Amaretto is to be found. Upon walking through the doors to the inevitably busy dining area within, you're greeted heartily by the staff. They may have never met you before, but they're already your friend. They're delighted to see you. Of course, they would be, you're a paying customer. But they seem to have no shortage of those. Then again, is this in no small part a result of their genial attitude? On this occasion I seem to remember getting a basic cheese and tomato pizza with mushrooms. They didn't get it wrong. They never seem to. As always, the pizza was a wholesome size, the ingredients fresh, the taste sincere and true. I've had many things off the menu over a number of visits, and they don't tend to drop the ball, come pizza or pasta, rain or shine. But what I think is most memorable about Amaretto is, quite simply, the atmosphere. Yes, it may be full of elderly folk. But these are talkative folk, happy to wag their chins, having a hearty meal and this serves to create a relaxed and hearty atmosphere. You'll have a sociable time in Amaretto. Screw Flanders."
