Il Ristorante – Niko Romito
47F, Bvlgari Hotel Shanghai
Lane 108, North Shanxi Road, Jing’an District, Shanghai
Tel: +86 21 3606 7788

The dishes

Scampi, pepe rosa, prezzemolo e olio extravergine d’oliva
Langoustines, pink pepper, parsley and extra virgin olive oil

Ventresca di tonno arrostita con zucchine alla scapece
Roasted tuna belly with zucchini, vinegar and mint

Maialino croccante con salsa all’arancia
Crispy suckling pig with orange caramel sauce

Agnello, mandorla e pesto mediterraneo
Lamb, almond and Mediterranean pesto

Spaghetti e pomodoro — added at the end
Spaghetti with Niko Romito’s signature tomato sauce

The culinary language of Il Ristorante – Niko Romito begins, of course, with Niko Romito. The Abruzzo-born chef established his reputation at the three-Michelin-starred Reale, while for Bvlgari Hotels he developed a more immediately recognisable expression of contemporary Italian cooking: familiar ingredients and direct compositions, underpinned by the same emphasis on purity, concentration of flavour and reduction to the essential.

The Shanghai kitchen was later entrusted to Luca Di Benedetto, a very good choice, frankly. Born in Milan, Luca trained at ALMA and worked at The St. Regis Florence before joining the Giorgio Armani Group in 2018 as Corporate Head Chef, overseeing its international restaurant operations. In 2024, he moved to Shanghai to become Chef de Cuisine at Il Ristorante – Niko Romito.Luca’s task is not to create an entirely new culinary language, but to work within Romito’s already clearly defined framework. What is more interesting is how he interprets that philosophy and translates it into the rhythm and personality of his own kitchen.

The clearest impression from this recent dinner was one of precision without heaviness, while preserving the natural character of the ingredients. These are not insubstantial dishes. Sauces, acidity, fat and texture all have a distinct presence, yet they rarely obscure the principal ingredient. Seafood still tastes first and foremost of the sea; meat is not redefined by sauces and garnishes. Cooking of apparent simplicity is often the more demanding kind: once the number of elements on a plate is reduced, there is very little room for shortcomings in ingredient quality, cooking or seasoning to hide. That precision was already apparent in the opening courses.

The scampi with pink pepper, parsley and extra virgin olive oil was a particularly direct composition. The natural sweetness and delicate texture of the langoustines remained firmly at its centre; pink pepper, parsley and olive oil extended the aromatic range and texture without attempting to redefine the ingredient. The flavours were clear, the seasoning precise, and most importantly, the sweetness of the scampi remained intact. The roasted tuna belly with zucchini, vinegar and mint presented a different challenge. Tuna belly is naturally rich and can quickly become tiring when pushed too far. Here, the kitchen resisted adding further weight. Zucchini introduced a fresh vegetal element, vinegar supplied the necessary acidity, and mint added another layer of herbal freshness. The fish remained succulent and generous in texture, yet the dish was remarkably clean and light on the palate, without the cloying quality that can accompany such a fatty cut. Crucially, none of these supporting elements obscured the flavour of the tuna itself.

The same thinking continued into the main courses.

The crispy suckling pig with orange caramel sauce was one of the strongest dishes of the evening. The skin was roasted to a fine, brittle crisp, breaking cleanly under the bite, while the meat underneath remained tender and succulent. More impressive was how little weight the dish carried despite the natural richness of the pork. The orange caramel was used with restraint, its citrus lift and gentle bittersweetness tempering the fat rather than adding another layer of richness. Crisp on the outside and succulent within, it remained unexpectedly light on its feet. The lamb with almond and Mediterranean pesto moved into deeper flavours. Almond brought roundness and texture, while the Mediterranean pesto added an aromatic herbal dimension, but the flavour of the lamb remained clearly defined. Even at this stage of the meal, the kitchen resisted using heavier jus or additional garnishes simply to manufacture complexity; the elements supported rather than competed with one another. After the main courses, we decided to add a Spaghetti e pomodoro. In some ways, it became the most direct expression of the kitchen. There are no luxurious ingredients or complicated combinations here, only pasta and tomato. The tomato flavour was intensely concentrated and full, yet retained just enough lively acidity; the sauce clung closely to pasta that still had a proper bite, with plenty of concentration but none of the excessive sweetness that reduction can sometimes bring. The more familiar the dish, the fewer places there are for the kitchen to hide. After seafood and two meat courses, this last-minute plate of spaghetti delivered a different and much more immediate form of satisfaction. Concentrated tomato, focused sweet-sour intensity and strands of pasta thoroughly coated in sauce made it almost impossible not to keep eating. At that point, technique receded into the background, leaving something more instinctive: the uncomplicated pleasure of eating well, and that particular sense of happiness that only carbohydrates seem able to provide.

We opened a bottle of Bollinger La Grande Année 2014. Its vinosity and structural depth give it considerable versatility at the table, allowing it to move well beyond the role of an aperitif. What I found particularly interesting, however, was the restaurant’s by-the-glass selection. A mature Château Gruaud Larose 2005, Saint-Julien, for example, is available by the glass in a full 150 ml pour. With mature Bordeaux, that is enough wine to follow its evolution in the glass over the course of a dish without having to open an entire bottle for the main course. More unusual still was Xiao Yun by Ao Yun 2013. Xiao Yun should not be confused with the flagship Ao Yun; they are separate wines. A 2013 Xiao Yun is itself increasingly uncommon, and the opportunity to revisit a Yunnan Cabernet-based wine with more than a decade of bottle age by the glass is ultimately more interesting than simply seeing another list crowded with famous labels. A genuinely good wine list is not defined only by how many expensive bottles it contains. It should also allow diners to encounter worthwhile wines at meaningful stages of their development, and in quantities that make sense over the course of a meal. Adrian, Jacky and the entire restaurant team also deserve mention. The service was professional and natural, with very good pacing and none of the excessive ceremony that can sometimes accompany fine dining. The evening felt comfortable and relaxed, leaving enough space for both the cooking and the wines to speak for themselves. From kitchen to table, this was a dinner defined by precision and restraint, but above all one that remained genuinely pleasurable.

Tasting Notes