Liverpudlian Lasagna Legends Casa Italia Are Now Delivering in Manchester

“Once again, my life has been saved by the miracle of lasagna.”

– Garfield

That chill ginger cat had it right, didn’t he? Hated Mondays, loved lasagna. We really don’t talk enough about how heroic he was. Lasagna saves lives. It’s a universal truth passed down through generations, both by cartoon orange felines and, perhaps most importantly for the city of Manchester now, the Campolucci-Bordi family.

The Campolucci-Bordi’s have been serving up plate and bowlfuls of homemade Italian goodness for 44 years in Liverpool city centre, attracting the likes of Paul McCartney and Liam Gallagher through their doors in the process. And, after conquering Merseyside for over four decades, they’ve now expanded their North West operation into Manchester.

Setting up shop in a takeaway unit on the Aldow Industrial Estate in Ardwick, Casa Italia (not to be confused with the Didsbury establishment of the same name, which is also well worth a visit when we’re finally rid of the tier three shackles) are driving their pastas, pizzas and desserts to anyone who wants them within a three-mile radius.

Standing room only on Stanley Street. Image: Casa Italia

 

And in an era of more refined Italian cooking, in which regional or less explored dishes have been promoted to the fore, often with spectacular results (here’s looking at you, Salvi’s and Sugo), there’s a heartwarming sense of relief when Casa Italia’s old school portions put a bend in your dining room table, ready to nurture your soul back to full health after another day of Covid catastrophes on the news.

When you peel back the tinfoil of your delivery order, what greets you is Pavarotti sized portions of the good stuff. The good stuff that you crave when the mercury begins to hover around one degree celsius on a regular basis. The good stuff that will leave you comatose after half a serving, but somehow energise you enough to keep powering through until every last drop of sauce is speckled across the final slice of cheesy garlic bread and dropped into your mouth.

So this is where I loop back to my ode to lasagna. More and more, the iconic al forno dish of beef and béchamel is being reimagined as a more premium offering, with short rib, beef shin and brisket replacing the humble beef mince in the ragú. There’s a lot of slow cooking involved and everything is very fucking sumptuous and indulgent yet, somehow, nothing is ever going to knock that whopping slab your mum lands on your plate on Saturday night while it’s lashing down outside. Half a garlic baguette on the side and you’re golden for the night.

The beauty in Casa Italia’s offering lies precisely here. It’s the exact same serving you would have expected when Cavaliere Mario Campolucci-Bordi threw open the doors on Liverpool’s Stanley Street in 1976 – ragú and béchamel ooze seamlessly together around layers of perfectly cooked lasagna sheets, providing just the correct amount of crunch on top, complemented by an al dente chew within. There’s no premium glow up. It’s a no nonsense, boisterous behemoth of a serving that resembles everything a lasagna should be; The pick-me-up from your mum/partner after a shit day at school/work, the arm round the shoulder and ‘ah mate’ after a break up, the reward after doing well on your exams or scoring the winner in your Saturday League game. It’s a can’t fail go-to meal when times are good and, most relevant to 2020, when times are tough.

Hang this in every art gallery in the world. Image: Casa Italia

Ploughing through a hefty serving last Saturday night was a joyous affair. The very sight of the portion once the lid was peeled back was akin to the women on the old ‘Diet Coke break’ adverts seeing the lad with his top off on the building site crack open a can. An actual, real life “Phwoar” may even have been involuntarily let out. Much like Tony Soprano, it’s a super heavyweight that, if you spend too much time around it, will be detrimental to your health, but is still, somehow, hypnotically enticing. Sexy in fact. Lasagna is sexy. Fight me if you disagree. Casa Italia’s effort is also ruthlessly charming, pinging a smile across your face the second that first mouthful hits and, before you know it, there’s mince on your cheek, béchamel on your chin and a glazed look in your eyes. And that’s before you’ve even encountered the tiramisu or white chocolate and biscoff cheesecake that’s to follow.

This is old school Italian, feel good cooking at it’s best. You eat it in your grey joggers on your settee with a bottle of red and a premium American cable drama (fuck it, just stick The Sopranos on and be done with it).

Then you tackle the desserts.

It would be remiss to make this all about the lasagna, tempting though that is. To follow were a Tiramisu the size of Sicily and the aforementioned biscoff based cheesecake. The gargantuan tiramisu may not originally seem like what you would want to follow half a ton of meat, cheese and pasta, but give it a good half an hour or so, and go and retrieve that sucker from the fridge. The boozy, coffee mixture is a decadent delight, with espresso soaked ladyfingers slathered in double cream, mascarpone and cocoa powder leaving you ready for a tremendously deep sleep well into Sunday morning.

44 years and still going strong in Liverpool, now Casa Italia have made the voyage across the North West to bring their old school classics to Manchester. Image: Casa Italia

The cheesecake, meanwhile, while of a more normal proportion, still packs a very sweet punch without overstepping the mark into sickly territory. It’s a dessert that is simply a lot of fun, which just about sums up everything the Casa Italia delivery experience has to offer.

So if, like most of us, you’re yearning that family friendly, heartwarming, soul nourishing experience from your meals but 2020 has you too beat up to slave over the hob for hours on end, drop Casa Italia a line and stick something good on the box. They’ll see you right.

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