Fortunato Cucina started with a simple superstition. In Italian households, a lucky house is a loud one — the door open, the pasta pot too big, a chair pulled up for whoever turns up. Fortunato means lucky, fortunate, blessed. Cucina means kitchen. Put them together and you get our whole reason for opening: the kitchen is where the luck lives.

A little taste of the good life

We grew up on summers that smelled like lemons and sea salt — the Amalfi coast in the morning, a plastic chair on the footpath in the afternoon, everyone eating too late and laughing too loud. That feeling is what we chase every service. It's not fine dining. It's better: it's the place you end up at on a Tuesday because you couldn't be bothered cooking, and again on Saturday because everyone's coming.

Our dough proves for 48 hours. Our ragù takes eight. The tomatoes are San Marzano, the mozzarella arrives twice a week, and the lemons come from a grower who calls us when they're at their best. The pizza signature is a lemon one — stracciatella, pistachio, mint — because it tastes exactly like the good life.

Good food, good company, good fortune

We believe generosity is a business plan. Bigger portions, warmer welcomes, a free limoncello when it's your birthday. We hire people who like people, we say yes to the pram and the dog out front and the group that grew from six to eleven. Come hungry, stay late, leave lucky.

Good Food. Good Fortune.