'A home away from home' – why Italian delis continue to thrive in Britain 

Pasquale Chionchio, co-founder of London pizzeria Santa Maria and a Londoner for 20 years, agrees: "It was a common thing for that wave of immigrants after the war to open a deli and import Italian products. The deli is still a big thing nowadays. If you go on Italian groups on Facebook, they constantly ask where you can find the best pannetone, biscotti or typical cheeses." 

One of the most iconic is Lina Stores, founded by Genoa-born Lina – whose full name has been lost to the mists of time – in 1944. Lina Stores (the plural is a mispronunciation) is one of few remaining relics of Soho's bygone Little Italy, along with deli I Camisa & Son on Old Compton Street and the legendary café Bar Italia. After Lina returned to Italy, it was taken over by Giovanni and Rosina Filippi, originally from Piacenza, and then run by their daughter and son-in-law, Gabriella and Tony Saccomani. 

Today, despite a recent makeover, it still harks to its traditional past – 1950s-style turquoise Formica; cheeses and cured meats from the same suppliers as ever. Fresh pasta of all shapes and sizes adorns one fridge; three stools are primed at a short bar for a quick caffeine hit, or a bite of fresh focaccia. 

Soho was always a likely place to open up. After the gradual dispersal in the early 20th century of London's first big Italian community in Clerkenwell, where the Italian church, consecrated in 1863 still holds an annual processione and Terroni's still does a brisk trade in Italian produce, Soho became the focal point of Italian England. Whether for work or play, Italians congregated here, bringing with them the first espresso bars (Moka Bar and Bar Italia) and a raft of delis and restaurants. 

Delis like Lina Stores, I Camisa and the erstwhile Parmigiani were constantly busy, remembers Antonio Polledri, co-owner of Bar Italia, which is now into a fourth generation of family ownership. "The queues were huge. A week before Christmas, there'd be queues down to Piccadilly Circus. You couldn't get panettone, pandoro, or Italian bits and pieces [elsewhere]. I remember going to a chemist to get olive oil. But Parmigiani used to import it." 

The typical Italian deli is a thriving, exciting, noisy place, where customer and shopkeeper engage in heated conversation. "My dad used to know a lot of people's first names, there was a real community feel," recalls Maggiulli, whose Puglian-born father Salvatore owned a deli in Battersea. 

Produce is often tightly packed into the small store, salami and prosciutto hanging from the ceiling, every crevice filled with 100 pasta shapes; football scarves might decorate the walls. This home-away-from-home atmosphere is evidently still important at Lina Stores, though Dentamaro estimates around 70 per cent of customers these days are not Italian. Yet, a few years back, Lina Stores underwent a makeover in favour of a slightly more streamlined, modern feel. "We still kept all the original shelves, the signs outside, and the colour, 'Lina's green'."

The produce, however, remains resolutely traditional, despite changing tastes. "Every two weeks we receive a huge delivery from Italy of meats, cheeses and antipasti, those are Lina's classics, from the same producers as at the start," says Dentamaro. "Of course, food is a trend, and there are certain periods where a particular type of food becomes popular, like orzo pasta which was a big thing for a couple of years. You have to adapt. As long as the quality is good, we're open to other things." Dentamaro points to burrata, stracciatella and 'Nduja as examples of goodies to recently storm Britain's culinary scene. 

Soho isn't Britain's only Italian hub. In Scotland there are an estimated 100,000 people of Italian descent, and this year Valvona & Crolla in Edinburgh celebrates its 85th anniversary (it's evidently a landmark year, with Bar Italia hitting 70 this winter). In 1934, Italian-born Alfonso Crolla and Ralph Valvona set up shop to provide the city's thriving Italian population with fresh produce from the homeland. 

Today, Crolla's grandson Philip Contini runs the deli and restaurant with his wife Mary and daughter Francesca. "We were the first Italian deli. My grandfather was involved in ice cream when he arrived," Contini explains. "Valvona had the idea of bringing Italian food for the community, but wasn't very good business-wise. The bank manager put them together, and it was very successful until the outbreak of World War Two." 

With Italians interned as enemy aliens, thousands, including a raft of deli owners and Polledri's grandfather, found themselves imprisoned on the Isle of Man. Contini's grandfather was on the SS Arandona Star, an ocean liner torpedoed by the Germans in 1940, causing 805 deaths, including Crolla. After the war, his sons lifted up the shutters and re-opened, with Contini taking over in 1986.

"We brought over balsamic vinegar, nobody had heard of it," Contini muses. "Sundried tomatoes, extra virgin olive oil. Fresh mozzarella from Naples. Prosecco." Speaking to Contini, it's clear just how much Italians have shaped this country's culinary habits. "We used to be a hub for the Italian community, with a noticeboard in the shop. Now we're so well integrated into Scottish life, that's no longer necessary." Today, the vast majority of customers aren't of Italian heritage, says Contini, whose daughter will become the fourth generation of the family to keep the company going. 

As with any independent business these days, staying afloat is a struggle. For every Lina Stores and Valvona & Crolla, there's a Parmigiani or Salumeria Napoli (Maggiuli's Battersea deli), lost to a multitude of threats: business rates, tax hikes, gentrification, increasingly well-stocked supermarkets, online shopping – and, potentially, Brexit. 

And there's another, very modern challenge: cheap air travel. "When you go home, once or twice a year, it's a tradition that you take two bags, one with clothes, and one empty, to bring back full of food. It's called pacco da giu [which loosely translates as the 'box from home']," explains Chionchio. Added to that, a prominent Anglo-Italian population – as well as the prominence of Italian cuisine – means every high-street store now sells salami, parmesan, and probably pannetone. 

Yet in these challenging times, Italian delis are persisting; support for small independents is rising. Lina Stores has branched out, with a popular restaurant down the road. Twice a day, some of London's finest fresh pasta is cycled over from a prep kitchen beneath the deli. "It's always been a dream," says Dentamaro. "It took us 74 years, but it's absolutely better late than never." 

While Soho is no longer an Italian neighbourhood, thanks to its heritage it is still an important part of the Anglo-Italian heart. When Italy won the 2006 football World Cup, there were 5,000 people outside the tiny Bar Italia. "It was the place to come," Polledri remembers. "We didn't have any confetti, so we threw pasta out the window. The chef was really annoyed." 

The survival of traditional delis is vital, according to Dentamaro. "There is a lot of constant Italian immigration, and finding the perfect spot where you can feel at home, if you're a bit homesick, is very important. The good thing about the deli is you can buy your fresh items, have a sandwich, and have a nice chat. It's the full experience."