Glasgow’s love affair with Italian food is reborn. Burrata and nduja roll off the tongue now like they’ve always been here, while bruschetta and arancini know their days are numbered. Sugo brought panzanella salads to the city centre, Celentano’s casually nods to Italian fine dining with Scottish ingredients, while New York and Detroit vie with Naples for pizza superiority. Good times, if these are a few of your favourite things. 

In the middle of this, Malocchio sits pretty in its massive, shiny spot on the corner of the Merchant City. It’s way cooler than the previous incarnation (Mediterraneo), with lots of light, an olive-grey palette and the long, open kitchen we’ve come to expect. There are small plates, small(ish) dishes of pasta and small pizzas. And damn, those pizzette are good: the ratio of bubbly, chewy crust to the foldable, Neapolitan middle is altered (more of the first, less of the second) so it scratches the bread-to-share-as-starter itch as much as the pizza one. A riff on a carbonara pizza features oily, crispy shreds of pancetta doing masterful salty things, while elsewhere mascarpone melts into a tomato and nduja base; it lacks chilli ferocity but that potentially broadens its appeal. 

Not every dish excels, but Malocchio hits way more marks than it misses. Everything feels very of the moment, the crowd is young and the pricing fair. Bag one of their window ledge seats, which feel like private counter spots, look out at the Merchant City and enjoy the buzzy restaurant behind you. Life is good. 

Malocchio, 159 Ingram Street, Glasgow; average price £25 for three small plates.