Late-Night Italian and Bar Snacks in London: The Dover and The Bar Below

It’s 1:30 a.m. in London. The clubs have emptied, the last Tube train is long gone, and your stomach is screaming for something salty, rich, and real. Not a greasy kebab. Not a soggy burger. You want Italian-the kind that makes you forget you’ve been out for hours. That’s where The Dover and The Bar Below come in.

The Dover: Where Pasta Runs Late

The Dover isn’t just a bar. It’s a hidden corner of Rome that slipped into Soho. Tucked under the arches of Dover Street, it’s been serving late-night Italian since 2018. The kitchen stays open until 3 a.m. on weekends, and the staff don’t blink when you walk in at 2 a.m. asking for a plate of carbonara.

What makes it work? Simplicity. No frills. No Instagrammable plating. Just thick, hand-rolled tagliatelle tossed in duck ragù, slow-cooked for 12 hours. The sauce clings to the pasta like a hug. They use San Marzano tomatoes from Campania, and the pancetta is imported from Tuscany. No shortcuts.

Order the crostini con stracchino-toasted sourdough with creamy, tangy cheese, a drizzle of honey, and cracked black pepper. It’s the kind of snack that makes you pause mid-bite. You didn’t know you needed this at 2 a.m., but now you can’t imagine life without it.

They also do a killer arancini. Crispy on the outside, molten risotto inside, stuffed with ragù and mozzarella. Each one is the size of a golf ball. You’ll want three. And yes, they’re still warm when they hit the table.

The Bar Below: Snacks That Don’t Quit

Downstairs from The Dover, hidden behind a brass door with no sign, is The Bar Below. This is where the real late-night ritual happens. No menu. No prices listed. Just a bartender who knows what you need before you say it.

They don’t serve full meals here. They serve bar snacks-the kind you eat standing up, one hand on your drink, the other holding a fork. Think: fried anchovies with lemon zest, salted almonds tossed in rosemary, and tiny beef sliders on brioche buns with pickled red onions.

Their most famous item? Polpo alla griglia. Grilled octopus, sliced thin, drizzled with olive oil and smoked paprika. It’s served on a ceramic plate no bigger than a saucer. You’ll eat it in two bites. Then you’ll order another. It’s not fancy. It’s not expensive. But it’s unforgettable.

They also do a version of panzanella that changes every night. One week it’s tomato, cucumber, and basil. The next, it’s roasted peppers, capers, and torn bread soaked in garlic-infused vinegar. It’s the kind of dish that tastes better after midnight, when the city is quiet and your taste buds are wide awake.

Why These Two Places Work When Others Don’t

Most late-night spots in London try too hard. They serve nachos with truffle oil. They call fried chicken “artisanal.” They play dubstep at 2 a.m. and charge £18 for a glass of prosecco.

The Dover and The Bar Below don’t do that. They know their audience. You’re tired. You’re hungry. You don’t want a show. You want food that feels like home-even if home is a tiny apartment in Bologna.

They use real ingredients. They don’t skimp on olive oil. They don’t freeze their mozzarella. They make their own bread daily. And they never rush you. Even at 2:45 a.m., the server asks if you want another glass of wine. Not because they’re trying to upsell. Because they care.

There’s a rhythm here. The lights stay low. The music is vinyl-old Italian jazz, soft and warm. The tables are close together. Strangers end up sharing plates. Someone orders a bottle of Chianti and says, “Help yourself.” You do. And it’s perfect.

What to Order (And What to Skip)

At The Dover:

• Do: Tagliatelle al ragù, crostini con stracchino, arancini
• Don’t: Order pizza. They make it, but it’s not their strength. Stick to pasta.
• Pro tip: Ask for a glass of Verdicchio. It’s crisp, citrusy, and cuts through the fat perfectly.

At The Bar Below:

• Do: Polpo alla griglia, fried anchovies, salted almonds, panzanella
• Don’t: Ask for a dessert menu. They don’t have one. But if you ask nicely, they might bring you a small plate of amaretti with espresso.
• Pro tip: Order a Negroni. They make it with Carpano Antica and a twist of orange. It’s the only drink that matches the vibe.

When to Go (And When to Avoid)

Go on Friday or Saturday nights after the clubs close. That’s when the real crowd shows up-artists, musicians, chefs off shift, people who’ve been out since 9 p.m. and still aren’t ready to call it a night.

Avoid Sunday. The kitchen closes at midnight. And don’t come on Monday unless you’re lucky. The Bar Below sometimes opens for a few hours, but it’s not guaranteed.

Arrive after 1 a.m. You’ll get the best seats. The place fills up fast after that. There are only 12 tables at The Dover. At The Bar Below, there are six stools. You’ll be lucky to find one.

How It Feels to Eat There

It’s not about the food alone. It’s about the silence between bites. The way the bartender nods when you say, “One more, please.” The way the lights dim even lower after 2 a.m. The way the city outside feels miles away.

You come hungry. You leave full-not just in your stomach, but in your chest. There’s comfort in knowing that somewhere in London, at this exact hour, someone is still cooking for you. Not because they have to. But because they want to.

That’s rare. And that’s why these two places still matter.