Squid is one of those funny cephalopods, where very quick cooking in small pieces or long slow braising, perhaps as stuffed whole tubes, is the right thing to do Anything in between is a disaster. You might as well eat a bicycle inner tube.For the batter:200g plain flour50g potato flour (fecule de pommes de terre)275 ml light beer1 egg yolk25 ml sunflower oil225 ml milksalt and pepper500g squid, cleaned, sliced into thin rings, with tentacles – cut in half if largesaltfloura handful of parsley sprigs, washed and well driedcayenne pepper1 lemon, cut into quartersFirst make the batter by putting all the ingredients in the blender and blending until smooth. Both are equally enjoyable, as long as the fat you use to fry in is clean, hot and fresh, and the squid is super-fresh, neatly sliced into rings and properly floured, egged and breadcrumbed/battered.The frying time is about 2 minutes. Why should a dish of green tagliatelle in a cream sauce be any less attractive than a warm bean salad with balsamic vinegar and a slick of extra virgin? In our greedy search for new ingredients and novel interpretations we are in danger of throwing out the bechamel with the borlottis.Calamari fritti, serves 4 as a first courseMaybe Calamari is more synonymous with Greek holidays than the trat-era, but you most certainly would have seen it on Mario and Franco’s menu.Deep-fried squid is clad in either breadcrumbs or batter. That is the basic difference between then and now.In Sixties Soho, where trattoria cooking was born, there was already a thriving Italian community supporting continental grocers, bakers and butchers.

Some of this produce, of course, found its way into the restaurant kitchens and on to the menus But not enough of it. Furthermore, we, the customers, lapped up whatever was put in front of us, as long as it was served by a flirty waiter who looked like Marcello Mastroianni.Perhaps there is a strong element of nostalgia going on here. What would pin-striped, drunk-too-much-Valpolicella man have made of olive oil-soaked foccacia or ciabatta circa 1970? Are there still those who prefer the buttered breadstick to the oily tear of a “new” breed of bread?Fashion in food is relatively new and seems to be creating a class of quasi-sophisticated Euro-eaters who will brainlessly bin bruschetta for yet another new bread. We assumed that came ready grated, and was only used for sprinkling – on almost everything.By the mid-Eighties, the trattoria had had its day, but, now, it is the pleasure of passionate home-grown cooks such as Rowley Leigh, Alastair Little, Rose Gray and Ruthie Rogers to cook great Italian dishes, rustic and simple. The reason they are breathing new life into Italian food is because they are cooking it properly, and with care. Pasta was always overcooked and never home-made and stale rolls sat untouched on side plates from midday to midnight.There was borrowing from the continental repertoire, with dishes such as Pollo alla Sorpresa (chicken Kiev), Veal Cordon Bleu, Crespelle di Frutta di Mare (seafood pancake) and factory made desserts – always a bloody cheesecake – decorated with what looked like shaving cream, loaded on to the ever-present trolley.

And, of course, Black Forest Gateau.Cheese, if you were lucky, was either freezing cold or a sweaty Dolcelatte, Gorgonzola Torta, perhaps Provolone, or Taleggio Certainly never a hunk of Parmigiano Reggiano. Veal, usually offered cooked in a dozen different ways, came to be hit and miss. Heavy sauces, often based on a floury, badly cooked bechamel, and mixed with tired mushrooms or plastic ham, could be claggy in the extreme. Dolci were taken seriously, too: Zabaglione was light, frothy and oozed Marsala, and a decent fresh fruit salad (Macedonia di Frutta!) was something worth having.But, by the end of the Seventies, people were talking about the Trat Trap.

They, too, had their giant-pepper-grinder-wielding, occasionally singing, always smooth-talking Lothario waiters and they hung on to the hanging Chianti bottles and the ladderback chairs.Their menus, too, lost their way. People took them home, for there is nothing more satisfying than ripping open the flimsy Cellophane packet, shaking out a stick (rather like a soft pack of Lucky Strike), and then ploughing its rough end into cool butter.
Antipasti – hitherto a sad display of wilted squid rings, curling salami, congealed potato salad and crusty bean and tuna mix – became something to get excited about. Italian specialities were revitalised: Fegato alla Veneziana (calves’ liver in the Venetian style, thinly slivered with onions), Saltimbocca alla Romana (thin slices of veal, sage and prosciutto fried in butter and finished with wine), and Scaloppini alla Marsala or Limone, were, for once, freshly made with care and became really quite good. In London with a beautiful hungry girl one must show her to Mario at The Terrazza. We sat in the ground floor front under the plastic grapes and Mario brought us Campari-sodas and told Jean how much he hated me To do this he practically had to gnaw her ear off. Jean liked it – Len Deighton, `The Ipcress File’, 1962

With the new look in the Sixties came a cleaning up of the old-style Italian menu Breadsticks became a status symbol on restaurant tables.

London Eye readers get 30 per cent off top-price tickets (usually sold at pounds 25, now just pounds 17) for the following evening performances: Monday 6 Oct, Tuesday 7 Oct, Wednesday 8 Oct. The play is set in an RAF camp where new conscript Pip feels contempt both for his class who give orders and the class, his fellow conscripts, who take orders and “eat chips with everything”.
Discounted tickets are limited to four per person and subject to availability To book call 0171-928 2252 and quote `Eye/Chips Offer.. This year’s Olivier committee would be well advised to hotfoot it down the National.`An Enemy of the People’ is currently in rep at the National Theatre SE1 (0171-928 2252). Last seen in 1962, Arnold Wesker’s semi-autobiographical play, Chips With Everything, is currently playing at the National’s Lyttelton Theatre. Their partnership dates back to 1959, when, as Cambridge students, Nunn played the acolyte to McKellen’s Pope in Dr Faustus. John Woodvine, another Nunn/ McKellen co-conspirator, rejoins them, plus the disgracefully underrated Penny Downie, last seen in An Ideal Husband.Surprisingly, in a career spanning over 100 roles, McKellen has only appeared in one Ibsen play, as Bernick in Pillars of the Community, for which he was named Best Actor at the 1977 Olivier awards.