Italian food is easy to love, but just as easy to misunderstand. Too often, it’s reduced to predictable plates of penne arrabbiata or cheesy pizza. So when we stepped into Mi Piaci, a newly opened Italian restaurant tucked into Mehrauli’s Ambawatta One complex, I wasn’t expecting to be surprised—and yet, I was. From the first bite to the final pour of chocolate over dessert, it felt like a quiet correction to our pre convinced notions.
While chatting with Silvia Aserio, the restaurant’s manager, I also learned that dishes like arrabbiata are rarely seen on menus in Italy—and that Mi Piaci’s mission is to bring the real Italian dishes to Delhi. As owner Priyank Sukhija puts it, “At Mi Piaci, we want you to taste Italy, feel Italy, and live Italy—without ever leaving Delhi.” And on that breezy Tuesday night, it did just that.
At Mi Piaci, the core team includes chefs with Italian roots. “Our team crafts every dish the way it’s made in Italy—fresh, simple, and soulful. From hand-rolled pastas to wood-fired pizzas and sauces simmered to perfection,” shares Sukhija.
The idea behind the menu and every ingredient on it is thoughtfully shaped by the native team, resulting in a spread that feels part traditional, part nostalgic.
Tucked inside Mehrauli’s posh complex—Ambawatta One, Mi Piaci first draws you in with a softly glowing rooftop sign. Step inside, and you’re met with a space that feels both intimate and intentional: warm lighting, soft music, and a dining area that opens up to a postcard view of the Qutub Minar amidst the open sky.
The interiors, envisioned by Natasha Jain of Bentchair and Natalier, bring a balance between laid-back ease and quiet elegance. It’s minimalism, but with just enough personality—from sculptural palm trees and textured sand wall art to the inviting sofa seating by the fireplace. Even the table settings are pared down to essentials, subtly directing your attention to what matters most here: the food.
We began with complimentary focaccia, breadsticks, and spiced lavash, served with a dollop of salted butter—the kind of simple, elegant start that paired perfectly with my glass of house red, imported straight from Italy. For mocktails, we chose the Fiorita—a refreshing ginger-ade drink with a punchy citrus edge, thanks to a blend of lime and orange bitters.
Though the menu was full of unfamiliar names and tempting curiosities, we eventually settled on the Ravioli Fritti and Diavola Bites. The fried ravioli delivered exactly what you’d hope for: crisp, golden edges giving way to a warm, comforting filling. The vegetable stuffing, paired with Parmesan fondue and a delicate sprinkle of seasoned potato chunks, struck a lovely balance between indulgence and comfort.
The Diavola Bites, however, didn’t quite land. While the chicken was marinated in wine, herbs, and spices, the result was unexpectedly dry. The outer seasoning lacked punch, and even the house sauce drizzled over the bites couldn’t rescue the dish from feeling underwhelming.
The Burrata Pizza brought nothing but joy to the table. As a creature of habit, skipping pesto and a generous helping of burrata at an Italian gem like this simply wasn’t an option. What arrived was a thin, wood-fired crust—light, crisp at the edges, and ever so slightly chewy at the centre, just the way the Italians do it. Topped with cherry tomatoes, basil leaves, and a gentle drizzle of extra virgin olive oil, the pizza was flavoured in harmony– simple ingredients doing exactly what they’re meant to.
The burrata, creamy and cool against the warm crust, melted into the garlicky pesto. The dough carried a faint sour tang, adding depth and contrast to the tomatoes and the buttery notes of the cheese.
From the pasta section, the Pappardelle al Ragu quietly stole the show. The handmade pappardelle, wide and silky, was tossed in a rich lamb ragu that felt both nostalgic and deeply satisfying. The minced lamb, slow-cooked with tomatoes and classic Italian spices, tasted like something pulled straight from a nonna’s kitchen—full of love, warmth and soul.
We ended the evening with a classic Profiterole—a light choux pastry filled with vanilla-specked cream and finished with a dark chocolate glaze with just enough richness to tie it all together.
Mi Piaci does Italian the way it was meant to be: honest, unfussy, and deeply evocative. The pappardelle al ragu is slow-cooked comfort—meaty, rich, and unapologetically traditional. The burrata pizza lands in that rare sweet spot between restraint and indulgence, its thin crust barely holding the weight of pesto, tomatoes, and cloud-like cheese. Even the profiterole, often an afterthought, feels deliberate—light, cold cream meeting warm, bitter chocolate. Nothing demands attention, yet everything feels intentional—measured, balanced, and quietly brilliant in its execution and flavour profile.
The overall experience at Mi Piaci may not be for everyone, but for those who find joy in truly savouring Italian flavours, this quiet gem in Mehrauli is well worth seeking out.
