It was half past seven on a Wednesday evening. The sun teased its retreat into the horizon as if intimidated by the flow of office workers spilling out from the CBD’s towering buildings. I was nestled somewhere in the midst of it all, with Google Maps in hand and a growing hunger in my stomach.
Still absorbed in my phone as I tracked my route to Telok Ayer’s buzziest new pasta joint, I suddenly came to a stop. A queue had formed in my path, which intrigued me as my path had been relatively smooth till this point. I had my suspicions, but a quick glance at the yellow and red signboard jutting from a pillar just outside the restaurant confirmed them. I had arrived at my destination; this was the line for Scarpetta. Fortunately, I attended the tasting in the capacity of media, which meant I was able to (apologetically) skip the queue. But for the paying customer, it’s worth noting that reservations aren’t accepted, so plan accordingly.
Scarpetta is as it says it is: an elevated pasta bar with a casual dining concept. The routine is simple—you enter, soak up the restaurant’s kinetic ambience for about seven minutes while waiting for your order, devour your al dente pasta, and then make room for the next eager diner. Rinse and repeat.
With its shoebox-sized layout flanked by tiny rectangular tables accompanied with bar stools, and a full-length counter with even more bar stools, the restaurant might easily make you think it's an actual bar—if not for the sizzle and bustle coming from the open kitchen.
Because I sat at one of the sixteen stools at the counter, I had the chance to hear directly from Scarpetta’s owner, Aaron, as he guided me through each dish, beginning with the Tuscan schiacciata toasts. Essentially the thinner, crispier cousins of focaccia, the light and airy bread comes topped with either auction-grade uni or charred bone marrow. The uni, perched atop seaweed butter and ponzu salt, deepened in umami with every bite, while the bone marrow, seasoned with parsley salad and Maldon sea salt offered a buttery, saltier depth. Each bite hit just the right notes, teasing the palate for what was to come.
It’s also worth noting that the auction-grade uni, flown in twice a week, is likely the most affordable quality uni you’ll find at any restaurant in Singapore. Priced at under SGD20, Aaron shared how the dish barely turns a profit—instead serving as more of a thank-you gesture to early supporters of the restaurant. Given its temporary status on the menu, it’s a must-order while it lasts.
Through our conversations over the counter, Aaron also shared how Scarpetta’s menu originally featured 30 different pasta dishes before undergoing a thorough distillation process, refining it down to the six options laid out on the menu in front of me. If the line outside hadn’t already piququeed my interest, this tidbit of information certainly did.
First to arrive was the Bolognese Ravioli, its parcels blanketed in a pool of aged Parmigiano. The al dente pasta, slightly gummy to the bite, gave way to a rich filling of tender beef cheek, bone marrow, and sun-dried tomato. The funkiness of the Parmigiano melded seamlessly with the richness of the beef to create a single, homogenous flavour in a way that feels achievable only through immaculate emulsification.
Then came the Al Granchio e Limone, where taglioni noodles intertwined with blue swimmer crab, confit garlic, and lemon. The thinly sliced flat noodles with their robust consistency were unexpectedly reminiscent of mee pok, with the crab lending a briny sweetness that elevated the dish’s seafood-forward profile.
Between bites of pasta, I found myself reaching for the Zucchini Frites—thin, stringy, equal parts crispy and limp. The slight added crunch provided a welcome contrast, though some dishes needed it more than others. Texture, however, was never a concern for my personal favourite of the night: the All’Assassina. The dish calls for spaghetti noodles to be deliberately left to char in a sizzling pan of tomato-based chili sauce until its edges crisp and caramelise. This creates a wildly addictive contrast between a crunchy exterior and a gummy interior, delivering a deeply satisfying mouthful while preserving the pasta’s integrity.
In a similar vein, the Spicy alla Vodka also embraces charring, though in a gentler way—it’s baked rather than finished in a ripping hot pan. Tossed in a similar tomato-based chilli sauce, its spice gently coats the tongue, but the rigatoni’s tubular shape cradles the sauce in pockets, allowing bursts of tanginess from the tomato to shine through.
Scarpetta may be a compact pasta bar, but what it lacks in space, it makes up for in heart and precision. Every pasta dish feels like the product of obsessive refinement, without the pretension of a hefty price tag. You won’t find white tablecloths or unnecessary frills here—just a lively, no-reservations space where diners perch on bar stools, watching their meals come to life in the open kitchen. For those willing to wait in line, Scarpetta delivers an experience that’s well worth it.
Scarpetta is located at 47 Amoy St, Singapore 069873
