La Mafia

When Spanish judges turn their attention to pasta, things get complicated. The recent decision ordering the closure of restaurants operating under the name La Mafia Se Sienta a la Mesa has been exactly that. The ruling follows actions in other countries where authorities have taken a dim view of dining establishments borrowing the imagery and name of the Mafia as a marketing device.

For years the chain traded on a certain tongue-in-cheek theatricality: black and white photographs, references to gangsters and the faint suggestion that your plate of tagliatelle might arrive accompanied by an offer you couldn't refuse. Diners were expected to take it as harmless fun. Not all did.

Italian institutions and anti-mafia organisations have long argued that such branding trivialises a criminal phenomenon that has cost thousands of lives. Courts in other countries have already restricted similar names. Spain has now joined that club, deciding that pasta should perhaps be served without connections to organised crime.

The ruling does not, of course, threaten the survival of Italian cuisine in Spain. Lasagne will continue to appear, tiramisú will remain reassuringly available and garlic will still do battle with breath mints across the land. What disappears is merely the suggestion that dinner comes with a side order of mob mythology.

For the restaurant group, it will mean a hurried search for a new identity. Happily, the Italian culinary vocabulary is vast. One suspects the public would welcome a name celebrating olive oil, family tables or grandmotherly cooking rather more than criminal fraternities.

In short, Spain's courts have delivered a simple message: great pasta doesn't need protection money.