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La Secchia is, by now, a fairly well-known name in Banská Bystrica. A small restaurant tucked into a converted family home, it won’t dazzle you at first glance—but if you push past the initial confusion, there’s a lot to write about. Both good and bad.
The entrance is a bit awkward. You step through what feels like the hallway of a private house, and for a moment you’re not sure you’ve entered the right door. A few steps in, though, you realize you’re in the right place and are greeted by a small counter and a modest display of Italian products.
The dining area is tiny—just four tables—but that gives it a certain charm.
The service was friendly, though I was honestly surprised that the waitress couldn’t define what style of pizza they serve. The only thing she could tell me was that it’s sourdough. Which, for the record, isn’t a style—sourdough is a method, and pretty much all pizza dough involves some kind of leavening.
Still, La Secchia is more famous for its pasta, and since we reviewed pizza in our last two outings, I decided to skip it this time and come back another day for a proper slice.
Their daily menu is well-structured, offering seven dishes (including pizza) and one soup. If this setup is consistent, you could eat there regularly and always find something new to try.
Together with Ďuri, we chose two pasta dishes: traditional Lasagne Bolognese and Pasta Con Le Sarde—which, according to the menu, includes mackerel, spinach, olives, and sun-dried tomatoes.
Now, here’s the confusing part. “Con Le Sarde” is a Sicilian recipe that usually contains sardines, raisins, and pine nuts. So unless someone mixed up mackerel with sardines, olives with nuts, and raisins with sun-dried tomatoes, it seems the name was just slapped on without understanding what it means. For anyone curious, mackerel in Italian is sgombro. When a place is owned by four Italians, this kind of mix-up is kind of funny.
Linguistic pedantry aside, let’s get to the food.
Me and lasagna have a very Italian relationship—either passionate love or loud disappointment. Thankfully, this one falls into the former. The sauce was noticeably saltier than what you’d find in Italy, but I don’t mind that. Slovaks are used to bolder, saltier flavors, while Italians often lean sweeter—especially when using canned tomatoes. I can’t say for sure whether fresh tomatoes were used here, but regardless, they were good tomatoes. I genuinely have no complaints. I never make Bolognese at home, so this might become my go-to spot for it.
As for the pseudo-sardine pasta, the flavors were nicely balanced. I used to hate spinach, so I’m picky about how it’s used, but here it worked well. Ďuri’s main issue was the small amount of mackerel in the dish. But considering how expensive mackerel is (especially inland), and that this was a daily menu item, I get it.
A small, unexpected delight? Coca-Cola in a half-liter glass bottle. Completely irrelevant, but still enjoyable.
Final Thoughts
Overall, I left with a positive impression. You don’t need to be afraid to try new things here. My only real criticism—and one I will keep voicing—is the confusion in the menu and the inability to define their pizza style. Pretty much every Italian village has its own style, but I’ve never been to the village of “Sourdough.” Clear labeling is part of good food culture. If I wouldn’t let it slide at a pizzeria in a rural village, I certainly won’t excuse it from a restaurant with Italian owners.
That said, I still recommend La Secchia. If you’re looking to try something different, or just want reliably good Italian pasta, it’s worth a visit.
