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Do we need another Italian place in town?
I’d always say yes.
And if it’s a serious one that knows the classic carbonara calls for Pecorino Romano, not parmesan, and definitely, absolutely not cream? Even better.
Meet SOLA Ristorante & Bisteccheria, the city’s latest Italian spot that brings a taste of modern Tuscany to Jakarta. Yes, it’s a steakhouse, but also much more than that.
Think fresh ingredients, bold flavors and food that feels simple in the best way. It’s part of the Privy Hospitality Group, the same team behind Kaminori, Mozzeria and Jon & Lou.
The restaurant is now open for lunch and dinner, with breakfast launching soon to complete its full-day Tuscan dining experience.
SOLA officially opened to the public on May 16, tucked into the leafy streets of Menteng, Central Jakarta. I got a sneak peak ahead of the opening, and if first impressions count, SOLA knows exactly what it’s doing.
The space is warm and unpretentious, but still carries a quiet air of semi–fine dining.
With cream walls, wood accents, shelves of wine bottles and an open view of the kitchen and pizza oven, SOLA feels less like a commercial establishment and more like being invited to an Italian nonna’s dining room.
Opening acts worth remembering
Let’s start at the beginning: the welcome bread. It’s focaccia, yes, but not served with your usual balsamic-olive oil duo or just plain butter.
Instead, SOLA gives you a candle. A beef tallow mixed with butter candle, infused with garlic. It arrives lit and slowly melts onto the plate. You dip your warm, pillowy bread into the molten fat.
Gimmicky? Maybe. Decadent? Absolutely. That’s when I knew I was off to a good start.
Next came the burrata salad, one of those dishes that looks deceptively simple but is quite easy to mess up. It’s just cheese, tomato and balsamic vinegar, right? When it’s right, it’s amazing. When it’s not, you would know.
The burrata is made in-house, always fresh. The tomatoes and basil are also fresh, but the SOLA twist is to include grilled grapes. The sauce leans sweeter than usual, something I didn’t expect, maybe a Tuscan thing? Regardless, it was a pleasant deviation from the usual.
Then came the vitello tonnato, thin slices of rare tenderloin sitting next to a creamy tuna sauce.
“Espuma [light fairy foam],” the waiter explains, laughing at the irony of a Tuscan spot serving a dish rooted in Piedmontese tradition.
It looks like hummus, but tastes like something else entirely. Savory, smooth and quietly addictive. Also, bonus points for having staff who know their food story.
Cozy, bold mains
SOLA’s head of marketing, Michelle Santoso, recommended the ribollita, a classic Tuscan soup made with chicken stock, kale, white beans, bread and Italian sausage.
At first, I doubted the suggestion. A simple chicken soup? But this is one of those cases where you realize how much effort simplicity takes. Sometimes, the simplest dishes stay with you the longest. This one did.
It’s the kind of dish that wraps around you like a soft blanket: brothy, earthy, quietly comforting. An edible hug. Two days later, I’m already planning to go back just for that feeling.
Then came the bigger, bolder dishes.
The beef cheek risotto Milanese was rich and intense, saffron risotto sprinkled with beef jus and meltingly tender Australian beef cheek. A small grilled bone marrow sat on top like a crown.
I didn’t expect the risotto to be that cheesy, but I’m not complaining. The more cheese, the better. The bone marrow was unfortunately firm, maybe I just got unlucky with that particular cow’s anatomy, but it didn’t take away from the dish.
The Dorper lamb spiedini might be a Tuscan ode to a kebab: lamb loin skewers grilled with peppers and onions. The peppers weren’t fiery, but deeply fragrant. It needs the sauce to really shine, and among all the mains, this was probably the least seasoned, though still tasty.
The bistecca alla Fiorentina (marbling score 3) came rare and beautifully rested.
Charred over a wood fire, served three fingers thick, it’s said to be SOLA’s centerpiece.
It also comes with a small dish of salt. When I asked the staff for insider info, they revealed it was Maldon, about as gourmet as sea salt gets. It lifted the whole bite: crisp, clean and just the right kind of flaky.
A strong finale
Dessert was, mostly, a highlight. The tiramisu was scooped, not sliced, so you knew it was serious. Soft, boozy and unapologetically adult.
Believe me when I say it’s easily among the top-three in Jakarta, and I say that as someone who’s tasted (and complained about) more tiramisus than I care to admit.
The biscotti were perfectly drenched, drowned, really, with no trace of that sandy, under-soaked bite you sometimes get.
And the cream? Whipped just right. Light, luscious and stable, which, frankly, is a rare achievement among many of this city’s tiramisu attempts.
The baba au rhum, on the other hand, didn’t quite land. Yes, it’s French. Yes, I wondered why I ordered a French dessert at an Italian restaurant.
The flavor was there, the rum was bold, the lemon Chantilly bright, but the texture leaned too dry, especially in the middle. Still, the liquor had enough zing to make my lightheaded self sit up straighter.
Not a total miss, just a dish I wanted to love more than I actually did.
Final verdict
SOLA doesn’t try to reinvent Italian food, nor does it bend to local taste buds, and thank goodness for that. It leans into what makes the cuisine special: warmth, depth and a simplicity that’s anything but boring.
The space feels intentional, and though it’s new, it already has that lived-in ease. Elegant, but not trying too hard to be fancy.
You might come for different reasons: maybe it pops up on your FYP, maybe you're always chasing the next new thing, or maybe you're just a curious foodie. But I’m confident you’ll stay, or dare I say, return, for the kind of comfort and deliciousness Italians are beloved for.
