La Riviera Di Parthenope — Restaurant in Naples

This place offers traditional food with a twist made with passion AND outstanding culinary skills

Riviera di Parthenope truly is a hidden gem like many have commented before. We went there " by mistake" for lunch without reading any reviews before but as soon as had our first bite in our Primis "Pasta w Faglioli and "Linguini con Cicale di Mare" it was obvious that we had come to a place where food is more than food - it is art. As it was lunch time there was a set menu and we chose Seppie e Piselli i Guazetto as our main course (seepia with tomatos and peas ). That was something that I had never eaten before - and I could not stop wondering how something so simple could be so satisfying, so delicate and rich as the same time as well as texture wise perfect!

Our meal was accompanied by "family" wine made by the father of the owner - it was a mix of 80 % Falanbghino and 20 % Fiano grapes and it was out of this world!

It became clear for us at this point that La Riviera di Parthenope is a restaurant where food is art that is made with passion AND outstanding culinary skills. And we were content and satisfied and thought that nothing could make us happier food wise.

But little did we know that La Riviera di Parthenope has one more surprise waiting for us. THE DESSERTS!!!! Now I am one of those people who thinks that it is the quality of the desserts that separates good restaurants and excellent restaurants. Great chefs are hard to find yes - but finding great pastry chef is even harder. When we received our desserts ( lemon sorbet inside a lemon and pistachio cake with the filling so soft that it melted your mouth) I started to think I was dreaming. I was out of words (and partially I still am) - both desserts had of such outstanding richness and balance of flavors that it takes real genius to create those.

After one week in Naples it is not a hard choice to decide our choice for the farewell dinner. You guessed right - it is La Riviera di Parthenope and i can't wait for the...

Nestled along the quiet stretch of the Riviera, La Riviera Di Parthenope is a family-run gem that captures the essence of coastal dining with authenticity and warmth. From the moment one steps inside, there’s a sense of intimacy and sincerity — a place where tradition, passion, and the rhythm of the sea converge on every plate.

The seafood, undeniably the star of the evening, tasted as though it had just journeyed from the water to the kitchen. Each dish carried the distinct freshness of the sea — delicate, briny, and pure — reminding one of the culinary simplicity that only true mastery can achieve. Every bite revealed that the food here is not just cooked, but crafted from the heart.

Service was equally remarkable — attentive without intrusion, unhurried yet perfectly timed. The pacing allowed the evening to unfold gracefully, encouraging conversation and appreciation rather than haste. It’s rare to find such balance, where hospitality feels both professional and personal.

To close the meal, a lemon sorbet ice cream arrived as the perfect palate cleanser. Bursting with bright, natural citrus flavour, it offered a refreshing finale — cool, tangy, and alive with the zest of freshly squeezed lemons.

La Riviera Di Parthenope is not just a restaurant; it is a love letter to the sea and to the art of honest, heartfelt cooking. A dining experience here leaves not only the taste of the ocean lingering, but also the warmth of a family’s devotion to...

I genuinely don’t understand how this place has a 4.7 rating unless everyone who reviewed it had their tongues surgically removed, or maybe they just confuse “edible” with “excellent.” This was, without question, one of the worst meals we’ve had in Italy — and we’ve eaten gas-station sandwiches that had more soul.

This place gets two stars only because they’ll appeal any one star reviews.

We started with the shrimp tempura, which was the one glimmer of hope — light, crisp, actually decent. And then things took a nosedive straight into culinary purgatory. The shrimp ravioli tasted like it had been marinating in low-tide seawater and regret. Fishy, gummy, just… no. Then came the so-called Neapolitan ragù, which could have been straight out of a Chef Boyardee can, if Chef Boyardee had flunked out of culinary school and decided to pursue his passion for disappointing tourists instead.

It wasn’t “not good.” It was bad. The kind of meal that makes you question your life choices and whether Google reviews are now part of an elaborate prank. If this is what passes for 4.7 stars in Naples, then I’m officially recalibrating my entire understanding of...