Photograph by Phil Fisk
A long time ago, a Michelin inspector was walking out of the River Cafe and he said, “Ruth, we would like to give you a second star, but you have got to get rid of those paper tablecloths.” I didn’t say to him, but we all felt, “Well, keep your star.” We are never getting rid of that, because we did that when [husband] Richard was at an architectural practice, and they used to come and draw on them. It’s part of our story. And now children draw on them.
I don’t know how decisions get made in life: to marry a certain person or take that trip or have a baby … but opening the River Cafe with Rose [Gray, her partner, who died in 2010] was definitely unexpected. Rose had lived in Italy for two years with her children. And I married a man who was born in Florence, and his mother was a great cook, so there was no argument over that. I never walked in and thought, “Why are you cooking that?” I don’t think she did the same for me. We agreed on a lot.
My mother worked as a teacher and then a librarian and my father was a doctor. Meal times were simple: we lived in the country and we always had a proper meal, sitting down at the table; seasonal food. If we were having corn for lunch, we’d get it in the morning, and if we were having corn for dinner, we’d get it late afternoon. Corn in the summer was a strong part of my memory.
The River Cafe is my world. Apparently the most regular customer is me
I love doing the podcast Ruthie’s Table 4: it was a very unexpected, random something that started during Covid. I always say that if I were to ask Paul McCartney or Nancy Pelosi or Francis Coppola to talk about either music or politics or the movies, they probably would have said, “I’ve been there and done that.” But if you say: “Did your mother cook? Did your father cook? Did you go to restaurants?” Everybody likes to eat and to recall how food has affected their lives.
When we decided to do this little cafe [next to the restaurant], somebody said, “What are we going to call the River Cafe cafe?” And I said, “Why don’t we call it the River Cafe Cafe? That’s the name!” [Laughs] Most people have an idea, and they look for a space. We had a space, and looked for an idea.
I’m probably the easiest person to cook for, really. People used to say, “I couldn’t possibly cook for you Ruthie, because I’m so scared.” And I’d say, “Oh, no, don’t be, because I’m so appreciative.” And now I say, “Yeah, maybe you should be.”
The River Cafe is my world. I go in there every day. They did a quiz for me for my birthday last year and one of the questions was: who is the most regular customer? We have people who come in every Monday and Tuesday night. We have one who comes in every Sunday with his children. So I put those and I got it wrong, because apparently the most regular customer is me. Especially since my husband died, this is my place where I feel most safe and most happy.
In July, if I see a ripe white peach, that will be my favourite food. In winter, if I see polenta with butter and cheese and cavolo nero, that’s my favourite.
Related articles:
Tequila, because I lived in Mexico for six months when my husband had an accident there, and I learned to drink it.
Anything that my grandchildren are going to eat. A lot of the joy of cooking is who you give it to.
The River Cafe Cafe, Thames Wharf, Rainville Road, London W6. Ruth Rogers’ podcast is Ruthie’s Table 4
Editor’s note: our recommendations are chosen independently by our journalists. The Observer may earn a small commission if a reader clicks a link and purchases a recommended product. This revenue helps support Observer journalism.