A friend of mine, who loves her food, attributed ‘the art of lunch’ to summarise one of her recent dining excursions. Our conversation was not about Pied à Terre but led to it. When she realised I had never eaten there, she introduced me to David Moore, as if correcting an omission. Having now been, I understand why.
As you approach Pied à Terre on Fitzrovia’s Charlotte Street it is a hive of activity. People are busy making their way in every direction, it’s alive. I visited on a glorious sunny afternoon and sat outside the restaurant to pause for a few moments, letting London life and the world pass by.
There’s an inviting seating area in front of the restaurant, giving sight to Pied à Terre’s literal street art. The street art is not obvious at first glance. It could quite easily go unnoticed. For some, it might even seem a small detail, but Pied à Terre understands small details.
The stair risers and lower frontage are adorned with grey, black and white figures on a silver background. At first glance they are pattern. Look a little longer and they are dancing, moving, celebrating. It’s captivating and sets the scene for what follows on entry.
Inside, the restaurant was busy. We were warmly welcomed and shown to our table. The table setting was immaculate, sitting on white linen that seemed part of the table rather than placed upon it. Later, I noticed tablecloths being ironed as tables were reset during lunch. Again, Pied à Terre understands small details.
We chose the special anniversary menu, £35 per person, celebrating 35 years on Charlotte Street.
I selected hand-dived Orkney scallop ceviche and slow cooked tortellini with smoked aubergine to start. The scallop was clean, bright and precise, the kind of dish that allows freshness to speak without interference. The tortellini brought something deeper, softer, more comforting, with the smoked aubergine adding warmth without taking over.
For main course, French Quail with Baby Corn and Raspberry Vinegar finished reduction. The quail had richness, lifted at just the right moment by the sharpness of the reduction. The dish was beautifully balanced.
Dessert was white miso, mango and caramelised chocolate. Yum.
What stayed with me most was not one dish, or one moment, but the way everything held together. Food, service, art, pace, room, welcome. None of it shouted. All of it mattered.
That, I think, is why Pied à Terre has endured. A restaurant does not remain relevant for 35 years by accident. It does so through attention, judgement, consistency and the ability to evolve without losing itself.
A brief history of Pied à Terre
David Moore and Richard Neat opened Pied à Terre on Charlotte Street in 1991, following formative years working with Raymond Blanc at Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons.
On opening Neat was the chef, Moore the front of house presence.
The restaurant was awarded its first Michelin star within thirteen months of opening and later gained a second. Over the years, chefs changed, London changed, and dining changed, but Pied à Terre remained the capital’s enduring Michelin-starred restaurant.
Art was part of the restaurant’s identity from the beginning. Pied à Terre was never only about what arrived on the plate. It was about the whole encounter, the room, the pace, the conversation, the visual detail, the feeling of being somewhere considered.
That is perhaps David Moore’s great contribution.
Chefs have cooked at Pied à Terre. Guests have passed through it. Critics have written about it. Stars have been awarded, held, lost and regained. But Moore has remained the constant presence, holding together the ingredients that make a restaurant more than a place to eat.
Over the first 35 years of Pied à Terre a rich history evolved, too rich to cover comprehensively, I hope through the historical notes and my recent experience of dining, I’ve shed some light on what has become a bastion of London gastronomy. A living stage where the chemistry of what a restaurant should be emerged and stayed. Great food combined with courteous service combining exquisitely to deliver the art of lunch.
