The Rita’s duo stage a southern-style cook out in Soho
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For any British picnic there is a chance of a thunderstorm. And so it is that on the day of Missy Malik-Flynn and Gabriel Pryce’s lunch, London welcomes a record-breaking week of non-stop rain. The founders of Soho restaurant Rita’s remain unflummoxed. Malik-Flynn is just arranging wine bottles full of flowers around her restaurant’s high-walled garden when the rain begins. As her plan B, she quickly pivots to a picnic table under a rickety awning.
Thankfully, the couple have a loose definition of a picnic, rejecting the “Emily Brontë ideal” of “eating under a tree with a gentleman from a neighbouring town”. Says Pryce: “Any kind of snack and drink with more than one person – whether you’re sitting on a coat or a blanket – has the enjoyment of a picnic.”
Malik-Flynn and Pryce established Rita’s in Hackney in 2012; the current restaurant, which opened three years ago, is their first permanent space. Gabe heads up the kitchen: Malik-Flynn handles drinks and front of house. Both have been inspired by their travels around the Americas. “At the core of what we do is conviviality and getting people together,” says Malik-Flynn, a fresh-faced and friendly host in a dress by New York designer Conner Ives.
For this meeting, Pryce is making a Southern-style cookout with grilled shrimp adobada and smoked chicken. Sides include jalapeño cornbread, “pool hall slaw” and Alabama white BBQ sauce (mayonnaise, apple cider vinegar, barbecue spices and horseradish). The chef explains that, in classic Southern barbecues, the sauces themselves aren’t actually smoky. “It looks a bit weird to people who think it should be a little pot of red smoky sauce,” he says of his condiment.
Lunch is scheduled for 1.30, but Malik-Flynn has told her guests to arrive at 1.15. “They’ll be late,” she says. The first person, brand consultant Ronojoy Dam, arrives 15 minutes early, closely followed by director Lucy Luscombe and Sadie, “the only dog allowed in the restaurant”. Everyone lingers by the bar as Malik-Flynn offers around jugs of sangria and fresh todoli citrus and oolong tea (served with or without Tito’s Handmade Vodka); music by alternative radio NTS plays in the background. “Anybody want to go and sit in the rain?” she asks.
While Malik-Flynn gets everyone seated beneath the awning, Pryce brings out a steaming platter and slips out of his chef whites into a shirt by Aimé Leon Dore. “Chef Gabe! Chef Gabe!” chant the group. Soon there is a cacophony of clattering cutlery and affirmative grunts. “I would only eat this with good friends,” says Malik-Flynn. “You want to be able to react to your instinct – to reach out, touch it and eat it. You don’t want random strangers sticking their fingers in everything.”
For Pryce, the joy of a picnic is seeing guests return for second helpings. “I also like to watch how people build plates,” he says. “A couple of shrimps on the side will hold in a bit more salad – there’s an art to it.” The final course, two boxes of Ferrero Rocher – “oddly something our friends seem to love”, says Malik-Flynn. They require less skill to handle, but it’s still a pleasure to watch them disappear, one by one.
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