How do restaurants do it? In an age when fashions in food pass as quickly as a fine day in an English summer, how does a restaurant last 5 years, let alone 50? You might think the answer obvious…look at the oldest and you can see why: they are the benchmark of their type (Rules and game); they move with the times, reinventing themselves (Criterion); even move location (Wiltons); or they are, simply, well placed (Sweetings). While any of the above may be true, in fact it’s simpler still: it’s all in the name.
Think of any of London’s oldest and the name conjures up a myriad of memories. Anyone who’s dined out with any level of sophistication, from a first timer to a seasoned regular, can remember ‘that night they dined at [insert name of long-established restaurant here]’. The cuisine, the company, the location, the decor, the tradition; all have a bearing on what makes the classics classic and everyone has a favourite. For me, there was one name that cemented my penchant for Italian dining, long before I even visited the country, and that was Daphne Rye. But when you’re as good at it as she is, you can call her by her first name. It is, of course, Daphne’s.
Back in 1964, theatrical agent Daphne Rye did what anyone who even steps into a theatre in the 21st century does, she opened a restaurant. You’d think it would be icing on the cake of her career enough that she brought us Richard Burton but, at a time when Italian cuisine meant bolognese at Spaghetti House – themselves still going strong, to be fair – Daphne brought a sense of theatrical sophistication to our uneducated palettes and established a venue synonymous with the finest cuisine our continental cousins could offer.
More than 50 years later and this grand dame has done what every other quintegenarian does on her birthday; she’s had a makeover. However, this is not to suggest that she’s trying to combat the rigours of age, rather she’s bought a new wardrobe. Last June Daphne’s reopened to a delightful and dashing new look. Designer Martin Brudnizki, whose credits read like an index of Zagatt’s, has maintained all the subtle glamour of the dame and added a dash of Dolce Vita charm, from a red marble-topped bar – itself inspired by the Venetian drinking dens of the Grand Tour variety (and inspiring a masked ball, naturally, when it was revealed) – to vintage 1950s Murano glass chandeliers and, significantly, a collection of new European contemporary art for her walls.
That may be her wardrobe, but Daphne’s talents in the kitchen have not passed without redress. After all, the beauty of Italian dining is in its ability to combine the daringly new with its trusted staples; can you decide between octopus carpaccio with zucchini flower and the dish that defines antipasti, fritto misto with lemon mayonnaise? I couldn’t, so I ordered both. There’s the comfort of the rigatoni sorrentina still on the menu, of course, and it wouldn’t be Italian with papardelle and wild boar ragu; but then she’s gone and got herself a new ‘griglia’ with choices from whole sea bream to Dover Sole and its accompanying sauces, which you won’t find anywhere else. Salmoriglio, anyone? But, as with anyone watching her figure, Daphne’s also includes a range of insalate, from the staple caprese to the thoroughly inventive nectarine, coppa and robiola with almonds and white balsamic. Well, wouldn’t you?
In our world of transient fashions, it’s a remarkable thing that a restaurant may last longer than a decade. Few make it to their 21st birthday. But to hit one’s 50th? Well, it’s almost worth a card from the Queen. Evidently, the truism remains: as with anything fashionable, the classics are timeless. They just need a little updating once in a while.
Daphne’s, 112 Draycott Avenue, London SW3 3AE. Website.
