It takes a while for Ruth Rogers to sit down for our interview. There is a River Cafe regular who has just popped in that she must say hello to. Then there is the day’s food to be sampled – morsels of pigeon and sea bass and squid – as she checks everything, everyday, with the occasional exception of boiled spinach.
She flits like a brightly colored bird in a denim skirt and emerald green shirt, pecking about amid the open kitchen and its slick ballet of chefs and waiters, and the percussion of steel trays and pans ahead of the lunchtime rush. When she finally settles down in the private dining space at one end of the restaurant, she diagnoses exactly what I need. “A cappuccino, yes?” she asks. It’s 11.30am and I haven’t had breakfast. “And a slice of Ciambella cake, it’s nice and plain, not too sweet.”
