It is perhaps not so surprising that news of the death of restaurateur, club owner and art dealer Andrew Edmunds has sparked so many memories shared by so many Londoners.
His eponymous Soho restaurant, which has served his homely, simple cuisine on Lexington Street for some 37 years, has long been a favorite of restaurant writers, fashionistas and anyone after a cozy meal with someone they fancy. Regularly hitting lists of ‘London’s most romantic restaurants’, this small, cramped, candlelit space is known as a place to hide, hang out and where business could begin. Its menu – British and French in a way, deliciously pared down – appeals, but the place remains best known for its extraordinary wine list, all the more extraordinary for being so reasonably priced. Others opt for the familiarity of its interior, which has rarely been updated: the floor is dark stained wood, the wallpaper still contains wood chips. The tables have white tablecloths, the crockery is simple. This is the Soho ideal of a bistro.
It is telling that, writing in the Standard in 2017, Fay Maschler’s description of the place nods to an article printed some twenty years earlier, testifying to its unchanging character. Maschler wrote, “Cooking keeps pace with the evolution of the way we like to eat, but is never extremely smart. The list of drinks, along with additional bottles on the blackboard, continues to delight and demand exploration.
“There’s no better description than Bruce Yardley’s in my 1996 Evening Standard restaurant guide: ‘a bizarre assortment that looks like it was bought at auction after the death of a wealthy eccentric, with surprisingly large bottles available at favorable prices. ‘. And it’s still true.
Having founded his art dealership in 1974, Edmunds bought his pair of 18th-century Soho apartment buildings in the early 1980s, when Soho was well and truly at its crass peak – and when the accompanying dilapidation meant that the property was cheap. On the one hand, he opened a printing press, selling cartoons from the 1700s, and on the other, his restaurant. It has long been called “a bastion of old Soho”, which could now be considered a noisy place for long lunches and dinners that last until closing time. A glorious feeling of being out of time – that is, at Andrew Edmunds, it’s 1985 forever, without it being a conscious pose or a throwback – means that eating on the ground floor floor or basement looks like a living column of Jeffrey Bernard, but with less vodka and bitch, or, as restaurant critic Marina O’Loughlin put it, “It all makes you feel like you’re playing in a Keith Waterhouse novel or hanging out with George Melly.
Upstairs is the Academy Club, created by Auberon Waugh and still in operation today; always literary and journalistic, it is said to be a digest from below. The entire place has long been filled with those who prefer long, laughing conversations and always order an extra bottle to keep things going.
Edmunds’ death was confirmed yesterday on the restaurant’s website and on his social media, with a notice confirming he had died aged 79, apparently after a short illness. Edmunds – who was described by Tim Lord, the president of the Soho Society, as “a low-key but extremely intelligent and thoughtful man who loved Soho and understood its history and heritage better than most” – was known to be shy in matters of advertising.
That his restaurant had so many well-known fans and that Edmunds himself is spoken of so warmly is a testament to the way his restaurant was run. Former Evening Standard editor Joy Lo Dico wrote on Twitter: “He brought together London writers, artists and merchants, and notable waifs and strays into the club and, aided by the fine wines he served, many deep friendships were born. Andrew enjoyed both beauty and bacchanalia. He passed away this weekend.”
Lo Dico’s tribute was one of many online. Journalist Dr Bendor Grosvenor wrote: “He knew everything there was to know about British printmaking. He was the kind of person who always made you feel better if you ever saw him, even if it was just a random conversation on a street in Soho. Former Vogue editor Alexandra Shulman tweeted: ‘An already sad day, just learned of the death of Andrew Edmunds. His restaurant has been one of my favorite places for so long.
The restaurant will “of course” remain open, a spokesperson told The Standard this morning. “Rain or rain, Andrew would never want the restaurant to close. We will remain open as he wished. May he stay as he always has.
A page just to give was created in memory of Edmunds.
Comments are closed.