Ruth Rogers: Nina had this impressive C.V. — she’d directed plays at Oxford — which didn’t really qualify her to be a waiter, but of course we took her [in 1999], and with her charm and intelligence, she immediately made the restaurant a better place. At that time, my husband, Richard Rogers [who died in 2021], and I would have charitable events at our house where actors would do one-man shows. Ian McKellen did a night. Judi Dench did a night. Nina wanted to put on a play. She chose “Ashes to Ashes” (1996) by Harold Pinter, and he agreed to come. He rather terrifyingly made it clear that there couldn’t be one extraneous sound in the house while he was there. He wasn’t an easy person, but he was so enamored of Nina.
There are a lot of parallels between what she and I do. Restaurants are full of a controlled sort of drama. Nina picked up on that and later wrote a play set in one [“Service,” 2001]. She’s also collaborative — if I have to write something, she’s the one I call. The first thing we did together was my eulogy for Kirk Varnedoe, the chief curator of painting and sculpture at [New York’s] Museum of Modern Art and my best friend. When our son Bo died a decade later, I wanted to write something, and again she was there for me. We’ve had midnight calls, 3 a.m. calls, spent crossing out paragraphs.
I’ve learned so much from the people I’ve worked with. My husband and I were also very dependent on each other. His architectural practice was steps away from the cafe; he’d call me and say, “Come look at this drawing,” and I’d call him and say, “Come taste this soup.” It’s important to keep friends and loved ones close. I always tell my kids, “Give a big party in a small space.”
Nina Raine: A friend of mine knew an opera singer who worked at the River Cafe and suggested I apply. I think it’s a testament to Ruthie that Jamie Oliver was famous by then but still doing shifts there: I remember him squirting pomodorini tomatoes at everybody like they were water pistols. My friend Kathy Tozer also worked there. She’s an actress and a writer, and we got the idea to do a Pinter two-hander at Ruthie’s.
Ruthie got behind it completely, without knowing whether we’d be any good — she isn’t afraid of risk. I started to get nervous because people like [the directors] Richard Eyre and Peter Hall R.S.V.P.’d yes; they thought they were going to get great canapés at Ruthie Rogers’s house. Being in theater is different than being a novelist because you have to watch people consume your work — Chekhov said it perfectly when, in “The Seagull” (1896), Trigorin thinks all the dark-haired spectators disliked his play and all the fair-haired ones were indifferent. But after our performance, Pinter offered Kathy and me walk-on parts as waitresses in his play “Celebration” (2000).
Ruthie is very wise, especially about relationships, and she’s continually evolving. The first “River Cafe Cookbook” (1995) has these black-and-white photos that I love. I thought, “Why would you ever change that?” But the next one also has color photos. It’s the same with her podcast, which she started during the pandemic — she’s so alive to what’s going on. And of course, her food is divine.
Interviews have been edited and condensed.
