'You can't ever let the standard slip.'
A freewheeling chef who cut his teeth in the kitchen of legendary Hackney bar The Gun, Ed McIlroy’s Four Legs blew up when a burger created on the fly became a cult hit, putting a dent in the London food scene. Ed went on to crowdfund a reinvention of an old Irish pub in Finsbury Park, reclaiming the Auld Triangle’s former name of The Plimsoll to create a Free House gastropub hybrid. Now, together with Tollington’s Fish Bar, a Spanish take on the British chippy, the Plimsoll has become both a popular local and one of the best places to get a high end meal on a down-to-earth plate. Amongst other things, we talked about Ed’s childhood food memories and 'dirty posh' cooking. We also got a tip for a serious London pub crawl.
You look at the Four Legs strongholds and see that the Plimsoll has fine dining getting nutted by pub grub. In Tollingtons, Spanish pinxtos is squatting in a British chippy. Your cooking style really seems to have mastered the art of ‘dirty posh’. Down to earth meets luxe. How did you end up in such a fun intersection? What drew you to it?
To be honest, it was cooking in a pub that put Four Legs on the style path it’s still on. The reason we cooked that first Dexter Cheeseburger is because we were in a pub - our early menus were a lot more safe. It was once we started gaining trust from punters that we could play around. Naturally, when you’re playing around and getting good feedback, it’s encouraging. It pushes you further into a way of doing the thing. All of a sudden we had a definitive style of cooking and plating, and it came at a time when everything had started to look one-dimensional in terms of the 2018/19 London food scene. It’s very New York to have a little bistro menu with a good cheeseburger on it. That’s all we are, not intentionally. It’s just how it happened. I think it’s a model that works. If there’s a menu with a burger as well as brill with a Vin Jaune sauce, I feel pretty safe in the hands of the cook.
What are your earliest cooking memories? Was there anything a family member used to make or a formative occasion you remember that got you into food (as it were)?
About 90% of my happy childhood memories revolve around food, cooking and kitchens. I grew up in a dysfunctional family, but I can’t say I didn’t eat well. Multiple times a week I’d have dinner at my grandma’s house. Three generations of the family would be there. Her and my mum are both great bakers. My dad had a repertoire; Minestrone Soup, roast chicken, salad and potatoes, or cold beans and tinned sardines when he was home alone.
We went to Borough Market on weekends and bought our meat from a butcher, fish from a fishmongers. My parents didn’t agree with buying their food from supermarkets. We’d go to them to buy cleaning products, bin bags and that. That’s probably the best lesson they ever taught me. We’re still dysfunctional now, but our lives when we’re together revolve around food. The buying, the preparing and eating thereof. The majority of our time spent together is spent around a table. More often than not, our tables at home, or on the odd occasion, at a restaurant. But, really, there’s nowhere I feel more comfortable than the table at home.
What about cheffing? Did you train anywhere or learn on the job? What were your early kitchens like?
I fell into this work, from bike courier and Deliveroo to a food van then into kitchens. I didn’t think too much about anything in my 20s. I went wherever I wanted for work. I asked for a job on a food van because it was January and being a courier in London in January is shit. I just wanted to get out of the cold.
That van job was definitely the one that made me think more than I had in the past. I realised it could be worth having a go in a proper restaurant. As soon as I got into a proper kitchen, that was it. There were young kids running rings around me and there were older fairly useless cooks who I felt leagues above. It was confusing but it lit a fire under me that made me want to learn. I worked for anyone, anywhere, until I took the kitchen in The Gun (RIP) which is what led to the Compton Arms residency. From there came Four Legs.
You established Four Legs in the London food scene when your Dexter cheeseburger blew up. What’s it like having a viral / word of mouth moment? How did that shape the journey to come?
I don’t really think too much about it. If anything it can be quite stressful because you can’t ever let the standard slip. Try telling a young enthusiastic chef who wants to learn sauces, fish prep and proper cookery to make sure the right amount of sauce is on a burger bun or the chips are fried long enough. They probably think I’m an idiot. I love the Dexter though. It has allowed us the freedom to carry on doing what we do without ever having to bend our style or morals too far. Selling so many burgers means we can sell a half brill for £26 and truffle pasta for £15. We can sell restaurant quality at pub prices.
The Plimsoll is an independent pub, but ... what does independent mean? What makes pubs that stand on their own two feet — or Four Legs — so important?
Freedom. Freedom in the drinks we’re pouring. Freedom to barter with all of the breweries rather than one. There’s a game to be played with how much you can get in return for buying beer. It feels old school but it’s still very much part of the industry.
Independence from a board of investors has always been paramount in what we’re doing. I have the stresses that anyone who runs a business has, but I don’t have anyone questioning my wage bill or staff welfare budget. The profits can be shared with the people running the place rather than a bank or private fund. I’ve been approached once or twice by people that any sensible hospitality person would jump to work with, but there’s always going to be something stopping me from doing it.
The Plimsoll was crowdfunded by a Kick Starter. Why did you take this route, and what was the process like?
I did it because I’d signed the lease on The Plimsoll and I didn’t have anyone I could ask for the kind of money I needed to do it up. We had a couple of brilliant regulars at the Compton who had promised to put in a couple of grand. I just didn’t have another way to come up with the money. I was spurred on by our online presence at the time. Covid was actually good for us, and I was less jaded then by the industry, which meant I was more active on the Four Legs Instagram. It was also the perfect storm. The public’s enthusiasm for pubs and restaurants following the lockdown years was the real catalyst for going down the Kickstarter route.
Then there’s renovations. Taking over an old Irish boozer frequented by Arsenal fans. An old chippy. How did the heritage and identity of these places factor into your reworks, and how does it shape them now?
I grew up in and around London. My entire cultural heritage is in this city. I listen to people moan about London all the time and it drives me up the wall. Fair enough moan about the politicians and the economy, but London is the greatest city on earth, thanks to the people in it. Our identity is in the pubs and the cafes. Mine is, anyway. They’re the buildings I’ve always felt most myself in, those and Stamford Bridge.
I’ve had people ask me whether I worry about gentrification, which I think is mental. I’m a Londoner with an independent business opening genuine hospitality venues with purpose. Why’s that any worse to another fried chicken shop or another kebab shop? What’s the media got against small plates that it doesn’t have against all the money laundering businesses taking up the high street?
I understand you work across both Four Legs establishments. What’s a typical Ed day like? How do you find it looking after (and with) teams? How’s the atmosphere?
I sort of got flung into the office at the start of the year. It was a shock at first because I’d been used to the life of a cook for literally years. As much as little soft boys and girls out there want to bang the drum about how miserable life is as a chef, you really can’t take any notice. It’s sore on your back, yes, but same-same when I was a scaffolder, and it’s sore on your legs, but so was being a bike courier. The hours are antisocial but that’s the same for doctors and first responders. The hours are long but so are the hours of a lawyer. Chefs are the only ones that seem to want a medal for doing the job.
I miss it dearly. It’s the best job I’ve ever done, and I look forward to getting back in the kitchen one day. Being in-office has been rewarding in other ways mind you. I now understand elements of the business that I’d been oblivious to previously. This year has been a big year of organisation and standardisation across the restaurants, understanding what makes them tick and trying to make them more profitable whilst the world seems hellbent on the opposite.
Next year I’m really looking forward to reinvesting some of that money into people. I've realised that a big part of my job is protecting the company and teams from negative outside forces, but the flip side is we now have the freedom to focus on the culture of the business that we’re building up too. Basically I can’t wait to start going on holiday with the teams, getting pissed up in Barcelona and eating one million bombas.
I wanted to ask about collaborations. Partnering with other kitchens, bars and makers seems to be a booming part of the food industry right now. What have your recent collaborative experiences been, and how have they gone?
I love this trend. Four Legs has cooked a couple of times this year with friends at Casa Lhasa in Ibiza. Paris is coming up this month. In the past we’ve cooked in Berlin, Bangkok, and in the future we’ll be in Mexico and Cape Town. It’s a perk of the job more than anything, and for us, it's not really about a payday; it’s a network. People we know and love and respect offer each other opportunities otherwise unavailable. If you work in hospitality you tend to be an incredible host, so going away for a pop-up really ends up being a bar and restaurant crawl in a new part of the world with new friends and a sprinkling of work.
What’s a dream collaboration or future project? Be good to check back in a couple of years and see if you’ve pulled it off!
To go and cook with Francis Mallmann over fire in the green outdoors of Argentina.
This last part is where we ask you to send some cultural inspiration out into the world, recommending 5 Good Things and the reasons why you chose them.
A restaurant or cafe you like in your city.
Blankita - Seven Sisters
A film everyone should watch.
I Like Killing Flies by Matt Mahurin
A book everyone should read.
Ham on Rye by Charles Bukowski
A musical album or an artist who means something to you.
Francesco Farfa
Where you’d send someone if they were visiting your city or hometown for the first time.
I’m going to suggest a crawl. Breakfast in Terry’s Cafe, Lunch at Manze’s at Tower Bridge, Dinner at St John, then I recommend getting pissed up in a few of my favourite establishments: The Park Tavern, The Robin, Molly Blooms, The Victory before a night cap at Mascara Bar.
Ed wore our 3001 Overshirt in deep indigo, a pair of charcoal 5020 Utility Pants in drill, a 7006 Plain tee in grey marl, and a 4020 Knowledge Cap in ultra blue.
5 Good Things - Ed McIlroy - London, UK
'You can't ever let the standard slip.'
A freewheeling chef who cut his teeth in the kitchen of legendary Hackney bar The Gun, Ed McIlroy’s Four Legs blew up when a burger created on the fly became a cult hit, putting a dent in the London food scene. Ed went on to crowdfund a reinvention of an old Irish pub in Finsbury Park, reclaiming the Auld Triangle’s former name of The Plimsoll to create a Free House gastropub hybrid. Now, together with Tollington’s Fish Bar, a Spanish take on the British chippy, the Plimsoll has become both a popular local and one of the best places to get a high end meal on a down-to-earth plate. Amongst other things, we talked about Ed’s childhood food memories and 'dirty posh' cooking. We also got a tip for a serious London pub crawl.
You look at the Four Legs strongholds and see that the Plimsoll has fine dining getting nutted by pub grub. In Tollingtons, Spanish pinxtos is squatting in a British chippy. Your cooking style really seems to have mastered the art of ‘dirty posh’. Down to earth meets luxe. How did you end up in such a fun intersection? What drew you to it?
To be honest, it was cooking in a pub that put Four Legs on the style path it’s still on. The reason we cooked that first Dexter Cheeseburger is because we were in a pub - our early menus were a lot more safe. It was once we started gaining trust from punters that we could play around. Naturally, when you’re playing around and getting good feedback, it’s encouraging. It pushes you further into a way of doing the thing. All of a sudden we had a definitive style of cooking and plating, and it came at a time when everything had started to look one-dimensional in terms of the 2018/19 London food scene. It’s very New York to have a little bistro menu with a good cheeseburger on it. That’s all we are, not intentionally. It’s just how it happened. I think it’s a model that works. If there’s a menu with a burger as well as brill with a Vin Jaune sauce, I feel pretty safe in the hands of the cook.
What are your earliest cooking memories? Was there anything a family member used to make or a formative occasion you remember that got you into food (as it were)?
About 90% of my happy childhood memories revolve around food, cooking and kitchens. I grew up in a dysfunctional family, but I can’t say I didn’t eat well. Multiple times a week I’d have dinner at my grandma’s house. Three generations of the family would be there. Her and my mum are both great bakers. My dad had a repertoire; Minestrone Soup, roast chicken, salad and potatoes, or cold beans and tinned sardines when he was home alone.
We went to Borough Market on weekends and bought our meat from a butcher, fish from a fishmongers. My parents didn’t agree with buying their food from supermarkets. We’d go to them to buy cleaning products, bin bags and that. That’s probably the best lesson they ever taught me. We’re still dysfunctional now, but our lives when we’re together revolve around food. The buying, the preparing and eating thereof. The majority of our time spent together is spent around a table. More often than not, our tables at home, or on the odd occasion, at a restaurant. But, really, there’s nowhere I feel more comfortable than the table at home.
What about cheffing? Did you train anywhere or learn on the job? What were your early kitchens like?
I fell into this work, from bike courier and Deliveroo to a food van then into kitchens. I didn’t think too much about anything in my 20s. I went wherever I wanted for work. I asked for a job on a food van because it was January and being a courier in London in January is shit. I just wanted to get out of the cold.
That van job was definitely the one that made me think more than I had in the past. I realised it could be worth having a go in a proper restaurant. As soon as I got into a proper kitchen, that was it. There were young kids running rings around me and there were older fairly useless cooks who I felt leagues above. It was confusing but it lit a fire under me that made me want to learn. I worked for anyone, anywhere, until I took the kitchen in The Gun (RIP) which is what led to the Compton Arms residency. From there came Four Legs.
You established Four Legs in the London food scene when your Dexter cheeseburger blew up. What’s it like having a viral / word of mouth moment? How did that shape the journey to come?
I don’t really think too much about it. If anything it can be quite stressful because you can’t ever let the standard slip. Try telling a young enthusiastic chef who wants to learn sauces, fish prep and proper cookery to make sure the right amount of sauce is on a burger bun or the chips are fried long enough. They probably think I’m an idiot. I love the Dexter though. It has allowed us the freedom to carry on doing what we do without ever having to bend our style or morals too far. Selling so many burgers means we can sell a half brill for £26 and truffle pasta for £15. We can sell restaurant quality at pub prices.
The Plimsoll is an independent pub, but ... what does independent mean? What makes pubs that stand on their own two feet — or Four Legs — so important?
Freedom. Freedom in the drinks we’re pouring. Freedom to barter with all of the breweries rather than one. There’s a game to be played with how much you can get in return for buying beer. It feels old school but it’s still very much part of the industry.
Independence from a board of investors has always been paramount in what we’re doing. I have the stresses that anyone who runs a business has, but I don’t have anyone questioning my wage bill or staff welfare budget. The profits can be shared with the people running the place rather than a bank or private fund. I’ve been approached once or twice by people that any sensible hospitality person would jump to work with, but there’s always going to be something stopping me from doing it.
The Plimsoll was crowdfunded by a Kick Starter. Why did you take this route, and what was the process like?
I did it because I’d signed the lease on The Plimsoll and I didn’t have anyone I could ask for the kind of money I needed to do it up. We had a couple of brilliant regulars at the Compton who had promised to put in a couple of grand. I just didn’t have another way to come up with the money. I was spurred on by our online presence at the time. Covid was actually good for us, and I was less jaded then by the industry, which meant I was more active on the Four Legs Instagram. It was also the perfect storm. The public’s enthusiasm for pubs and restaurants following the lockdown years was the real catalyst for going down the Kickstarter route.
Then there’s renovations. Taking over an old Irish boozer frequented by Arsenal fans. An old chippy. How did the heritage and identity of these places factor into your reworks, and how does it shape them now?
I grew up in and around London. My entire cultural heritage is in this city. I listen to people moan about London all the time and it drives me up the wall. Fair enough moan about the politicians and the economy, but London is the greatest city on earth, thanks to the people in it. Our identity is in the pubs and the cafes. Mine is, anyway. They’re the buildings I’ve always felt most myself in, those and Stamford Bridge.
I’ve had people ask me whether I worry about gentrification, which I think is mental. I’m a Londoner with an independent business opening genuine hospitality venues with purpose. Why’s that any worse to another fried chicken shop or another kebab shop? What’s the media got against small plates that it doesn’t have against all the money laundering businesses taking up the high street?
I understand you work across both Four Legs establishments. What’s a typical Ed day like? How do you find it looking after (and with) teams? How’s the atmosphere?
I sort of got flung into the office at the start of the year. It was a shock at first because I’d been used to the life of a cook for literally years. As much as little soft boys and girls out there want to bang the drum about how miserable life is as a chef, you really can’t take any notice. It’s sore on your back, yes, but same-same when I was a scaffolder, and it’s sore on your legs, but so was being a bike courier. The hours are antisocial but that’s the same for doctors and first responders. The hours are long but so are the hours of a lawyer. Chefs are the only ones that seem to want a medal for doing the job.
I miss it dearly. It’s the best job I’ve ever done, and I look forward to getting back in the kitchen one day. Being in-office has been rewarding in other ways mind you. I now understand elements of the business that I’d been oblivious to previously. This year has been a big year of organisation and standardisation across the restaurants, understanding what makes them tick and trying to make them more profitable whilst the world seems hellbent on the opposite.
Next year I’m really looking forward to reinvesting some of that money into people. I've realised that a big part of my job is protecting the company and teams from negative outside forces, but the flip side is we now have the freedom to focus on the culture of the business that we’re building up too. Basically I can’t wait to start going on holiday with the teams, getting pissed up in Barcelona and eating one million bombas.
I wanted to ask about collaborations. Partnering with other kitchens, bars and makers seems to be a booming part of the food industry right now. What have your recent collaborative experiences been, and how have they gone?
I love this trend. Four Legs has cooked a couple of times this year with friends at Casa Lhasa in Ibiza. Paris is coming up this month. In the past we’ve cooked in Berlin, Bangkok, and in the future we’ll be in Mexico and Cape Town. It’s a perk of the job more than anything, and for us, it's not really about a payday; it’s a network. People we know and love and respect offer each other opportunities otherwise unavailable. If you work in hospitality you tend to be an incredible host, so going away for a pop-up really ends up being a bar and restaurant crawl in a new part of the world with new friends and a sprinkling of work.
What’s a dream collaboration or future project? Be good to check back in a couple of years and see if you’ve pulled it off!
To go and cook with Francis Mallmann over fire in the green outdoors of Argentina.
This last part is where we ask you to send some cultural inspiration out into the world, recommending 5 Good Things and the reasons why you chose them.
A restaurant or cafe you like in your city.
Blankita - Seven Sisters
A film everyone should watch.
I Like Killing Flies by Matt Mahurin
A book everyone should read.
Ham on Rye by Charles Bukowski
A musical album or an artist who means something to you.
Francesco Farfa
Where you’d send someone if they were visiting your city or hometown for the first time.
I’m going to suggest a crawl. Breakfast in Terry’s Cafe, Lunch at Manze’s at Tower Bridge, Dinner at St John, then I recommend getting pissed up in a few of my favourite establishments: The Park Tavern, The Robin, Molly Blooms, The Victory before a night cap at Mascara Bar.
Ed wore our 3001 Overshirt in deep indigo, a pair of charcoal 5020 Utility Pants in drill, a 7006 Plain tee in grey marl, and a 4020 Knowledge Cap in ultra blue.