On Thursday, GAIL’s welcomed us into the heart of their Marylebone bakery to host a supper club. It was a celebration of all things rustic and autumnal, from golden platters of buttery spatchcock chicken, crispy sage and roasted delica pumpkin, to a cavolo nero and straw-strewn tablescape that wouldn’t have looked amiss in a working farmyard.
The idea behind the dinner was quite simple: to bring guests together around a menu heralding the best of British seasonal produce, drawing from GAIL’s brilliant craft suppliers and a few highlights from their in-house Autumn menu. ‘In Good Company’, as the night was named, was all about sharing the stories of these ingredients, and why their provenance - from soil to sourdough - matters so much at GAIL’s.

To say that we got carried away with the brief might be a bit of an understatement. I’m not sure GAIL’s ever imagined they’d find an alternating laundry line of white bloomers, laced lingerie and cavolo nero leaves strung across their bakery floor. Nor, I don’t think, that we would insist that guests be served their dirty martinis from silver tray-topped bales of straw, fresh from the Olympic Park stables. But beyond a shopfront transformation that had the good pedestrians of Marylebone High Street stopping to gawp in their tracks, I think we managed to create an evening that brought the story of the ingredients beyond the plate and into the room itself.
We started with towering clouds of whipped Quicke’s butter and loaves of GAIL’s challah, made for tearing and sharing, alongside Cobble Lane charcuterie from East London and delicate, citrusy mounds of salmon crudo scattered with fresh herbs. Mains arrived in generous, passing platters: from rich, bubbling dauphinois layered with shiitake mushrooms, Taleggio and Lincolnshire Poacher, to an autumn panzanella of GAIL’s sourdough, pale endive, fennel, green apple and earthy cavolo nero, tossed with a cheek-tingling anchovy, tarragon and preserved lemon dressing.
Then, once candles had burnt down low and aprons been cast aside, we joined our guests at the table to finish with a Citizens of Soil olive oil ice cream, served beneath a warm, melting blanket of GAIL’s chai and pistachio cookie, straight from the oven.
Chai and Pistachio Cookies with Olive Oil Ice Cream
Serves 8
For the Olive Oil Ice Cream
- 4 egg yolks
- 175g caster sugar
- 500ml double cream
- 250ml full-fat milk
- a pinch of flaky salt
- 60ml good-quality extra virgin olive oil, plus extra to serve
To Serve
- 8 GAIL’s chai and pistachio cookies
1) Using an electric whisk, beat the egg yolks and sugar until pale, thick and mousse-like.
2) In a saucepan over a medium heat, warm the cream and milk until steaming and just beginning to simmer. Gradually pour into the egg yolk mixture in a steady stream, whisking continuously.
3) Return the mixture to a clean saucepan and cook over a low heat, stirring constantly, until the custard thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon. Take care not to let it boil.
4) Stir in the flaky salt, then strain through a fine sieve into a bowl. Leave to cool slightly, then cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, preferably overnight.
5) Once completely chilled, whisk in the olive oil until fully incorporated.
6) Churn in an ice cream machine according to the manufacturer’s instructions, then transfer to a freezer-safe container and freeze until firm.
7) To serve, scoop the ice cream into individual bowls or coupes, top with a chai and pistachio cookie, and finish with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil.

The evening encapsulated so much of what we love about hosting at this time of year. The hum of conversation around a full, candlelit table; the comfort of a heartening meal that warms you from the inside out; and the abundance of brilliant produce still coming out of British soils, which never fails to excite and inspire our cooking.
We loved bringing this evening to life with GAIL’s, celebrating the ingredients and craftsmanship behind their food, and creating a space for guests to come together over a shared meal. It was a lovely reminder of why we keep coming back to the table: for the food, of course, but just as much for the people gathered around it and the conversations that unfold along the way.
Guest edit by Sophia Pelizzoli (@sophiapelizzoli) and Amy Brett (@thehungryhobbit)
Words by Sophia Pelizzoli
Photography by Harriet Clare