Table Talk: the art of the supper club with Ruby Reynolds-Painter

In this month’s Table Talk, we caught up with Ruby Reynolds-Painter – a supper club host and food creator who recently moved from London to Sydney. Known for her instinctive approach to vegetable-led cooking and beautifully styled tables, Ruby has built a devoted following through her neighbourhood events, where strangers sit down together over four courses and leave as friends. 

Her move to Sydney has only deepened that demand – she now has a waitlist of more than 300 people for a seat at the table. Her supper clubs are proof that the simple act of gathering people around an intimate space with flavour-packed dishes sparks conversation, builds communities and makes for a truly memorable experience.

What first drew you to cooking – was there a defining moment or influence?

Food has always brought me enormous joy. My father is a real foodie and loved spending weekends cooking in the kitchen when I was growing up – scrambled eggs on toast on Saturday mornings, birthday cakes and cosy Sunday roasts that fogged up the backdoor glass. My grandma loved baking too, and taught me the essentials including how to make a good Victoria sponge, shortbread and shortcrust pastry. Being one of four, dinner times were always busy and chaotic, but they were also when we connected as a family. My mother was less interested in cooking – her go-to was tuna pasta to feed us all. I never got bored of it, it’s still my comfort dish today.

Who were your early food mentors or inspirations?

Various jobs shaped me as much as my family did. At 16, I worked in a canteen at Waitrose – deciding the daily menu and collecting the ingredients gave me an early taste of the creative side and experimenting with food. Later, an internship at Waitrose head office introduced me to brilliant food stylists and editors including Silvana Franco and Alison Oakervee, who both inspired me with their ideas and depth of knowledge. Going on shoots as a runner and watching how they brought recipes to life taught me more than I could have anticipated, including great camera tricks.

After graduating, I moved to London, joining the social media team at John Lewis – working across home, fashion and beauty campaigns, including the eagerly anticipated Christmas adverts. Food remained a passion lived out on weekends, and it was at this time that my supper clubs were born. Our landlord renovated our Clapham garden over winter, and on the first sunny day of March we suddenly had a beautiful courtyard – big enough for a table, chairs and fairy lights. We cooked, invited everyone over and sat eating and drinking wrapped in blankets until dark. I remember being so happy. That is where it all started.

I adore every element of hosting – the planning, the cooking, the table styling, creating a beautiful evening for the people I love. I started sharing it on social media and the messages came flooding in – friends and friends of friends asking to come to the next supper club. Eventually I began selling tickets at £40 or £50 a head for four courses and wine. People came alone, in couples, in groups, from all walks of life, and it was a beautiful thing to watch everyone come together.

The next chapter began when my boyfriend and I moved to Sydney last October. I wasn’t sure where to start – supper clubs aren’t quite the institution here that they are in London. So I made a post on Instagram and TikTok, and it took off. Over half a million views later, I now have a waitlist of more than 300 people for the next event.

How has your upbringing or cultural background shaped the way you cook?

I was brought up in a house that was always full of people, and dinnertime was the one moment in the day where we all came together – gathered around the table, no phones or TV. So eating – even tuna pasta on a Monday after school – has always felt like a special occasion to me.

Both my parents are deeply creative, my mother is an art teacher and my father is a carpenter – and they loved to travel. Our house was full of colourful textiles, homemade art and photos stuck to the walls. Friends would come round and say how cool it was. I don’t think I fully appreciated it at the time, but so much of my visual style comes from them.

In my teens, my dad had a shop called Mason & Painter on Columbia Road, selling vintage homeware and crockery with his friend Michelle. I’d wander up on Sundays while he worked and it was always my favourite stop – I wanted everything in it. That early immersion in beautiful, considered objects is what drew me to thrifting for tableware. I still love hunting through charity shops and markets for unique pieces. One look at my feed and you can see how much their shop shaped me.

How would you describe your cooking style today? 

Simple, flavourful dishes with as few ingredients as possible. I’m not a fan of cookbooks packed with things you’d never ordinarily buy – honestly, bread and butter is one of my favourite foods. I’ve been vegetarian for years (tuna pasta aside, naturally) and my cooking has always revolved around fruit and vegetables. I love experimenting with different ways to get the most out of them – roasting, pickling, salting. Day-to-day I lean towards healthy, nourishing whole foods, saving something more indulgent for the weekends when I have more time. Though I do have a treat every day, and absolutely can’t go without a square of dark chocolate.

The food culture in Sydney is different – our first night, we had a dinner booking at 8pm and the restaurant was emptying by 8.30pm. We were the last in, staff clearing up around us, and I remember thinking this would never happen in London. In Europe there’s an ease to eating late and lingering, but in Sydney people are in bed by nine so they can be up for a sunrise swim at 5am. My eating times have quietly followed suit, and I find myself naturally reaching for lighter meals in the sunshine. 

The food scene itself, though, is fantastic. I have endless lists of restaurants and bars still to work through, and I’ve been inspired by the Australian love for fresh, locally sourced produce. London still has the edge on cultural diversity and the sheer range of cuisines you can dip into, but the coffee here has made me think differently about how we do things back home – even a beach kiosk will serve you something better than many cafes in London. 

What role do storytelling and memory play in your cooking?

Every dish tells a story of some kind. Even beans on toast says something – that it’s been a long day and I need comfort. A new recipe with bright, zesty ingredients means I’m in a good mood and feeling adventurous. A squash stew means I’m tired and craving a cosy night in to reset.

I’m not sure if it's intentional, but every dish I make is influenced by something. I love social media for that – my explore page is a foodie heaven. I have thousands of recipes saved and never make them in full. Instead, I take snippets from several and construct something new. Eating out feeds that inspiration too. Some of my recent Sydney favourites have been Louie in Coogee for a more special dinner, Iggy’s Bakery in Bronte for its sourdough croissants, and Cut Lunch Deli in Clovelly – a sandwich shop that transforms into a bar after 5pm.

This dish that captures all of that best is one that I’ve been making since my childhood: my father’s apple and raspberry crumble. We’d have it every Sunday after the roast, and sometimes mid-week if there was fruit that needed using up, which was an unexpected treat. The topping is more shortbread than crumble – a delicious mix of butter, flour and sugar at least an inch thick. We’d serve it in bowls and pour over double cream until the crumble disappeared entirely beneath it. The fruit is always perfectly balanced – sweet but with a sharp edge – and I’ve kept the recipe exactly the same as it was from my childhood. 

Ruby’s apple and raspberry crumble 

Top tip: get the ratios right, and always make sure there’s more crumble topping than fruit.

Ingredients

For the fruit

• 2 large apples

• 1 punnet raspberries

• 1 tbsp caster sugar 

• 1 lemon, juiced

• 50ml water

For the topping

• 200g butter

• 150g caster sugar

• 200g plain flour

Method

Preheat the oven to 180C. Peel and slice the apples, then add to a medium saucepan with the raspberries, sugar, lemon juice and water. Cover and simmer on a low heat for 15 minutes, until soft.

Meanwhile, cut the butter into cubes and add to a mixing bowl with the sugar. Rub together between your fingertips until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs, then add the flour and work into a dough. Press or roll it out to roughly the size of your crumble dish.

Tip the fruit into the dish and cover with the crumble topping. Bake for 25 minutes until golden. Serve with cream, ice cream, custard – or all three. 

Find out about Ruby’s next supper club at Ruby’s Food.