Pick & Cheese, London’s cheese conveyor belt restaurant—the first of its kind worldwide—is both too casual and too cheese-centric to attract the attention of Michelin inspectors, more’s the pity, because never have I encountered a restaurant so worthy of international destination dining. Give it all the stars, along with all of my money, I say. When I first learned of its existence, I informed my London-based boyfriend that we would be going there at our earliest convenience, and, because the universe is generous, (and because the BF is equally cheese-enthusiastic, especially for blues,) it was scarcely a month until travel aligned to make it happen.
You may already be familiar with the format of a “revolving” sushi bar, where all seats in the restaurant are organized around a conveyor belt, ferrying plates of rolls and nigiri along its path for patrons to simply pick off and enjoy at their own pace and volume. Now, replace “rolls and nigiri” with “cheese and accoutrements.” The genuine glee I felt when witnessing cheese-filled domes moving around the space in their elegant, carousel choreography cannot be understated; much squealing was involved. Not since fondue has restaurant cheese been this fun and interactive, and I say that as someone who used to push a tableside cheese trolley around a fine dining restaurant.
The Space
Pick & Cheese, located in Covent Garden’s Seven Dials Market, is owned by Mathew Carver, a champion of British cheese and proprietor of several London cheese restaurants, including The Cheese Bar, The Cheese Barge, and a retail cheese shop called Funk. Carver obviously has his finger on the pulse of an ever-growing cheese scene in need of new followers, committed to cheese experiences that feel more like carnivals than temples. You hardly have to be a turophile to be intrigued by cheese plates traveling around the room on a dairy-go-round, and the open format of Pick & Cheese commands the pause of just about everyone who passes by. (You’ll need a reservation during prime times.)
It doesn’t hurt that such a unique concept is also housed in one of the coolest food halls I’ve seen: Seven Dials Market is located in a former banana warehouse, and yes, the banana imagery is rampant. The ground floor includes several sit-down restaurants, including Pick & Cheese, and the basement is outfitted more like a food hall, with several counter service restaurants, a bar, and communal table seating.
The Cheese
The cheese selections at Pick & Cheese run the gamut from British stalwarts like Keen’s Cheddar, Cheshire, and Stilton, to small-batch or avant-garde cheeses from up-and-coming British (and the occasional Irish) cheesemakers. A few favorites included Rachel, a firm, washed-rind, goat’s cheese named for the cheesemaker’s ex-girlfriend; Ashcombe, a morbier-inspired cheese dreamt up during lockdown; and St. James, an unpasteurized, sheep milk number with earthy, brined rind.
I’m all for a limited, well-curated cheese plate in its own right, but my favorite cheese experiences are often about a well-executed pairing, and Pick & Cheese offers this up in spades on a (revolving) platter. Each of its 2 dozen cheeses is paired with a perfect match: Stichelton blue with a hazelnut brownie, a sheep’s ricotta with amarena cherries, and Gorwydd Caerphilly with piccalilli, a pickled vegetable relish with a tangy mustard sauce.
The Experience
Each plate includes a small portion of cheese with its designated accompaniment, numbered to correspond with a printed menu, complete with symbols to indicate animal milk, milk condition, and rennet type, but I found that the real fun of it was just giving in and picking off whatever looked good, and yes, it’s difficult to restrain oneself when beautiful cheeses are continually whizzing by your face, threatening to get away if you don’t grab it. (Come hungry, and come with friends for maximum impact.) In fact, because there was no question that I’d love all the cheeses, I found myself gravitating to those whose accompaniments I was most intrigued by and which spoke to the kind of cheese that might be involved: melted leeks with the aforementioned, savory St. James, cumin roasted pineapple with a fruity Coolea, and candied peanuts with Yarlington, a cider-washed stinker.
The plates are color-coordinated according to price, ranging from about £4 to £7 each. Spinning around the bar, the cheeses are all perfectly tempered, but also have color-coordinated stickers to alert the staff as to when they were placed on the conveyor, so they may be removed after a certain period of time, so late-night diners needn’t worry that their cheese might give them the spins from revolving since lunch.
Taking a few recommendations from the staff, and from an intrepid solo diner, there were a couple of cheeses we were committed to finding, one of which evaded us: a candied, Cornish gouda paired with a clotted cream fudge. Only when reviewing my photographs later did I learn that one had passed us by early on, when I was still overwhelmed by glee and trying to make a game plan to taste as much and as varied a lineup as possible. It was the one that literally got away. I wasn’t concerned, however. Pick & Cheese is one of those places you cannot wait to return to, even before you’ve left.