On trade; East side story

When Richard Bigg opened a bar in Shoreditch in the nineties it was deemed a major risk. But it turned out to be a shrewd move, as the area rapidly emerged as the capital’s coolest corner. Ben Grant reports

AS I VENTURE to The Big Chill Bar off Brick Lane to interview Cantaloupe Group owner Richard Bigg he has just discovered that his latest venture, Camino, has been named best bar in Britain in the coveted Observer Monthly Food Awards. The fact that the Spanish-themed Camino is, he says, “the bar that reflects [his] ideas the most”, the realisation of a vision that has been a decade and a half in the making, must make the victory all the sweeter. But while some bar trade egos might be a tad inflated at receiving such an accolade Bigg’s response is remarkably understated. His response, and indeed his character, is rather like his bars, in fact. It’s clear that he’s managed to infuse more than a hint of his own personality into his bars, characterised as they are by a laid-back, comfortable atmosphere and an unpolished, unpretentious aesthetic.
Bigg cut his on-trade teeth in the mid-80s during a year long spell in Long Island, NY and Aspen, Colorado – and the location of his apprenticeship was clearly important in fostering the philosophy that has been central to his subsequent success. Mixing cocktails in the US (and two pretty prosperous corners of the States at that) was a far cry from pulling pints for minimum wage in an 80s British boozer: it gave him a respect for the bartending profession, a deep understanding of the importance of good, personable service, and a realisation of the role that the staff play in setting the mood for the entire outlet. “If the bartenders are having fun, it’s infectious,” he explains, so creating a contented, motivated staff has been central to the development of every outlet he has opened.

Bad experience
After the enlightening introduction to Stateside bartending, however, his return to London was a rude awakening. Hired as the assistant general manager of Trust House Forte’s The Dome he immediately realised that, unlike their US colleagues, British bar staff enjoyed precious little credit, kudos, respect – or wages. “We were treated like shit and paid nothing,” he recollects. The experience was so bad that he walked away from the on-trade for four years, trying his hand as a motorcycle courier and classic car salesman. But, miserable though his time at The Dome was, it proved to be a valuable lesson: “I said to myself that if I ever owned a place I’d do precisely the opposite. I’d treat the staff fairly, show them respect and incentivise them. It’s obvious really.”

Lured back to the trade, he managed two City bars (which afforded the time to draw up a business plan on the weekends), before the chance to put these principles into practice finally came along when he was asked by a friend, Nigel Foster, for his opinion on a vacant property in Shoreditch. Having long harboured an ambition to own his own bar, Bigg wasn’t content just to offer advice, so he asked to go in on the project and Foster agreed. The partners cobbled together £120,000 and in November 1995 Cantaloupe opened for business. It must surely be acknowledged as one of the defining moments in the recent history of London’s nightlife scene.
In the last decade the area just to the north east of the City has, of course, become a Mecca for London’s young revellers, a late-night destination rivalled only by the West End. But back in 1995 it was a very different place: a bohemian enclave populated by hordes of trendy young studio-dwelling artists who had nowhere to drink other than a few tired old pubs. Cantaloupe was the first bar to open in the Shoreditch triangle, but it most certainly wasn’t the last.

“I had a gut feeling. The area was full of potential customers,” Bigg recalls, “but most of my friends thought I was completely mad.” It was an incredibly risky move, but befitting of a man who has almost killed himself twice indulging in his passion for fast cars and faster bikes.

Scruffy and relaxed
Having signed on the line the partners set about fitting the bar out on an incredibly tight budget with a founding philosophy to create “a bar where I’d like to go with my mates”. Given that smart bars make him “feel self-conscious and uncomfortable”, it seemed logical to Bigg to move in exactly the opposite direction and create an intentionally unpolished, scruffy décor. The principle inspiration was the Mud Dock Café, a small venue in Bristol that he affectionately describes as “a complete mess”. The design – as in all of the group’s subsequent outlets – was based on bare brickwork, reclaimed timber, stark concrete floors and graffiti murals. The bar itself was made from scaffolding and the ventilation shafts were left exposed. This stark, industrial feature has since become commonplace in myriad bars – but at Cantaloupe this was not so much a style-statement as a financial necessity.
Opening in Shoreditch was a major gamble, but it didn’t take long to become clear that it was going to pay off. Every week saw record sales figures rung through the tills, with Bigg putting in double shifts behind the bar, and in just four weeks the venture had broken even. Weekend punters were queuing round the corner of this otherwise deserted, edgy corner of London, and it wasn’t long before the critics started sniffing around. Cantaloupe scooped the Time Out Best Bar in London prize in 1997 and soon after Shoreditch wasn’t just catering for the local population, but had become a destination in its own right, attracting crowds from across the capital. The scene was evolving fast, with the likes of Home, Great Eastern Dining Room and Shoreditch Electricity Showroom opening for business. Bigg decided the time was ripe to open bar number two, Cargo, and it was to be a major step up in pretty much every regard.

Bigg went to the bank to arrange financing, seeking to borrow most of the £1.3 million set-up budget against Cantaloupe. The bank initially refused to believe that it was possible for a venue of its size to be turning over more than £20,000 a week – but when he opened the books and showed that Cantaloupe was raking in a whopping £45,000 the bank manager was, of course, happy to agree the loan.
This time he opted for a music-led venue, so teamed up with Chris Greenwood, a DJ friend from the Long Island days: “Chris proposed a partnership where he’d take care of the music and I’d do the drinks.” It proved to be another inspired move, though securing a licence was a major headache that took almost two years. Carrying a burden of debt that would have crippled the fledgling Cantaloupe Group in an instant “was an incredibly scary time”, he explains, “the stress levels went through the roof”. But once again his finger was firmly on the pulse, and the eclectic musical offering at a venue that cleverly walks the tightrope between bar and club proved to be another big hit with the Shoreditch crowd.
Two years passed before it was time for the next venture and, true to form, Bigg opted against the obvious option. There was still plenty of mileage to expand locally – “the area hit its peak in 2003/04 when the police told me there were more people on the streets of Shoreditch than Soho on a Friday night” – but he was ready for a fresh challenge, and when an old postal sorting office became vacant just north of Oxford Street he decided that the time was ripe for Cantaloupe to look west. “We decided to try and bring a slice of Shoreditch to the West End,” he explains, but admits to being “pretty worried” whether the understated DJ bar – scruffily decked out in what appears to be the remains of a thousand shipping crates – would resonate with drinkers in an area where the bars tended to have a rather more polished feel.

The answer was a resounding “yes”. Market Place proved to be another winner, helped along by a superb open outdoor space in front of the bar that can comfortably fit 300 drinkers in the summer, significantly more than the 200 capacity that can cram inside (the bar has both an on- and off-licence to enable the use of the space). Once again the bar gods were shining favourably on Bigg: in the period between acquiring the premises and opening the bar, Westminster Council kindly shelled out over £1m tidying up Market Place (the square), helping to make it one of the capitals most pleasant corners for outdoor drinking. Interestingly, in the aftermath of the smoking ban, providing attractive outside space has become a top priority for the group, and Bigg confirms he would only be interested in new locations that meet this non-negotiable requirement.

Time to chill
Bigg had been involved with the organisers of The Big Chill festival for more than a decade, and his next move was to shift back to the east and open a bar under this widely recognised brand name in the heart of hipster-ville, Brick Lane, in 2004. This was followed two years later with Big Chill House, a sister venue to the north in Kings Cross, which is also home to Camino, which opened over the road last summer. Given his pivotal role in kick-starting the Shoreditch zeitgeist, Bigg is often asked which corner will become London’s next hotspot. It’s a question that he is reluctant to answer out loud, but it seems pretty obvious when you consider that his last two openings have been in the shadow of the new Eurostar terminal at St Pancras, around the corner from an enormous redevelopment site the size of Hyde Park.

In order to finance the opening of the two new Kings Cross bars, it was necessary to sell Cantaloupe – the bar the started it all (and which, rather incongruously, still lends its name to the group). As well as the requirement to free up cash for expansion, tellingly he explains that he felt the potential “had peaked”, and the location also failed to tick the outside space box that Bigg insists upon post-smoking ban. The sale has left a clearly defined portfolio of three compelling bar brands – Big Chill, Camino and Market Place – together with the slightly anomalous (but still thriving) Cargo. And he is confident that the three fascias have the potential to be developed into small-scale chains. The first priority for any expansion is to make sure the space is right, but when a suitable location has been found he will select which of the brands will fit best, tweak it appropriately, and roll out the concept. Next up comes the second Market Place, which is opening in Exmouth Market in May and, with the OFM award sting proudly on the mantelpiece, he confirms that “there will be another Camino for sure”. Ultimately he believes that it will be possible to open up to six of each concept without having to compromise, and he is actively seeking potential venues both in London in beyond.
“I always found the idea of chain bars anathema,” he says, “they are soulless because the staff don’t care and neither do the management.” In Bigg’s philosophy – whereby the atmosphere is derived directly from the spirit of the team behind the bar – the impersonal apathy of cookie-cutter brands is abhorrent. But, he argues, it doesn’t have to be this way. “I know that I do care, I do respect my staff, and that gets passed on.” A tangible sense of personality has been central to the success of all of the Cantaloupe Group’s bars to date. There’s no doubt that he has got the template for all three brands just about spot on – but ensuring that this individuality and personality remains as the portfolio grows could yet be the toughest challenge that Bigg has taken on.

db ©  May 2008