Inside London Epicerie, A High-End Grocer’s With Substance

If you’re at all dialled in to what’s going on in New York, chances are you’ve heard about Meadow Lane. To the uninitiated, Meadow Lane is simply a good-looking, upmarket grocer’s and deli in Tribeca selling fancy produce, salads and smoothies. Nothing out of the ordinary. But in the broader cultural conversation, Meadow Lane is so much more than that. It’s a distillation of everything wrong with New York – an emblem of wealth and food inequality. It’s the epitome of sheep-like social media behaviour – the sort that prompts people to queue up to spend silly amounts of money on lunch just so they can say they did. It’s a temple of ragebait.

This place was always going to be fodder for ridicule, to be honest. The founder, 29-year-old Sammy Nussdorf, is what some might label a nepo baby – the Upper East Side-born, expensively educated descendant of Forbes-list billionaires. Nussdorf, who previously worked in VC for the family office, came up with the idea for his bougie Manhattan grocer’s after frequenting Erewhon during his time in LA. The name ‘Meadow Lane’ came from the street commonly referred to as Billionaires’ Row in the Hamptons where his family has a house. An arch, Wildean character, he instantly made himself the face of the company, documenting the year and a half journey of building it on TikTok and racking up tens of thousands of followers. He made no apologies for his privilege and enjoyed calling out the ‘haters’. Before the ribbon was even cut, he’d attracted his fair share of detractors but also drummed up considerable intrigue.

When Meadow Lane first opened its doors in November last year, there were queues around the block. The Cut and Feed Me sent correspondents to scan the line. It was covered by Vogue and Vanity Fair, and on TikTok, New Yorkers posted hauls of their three-figure orders. Initial reports weren’t exactly glowing. There were complaints about undercooked chicken nuggets and mislabelled allergens, and rumours circulated about mouse sightings. The chicken salad was a viral hit, but many agreed that overall the food did not warrant the price tag. A critic from the Times in the UK sent his own report without mincing his words: ‘a con’, ‘veers between patchy and appalling’. Still, Meadow Lane saw incredible success. Nussdorf reported that the store cleared his annual goal of $5m in revenue in five months. Call it the Erewhon model, where the insane prices became part of the draw, the instantly recognisable shopping bag a status symbol. The Veblen effect.

For a city that keeps an eye on New York (however loath it may be to admit it), London so far hasn’t had a Meadow Lane equivalent. There are the old-school grande dames of designer grocers, like Fortnum’s and Daylesford, although these are mostly populated by tourists and yummy mummies respectively. The newer Corner Shop at 180 checks the design-conscious box and is a social media favourite (if I see one more photo of those flowers…), but despite early comparisons to Erewhon, it’s really more of a café and bakery with a bit of grocery shopping added on. Back when I was living in Brook Green, I’d enjoy my weekend walks down to Notting Hill Fish + Meat, a high-end butcher’s, fishmonger’s and grocer’s run by the guys behind Dorian, if only to treat myself to one nice thing. It’s cool and sleek with young staff and loud music but it’s still pretty IYKYK, with most shoppers being Notting Hill locals. I guess you could say that in London somewhere like a Meadow Lane has the potential to go down like a lead balloon. We’re suspicious of conspicuous consumption and don’t like the idea of being taken for a ride. That and we simply don’t have New York money.

It’s within this context that London Epicerie landed in Belgravia earlier this month. It says it all that I first discovered this place on TikTok, where a handful of creators billed it as the ‘super aesthetic’ ‘Erewhon of London’ – ‘finally’. If the goal was to channel Meadow Lane, London Epicerie had certainly nailed it, with minimal, Japandi-style interiors, blonde oak shelves and stone counters, soft lighting that invites photography, and not a jar or a legume out of place. The week of the opening, a popular interiors and lifestyle influencer posted a video from the ‘chicest new grocery store’ with the caption ‘who needs erewhon when we have this’. Most of the comments dripped with disdain and mockery: ‘it’s not chic it’s soulless’ ‘#chic #cleangirl’ ‘gentrification ahh supermarket’.

I, too, was pretty eye-roll-y about the whole thing, but on Wednesday night last week, I headed down from the office to Ebury Street, via the hellscape that is Victoria, to suss it out. This was the evening of the eclipse and it was oppressively hot, so you’d expect traffic to be on the lower side. I got there to find the place practically empty. No hordes of young people with their iPhones out. Barely anyone, really, save for a couple of locals popping in to grab the odd bits and bobs. The staff told me it’s been fairly quiet so far - and to be fair, it is pretty tucked away, not a street with serious footfall. But overall, nothing even close to Meadow Lane levels of hysteria.

I can admit that London Epicerie is absolutely gorgeous IRL. Airy and spacious and serene – the sort of spot it’d feel like a privilege rather than a chore to stop by to pick up your dinner after a long day at work. The designer behind it is Deidra Hodgson, who’s also worked on Aesop stores and Watchhouse coffee shops around the city. But the more I explored, the more I realised that London Epicerie’s good looks might actually be its Achilles heel. In reality, this place has heart and an ethos that risks getting buried under all the focus on the ‘aesthetic’.

On my visit, I set to badgering a very normal, unpretentious guy who told me that he was ‘sort of’ the manager on what London Epicerie is really about. The founders, he said, are the couple behind London Cheesemongers on Pavilion Road, where he had previously worked. In other words, they’re food people. I grilled him about provenance too, and he was pretty enthusiastic to reel off every supplier, no notes. Each category of produce has been sourced from whoever they consider to be the best of the best, and 95 per cent of what’s stocked is additive free. Fruit and vegetables are from Flourish Farm in Cambridgeshire and 250-year-old greengrocer Le Marché. Seafood comes from sustainable Cornish supplier Reach the Sea. Dairy is from Neal’s Yard, Westcombe Dairy and Long Lane. The bread is delivered from Alma in Bermondsey, although the plan is to eventually start baking on site.

Elsewhere, there’s pasta from La Tua and Noja Progetto Agricolo. Kimchi from a guy called Richard who only makes kimchi. Coffee from the likes of Clifton Coffee Roasters in Bristol and the local Monmouth Coffee Company, with a grinder on the shop floor. (My instant thought: this would be a great place for gifts for friends from abroad, in the way you might have traditionally got them something ‘quintessentially British’ from Fortnum’s.) The sort-of manager also told me he was the wine buyer and had curated the selection of bottles from around the world. Unlike Meadow Lane, there’s very little in the way of ready-to-go food, although I’m told sandwiches and salads are on the way.

Interestingly, there’s no fresh meat here. Not an ethical decision – rather there’s a Parson’s Nose butcher’s round the corner, and the landlords, the mega-wealthy Grosvenor Estate, have essentially put a non-compete in place. As the sort-of manager explained to me, London Epicerie is really the first step of a larger neighbourhood project. The goal is apparently to create a Pavilion Road equivalent in Belgravia, with a selection of specialty shops and eateries where you can spend a whole Saturday. (FYI Pavilion Road sits on the also-mega-wealthy Cadogan Estate.)

Now for what you really want to know. Tell me if I’m being deeply out of touch here but the prices are not entirely stupid. I spotted 12 fresh lasagna sheets for £3.20, cartons of six eggs for £3.70. I mean, yes, it is obviously expensive compared to a Tesco, and there is some seriously fancy stuff on sale, too. But, I’d say on the whole that these are farmers’ market prices, and if you’ve ever been into a Whole Foods (which, in case you needed reminding, is owned by Amazon), you might even find yourself pleasantly surprised because you’re certainly not getting a fresh fillet of salmon for £6.60 over there.

Anyway, the long and short of it is that, on the back of my half-hour visit, I’ve decided I’m a fan of this place. And not to give away free game but if I were PR-ing them or doing their socials, I’d keep it as wholesome as possible by spotlighting the people and the stories behind the food. More importantly, I’d very deliberately avoid the temptation of courting the ‘come-with-me’ content creators who’d certainly boost traffic and might drive up revenue initially but would also miss the point entirely, turn it into a beauty spot and piss off the Belgravia locals who’d actually shop there on the regular. A Nantucket-style No Influencers sign might not be called for just yet, but doing what it can to shun the Erewhon and Meadow Lane comparisons will cool off the sneers of Londoners before they’ve even had a taste.

A Different Kind of Grocery Store Magnate in the New York Times

Meadow Lane’s Sammy Nussdorf on Feed Me’s Expense Account