20 years of Pâté Moi

“IT’S NOT EASY BEING A PRODUCER, BUT THE QUALITY OF THE INGREDIENTS IS NOT SOMETHING I’M WILLING TO COMPROMISE ON”

Twenty years ago this autumn, Flip Dunning made the leap from advertising executive to founder and sole employee of Pâté Moi, a mushroom pâté business at London’s most famous food market. She’s been at Borough ever since, selling her magical handmade pâté and, despite its popularity, resisting any temptation to significantly scale up. To mark her two decades at the Market, we asked her to take us back to the start…

How did you come up with the original recipe for your mushroom pâté?

My brother invented it when he was eight. My family were all very much into cooking: my dad made sausages, pressed tongue, made brawn. You name it, he did it. Not in a fancy way or because we were involved in it professionally, but because we all just absolutely love food. Mum would often ask everyone to make a dish and bring it to the table – and on one of those occasions, my brother brought this mushroom pâté. At university, I made it all the time for friends and one of them told me I should sell it. I suppose I never forgot that.

Was a career as a food producer always the goal?

After university I ended up in advertising. I learned a lot, but my creativity was a bit underused. I was always doing little side projects – not for the money but to keep my brain attuned to creating. I’ve never been money driven. I need money to exist, but in life it’s so important to feel like you’re actually living. Then one day I was walking through Borough Market and saw a stallholder putting their preserves and cheese away at the end of the day. It was like it was watching it in slow motion. It was a lightbulb moment where I just thought, my goodness, how satisfying – that’s exactly how I want to live. I loved the idea of producing something.

How did you make that dream come true?

I asked my dad what he thought about me chucking it all in and trying to get a pitch at Borough. Rather than questioning my lack of experience, he just said: “Absolutely, do it.” I wrote a proposal and a few months later I was shortlisted. Then I got a phone call asking for samples. I didn’t even have packaging, so I put everything in a Kilner jar, drew little acorn tags and carried it all here in a picnic basket. Months later, I got home late one night to find a Borough Market letter on the mat. That envelope was my sliding doors moment. I opened it and the first word was “Congratulations”. I thought, that’s it, this is going to change my life.

And the rest is history?

Not quite. Very sadly, just as I was due to start, my dad died. It was horrific. I wrote a long letter to Borough about how he’d always encouraged me and would’ve been pleased as punch to see me start, but at that moment I wanted to be there to support my family. They wrote back and said they’ve never done this before, but they’ll keep my space for a year. I’ll be forever loyal to them for that.

What do you remember of your first day here, two decades ago?

Day one was 8th September 2006. I’ll never forget it. I didn’t even have a proper table, but I had a pristine white apron on and I felt amazing. I put some samples out – I’ve always been very generous with samples – and the first man who came along was this older American guy. He put it in his mouth and I just stared at him, waiting for his reaction. Then he said: “This is one of the best things I’ve ever eaten.” I’d sold everything by one o’ clock. I went home that night, made triple the amount, and came back the next day.

Twenty years later, you’re still making every batch by hand. Why does that matter?

I do pretty much everything. Our potting machine is currently broken, so I’m even hand-potting at the moment! But it’s important to me that it isn’t mass produced. I still taste every batch because ingredients change. Sometimes it might need a few more drops of double-fermented organic tamari to anchor the flavour – I wouldn’t expect anyone else to recognise that. I have help in the kitchen, but I’m there every week. I even raised my daughter alongside the business. I taught her maths by getting her to count sleeves and money boxes. Looking back, I don’t know how I survived on so little sleep. I’d sit in the vegetable shed behind Jock Stark’s stall and breastfeed her. Madness.

Is it fair to say you’ve built a bit of a cult following over the years?

People come from all over for it. Last week a 17-year-old couple from New York visited because each of their parents, completely separately, had told them they had to come to my stall. That’s a total honour. It’s so blooming rewarding meeting customers. That’s why I can’t imagine not being on the stall. The guy behind Eating with Tod recently told me he’d been buying my pâté for 10 years and described Pâté Moi as “the hidden gem of Borough Market”. Those lovely comments keep me going.

How do you keep the quality so consistent?

It’s not easy being a producer in this climate – food costs are insanely high – but the quality of the ingredients is not something I’m willing to compromise on. I get my curd cheese from Dorset. It’s nice and sharp. Cream cheese would be too rich. The mushrooms change with the season. Around this time of year, I like to incorporate wild mushrooms. It means there’s variation in the colour, but that’s the reality of homemade food. It’s the same with the wild garlic pesto I make. People get so upset when it runs out, but I can’t control the weather. I pick it right till the very last and when it’s gone, it’s gone. But that’s part of the magic.

What’s your favourite way to eat mushroom pâté?

The recipe I always go back to is having it baked in bone-in chicken thighs and wrapped in some excellent Parma ham from the Parma Ham and Mozzarella Stand. It’s the easiest meal. My truffle pâté is excellent under the skin of a roast chicken, too. But you don’t have to do anything complicated with it: it’s delicious just on toasted sourdough with scrambled eggs. It’s got a melting, parfait-like texture, so you can just stir it into cooked gnocchi or pasta. Kids love that – even the ones who normally refuse to eat mushrooms. In fact, even adults who’ve not eaten a mushroom for 20 years can be turned by my pâté. That’s always the ultimate compliment.

Do you still feel the same magic that compelled you to apply to be a trader in the first place?

All markets change and evolve, but the people who are making things fresh, with their own hands, are still here, and I love that. If you go to a producer and ask to try something, they’ll be delighted that you want to connect with them. I love being on the stall and introducing myself as the maker. People light up. They’re genuinely thrilled to meet the person who’s been making something they’ve bought over and over again. It’s never just a transaction. Twenty years later, I’m still excited by it.