SOLYNKA DUMAS - JULY
- SSAW Collective
- Mar 21
- 7 min read
My siblings tell me that as a baby I had absolutely no interest in eating. It got the family quite worried as my main food group was apple juice, I rejected everything else. I transitioned to porridge around the age of 3, eating it at all times of day with various toppings, raspberry jam, powdered Nesquick, it got pretty creative. To this day no one in the family can look at a bowl without barfing.

And then something clicked, food started to take quite a noticeable space in my mind and my new found enthusiasm took no prisoners. From the age of 5, I ate aggressively. It became more than simple sustenance, it was a whole world of wonders to explore and discover without having to travel very far. The joy of food was something I had to share and so I started to bake for my poor family. My specialty was cereal cake. The recipe was quite simple, put a bit of milk, some sugar to taste, flour and the Kellogs cereal of your choice, pop it in the microwave for 2 minutes and voila! I would then serve it and stare at my parents and siblings with eager eyes until their plates were empty. Food was already my love language then.
I started my career in Gastronomy as a food writer. After journalism school, I was convinced I would work as a film writer. Cinema was a long time passion and I couldn’t think of a better way to start my journalistic journey. However, quite rapidly I realised that what I loved most about being a journalist was hearing people’s story and taking a peek into their lives. Film writing is quite a solitary experience and connecting with fictional characters didn’t quite bring the same level of satisfaction as real people. Food and its endless source of content, seemed like the perfect way to connect my love of history, travel, geography and sociology while meeting fascinating characters and occasionally eating delicious food and drinking heartening wines.
Through my work, I have met a wine maker in Italy who told me he plants Cabernet Sauvignon on the edges of his vines because the smell keeps wild boars away. I have interviewed a drag queen in New York who developed an incredibly successful hot sauce business. And I have met a couple in Berlin that decided to start a catering business where the food mainly comes from invasive species. These connections and stories left me hungry for more, I didn’t want to be watching from the sideline anymore, I wanted to be one of them. After a few years of telling other people’s stories, I decided it was time to write my own.
I applied for a Master’s degree at the University of Gastronomic sciences of Pollenzo in Piemonte. The school was founded by Carlo Petrini, the man behind the Slow Food movement. It was essential for me to study at a place that also shared my values: in a nutshell, think global, eat local. The year I spent at UNISG felt almost surreal. I was living in a small village in northern Italy, riding my bike down the hills of Piemonte, rushing to my classes for a Culatello tasting, focaccia workshop or a Timorasso masterclass.

At first, I wasn’t sure what I would do with my diploma in hand, but quickly it became clear I would be opening a restaurant. It had always been a dream of mine and one I shared with my husband Julian. We would often fantasise about the day in our fifties when we would open a place with delicious food and ever flowing wines to joyful faces. It just happened to come much faster than we anticipated.
In 2022 we started to imagine an all-day concept that would include a bakery and an Alsace-inspired restaurant, binding our French and German heritage. Our code name was July, a contraction of his first name and Soly, my nickname. We wanted to create an inclusive space where guest would be welcomed at all time of day, where you could come in the morning for a croissant and a coffee, stay for a sandwich and a salad at lunch, have some saucisson and wine after work and then end with a lavish dinner in the evening.

Image credit: Safia Shakarchi
Our aspirations for July were to make a friendly, neighbourhood restaurant that wasn’t fussy, didn’t try to reinvent the wheel, but felt like the kind of place you would want to come over and over again. Sharing a meal is a universal symbol of unity and human interconnectedness. In this spirit, July was our contribution to making the world a better place by creating a space of deep connection, where guests matter and where the hosts deeply care.
We wanted the food to be homey and comforting and that’s one of the reasons why we picked the Alsace for the cuisine. We wanted the food to evoke memories of childhood and lengthy family lunch. For Julian, this came mostly from the German food his father and grandmother cooked for him growing up, for me it was the food picked by my parents every weekend at the markets in France. The cuisine of the Alsace englobed both and gave us this feeling of groundedness and comfort.

Image credit: Safia Shakarchi
We also knew that wine had to be a key element at July, as I still have to find a better social lubricant, and we thought the Alsace region was grossly underrepresented. It is a fascinating region that is able to tie together the old and the new in a rare harmony. It managed to preserve its traditions, while being incredibly adaptable, modern and forward thinking. For instance, one third of vines there are grown organically.
The restaurant itself would have to feel like an extension to our home, with original art on the walls, warm colours, and cozy corners. Our customers are our guests and just like in our home, we wanted to be always accommodating.
Another key aspect of our vision for July was to create this place of indulgence and comfort while maintaining a strong ethos at its core. To us, generosity and pleasure do not need to happen at the expense of the earth that feeds us. Regenerative agriculture, seasonality and low waste are at the centre of our philosophy.
Our head chef Holly shares this vision and since the beginning has been a key element in making sure it is carried out by choosing like minded suppliers all across the UK while amazing us with her resourcefulness. Our kitchen really isn’t big but she manages to still make everything from scratch, always finding ways to reuse and recycle, butcher half carcasses of Mangalitza pig and develop a new menu every week. She is a true superstar but not unlike the rest of the team.

Before opening, we spent endless hours trying to assemble the perfect team. We didn’t necessarily prioritise seniority in the roles we were hiring for. We wanted kind, passionate people that while deeply professional, didn’t have misplaced egos. People that deeply cared with great potential for growth. Skills can be taught, not being a jerk, not so much. It took us quite some time and each team member was subjected to about 5 rounds of interview. It paid off, 9 months after July came to life, we basically still have the same team we opened with. And looking back, we really couldn’t have done it without them and their dedication. This was by far the best investment we could’ve put in for the success of our restaurant and the best advice I can give to anyone planning to open a restaurant: your team is everything, nurture it and it will give it back to you a thousand times.
We had our soft launch at the end of April 2024 and it truly was magical. We were more exhausted than what we had ever experienced. We worked 80 hours a week but we were carried by the joy and enthusiasm of our friends and family. We had made it! Our little oasis of love. We were full, busy, overwhelmed and surfing on this ever powerful high. We felt invincible.

But then reality hit. Our first two reviews came out and they were absolutely soul crushing. We barely had time to get our bearings when the first reviewer arrived on our second official day of opening. In some way, we were flattered that our small neighbourhood place was being reviewed so quickly, but we didn’t understand how little consideration and understanding would go into all the hard work we had put in. In those moments, it is so difficult not to doubt everything you have worked for. To think, screw this, let's give everyone what they know and expect and make another cliche french bistro with steak frites, big bold red wines and cheap imported saucisson.
After drying our tears, we decided to stay strong, take some of the criticism and make changes without compromising our vision. We had to keep the spirit of July while making it simpler and more digestible. We reluctantly but rightfully conceded that the all day concept wasn’t fit for central London, that the variety of offering, instead of giving a feeling of inclusiveness, just gave off confusion. We decided to work on a more traditional format of a full menu lunch and dinner and really focus on what we excelled at: a simple but complex cuisine made to showcase beautiful seasonal produce. This bore its fruit, over the weeks we kept seeing the same guests coming back, the greatest declaration of love we could hope for. And in January we received a Bib Gourmand, an achievement that left us all full of pride but also in complete disbelief. What a relief to see some did get it!

Image credit: Safia Shakarchi
People do not lie when they say that opening a restaurant is incredibly difficult. The highs are so high but the lows are so very low. The emotional and physical investment is massive. Being in this industry is beyond reason, it is the fruit of a deep passion, bordering on obsession. It’s the only way it can work. In these volatile times, where inflation is devastating households it seems almost trivial to want to open restaurants. Who can afford something seemingly so frugal and superficial. And yet, I cannot help but think it is a vital part of community. In this hyperconnected world where relationships are made via screens, where people in cities are often uprooted from their close ones, where the cost of living doesn’t allow friends to cook and gather in homes as freely; restaurants are one of the rare places where people can actually gather, share and connect. We shouldn’t underestimate how important that is.
As we approach the one year anniversary of July, we are filled with pride and joy at what we have built and learnt. It has been a crazy ride but mostly an incredibly rewarding one. We may not have changed the world but we have put a smile on the faces of a few guests and that is enough to make us feel like we are doing exactly what we are supposed to be doing.
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