WHEN KING OPENED IN 2016, CHEF JESS SHADBOLT LAID THE KITCHEN TILES HERSELF AND BUILT A MENU FROM FREE SAMPLES PROVIDED BY LOCAL PURVEYORS. NEARLY A DECADE LATER, SHE STILL BRUSHES OFF CULINARY LABELS, INSISTING IT’S SIMPLY ABOUT GREAT PRODUCE, SEASON BY SEASON.
“It’s not a concept,” asserts chef Jess Shadbolt, firmly waving away any insinuation of a thematic undercurrent or culinary dogma at King. “It’s just a restaurant.”
She pauses to offer me a glass of sparkling water, then abruptly halts with a hearty laugh. “Wait, I just remembered I drank out of the bottle. It’s a bad habit of mine.”
Shadbolt exudes a particular British charm—effervescent, genuine, and gently self-deprecating—that easily disarms. With a ready smile and easy candor, she dissolves the stereotype of a stern perfectionist chef. Her restaurant, King, though it may defy categorization, does not shy away from ambition.
Founded by Jess Shadbolt and her co-chef Clare de Boer, alongside partner Annie Shi, King transformed its eponymous SoHo corner into an oasis of seasonal sincerity when it opened in 2016.
Since then, a diverse crowd of Downtown guests comes in from Sixth Avenue every evening. They sit down just to stand up again, peering into the large kitchen window to catch a glimpse of seasonal produce in preparation: whole herbs tossed with abandon, spears of asparagus and courgette (not zucchini, please!) flowers left intact, rainbow chard and rhubarb stalks the size of medieval weaponry. The menu reads like a villanelle yearning for the northern Italian countryside. Diners aren’t to worry, it’s been translated into English—for the most part. “Shouldn’t everything be seasonal?” Shadbolt asks after I inquire about the S-word. “I wonder why people keep asking about that.”
“We didn't have any money when we opened. The gas went on at 4 o’clock, and we opened later that evening. The first menu was based on free samples that purveyors sent us.”
EAT, PRAY, COOK
Shadbolt maintains she had no desire to cook professionally for most of her life. While her mother was a confident cook trained at Le Cordon Bleu, the British chef entered the culinary world by chance. After completing her university studies in the UK and pursuing an eclectic career in PR and events, she found herself working at London's renowned River Café, initially as an assistant to its legendary founders, Ruth Rogers and the late Rose Gray.
“I fell deeply in love with being in the rhythm of a restaurant,” she explains, drumming her fingers against the table. She recounts the mesmerizing choreography of her early days, witnessing early morning deliveries and the bustling energy of evening service.
After a stint at Ballymaloe Cookery School in Ireland—a self-described "Eat Pray Love" moment—Jess returned to the River Café at Ruth Rogers' invitation, this time as a chef. “I couldn't believe it," she says as she chuckles. “Everyone there was willing to give you everything they knew. It was taught with such generosity.”
That spirit of generosity, openness, and warmth is something Shadbolt has intentionally carried into King. She recounts the restaurant's early days with affection and astonishment. “We were quite scrappy. Annie’s dad built the tables, and Clare’s mum designed the interior. I laid the tiles in the kitchen myself.” The menu on opening day was put together from what the chefs had on hand: free samples from purveyors.
NIBBLES AND STARTERS
King’s selection remains notably concise—"three nibbles, four starters, three mains"—shaped by the kitchen's modest size and a steadfast commitment to freshness. In the early days, Shadbolt says that patrons skeptically flipped menus upon being seated, searching desperately for more options. “They wanted steak!” she exclaims. Some guests would even walk out, leaving perplexed at the lack of options.
Yet, the team's confidence in seasonal, ingredient-driven simplicity soon resonated deeply with New Yorkers, embracing the exquisitely focused offerings.
Now, nearly a decade later, Shadbolt and her partners also helm Jupiter at Rockefeller Center, though the menus reflect the distinction between their Downtown regulars and Midtown patrons. “We were experimenting with a chicken liver dish for a bit. When we introduced it Uptown, it didn’t land. Downtown loved it immediately.” Shadbolt flashes a smile and a wink. “The city’s diners are wonderfully varied.”
King's charm lies precisely in this unfussy authenticity. Shadbolt’s culinary philosophy, grounded in the teachings of her former employers Rogers and Gray, is hardly revolutionary. She insists it is the intention that matters.
Dishes from King’s kitchen continue to land gracefully on crisp linens bearing understated elegance: tender pastas, gently braised vegetables, seafood that’s picked up some phrases in Italian. The magic is that lack of pretension, embodied by Shadbolt herself.
“I just want people to feel at home,” she says modestly, underselling the sophisticated alchemy she’s achieved. King provides something better than mere comfort: it’s a perfect equilibrium between familiarity and culinary innovation. Yet Shadbolt proclaims once more, her eyes bright with sincerity, “It’s just a restaurant.”
“Shouldn’t everything be seasonal? I wonder why people keep emphasizing that.”
KING RESTAURANT
18 King Street
New York, NY 10014