The UK’s food scene in the 1990s was a far cry from what’s on offer today – but it was certainly a decade where things started to change. You had the likes of Marco Pierre White shining a rock-and-roll light on high-stakes fine dining; the concept of the gastropub taking flight and Delia Smith inspiring a nation of home cooks to go and empty the supermarket shelves of sun-dried tomatoes the second she mentioned them on TV.

It was also when some of London’s most iconic culinary institutions sprang up. St John opened its doors and defined British cooking in 1994; The River Cafe, originally opened in 1987, continued to make waves with Italian food. And in 1997, Sam and Sam Clark opened Moro – their trailblazing ode to the flavours of Spain, North Africa, the Middle East and the southern Mediterranean. The fact it still stands – and is as popular as ever – 30 years later is testament to just how good it is.

The pair met in the early 1990s, originally introduced because they had the same name (Samuel Clark and Samantha Clarke). Sam(antha) found her way into the kitchen after studying languages, while Sam(uel) had already been at The River Cafe for a few years. They both eventually found themselves in the kitchen at The Eagle in Farringdon, which is cited as the first ever gastropub, before Sam(antha) continued on at The River Cafe, which was the first place to really champion seasonality and the importance of ingredients.

That focus on seasonality and the ‘simple things done well’ mentality that runs throughout much of Italy’s cuisine had a huge impact on the duo. They wanted to open their own place, but knew it was pointless just trying to recreate what The River Cafe was already doing. So, newly married, they set off in an old campervan with cookbooks by Claudia Roden and Paula Wolfert on the dashboard, and set out in search of inspiration.

‘We spent three months driving through Spain and Morocco with a list of ingredients we wanted to find,’ says Sam(uel). ‘We were just absorbing the flavours, the markets and the countries we visited. We came back with a car full of things nobody in London had really come across before – argan oil, bottarga, preserved lemons, pomegranate molasses – but more importantly a newfound love for the type of cooking we encountered.’

These days, pomegranate molasses, ras el-hanout and preserved lemons are on the shelves of supermarkets across the UK – but they were all but unheard of in the 1990s. Sam and Sam knew they had something unique to offer London’s food scene. Now they just had to open a restaurant so they could serve it. The pair settled on a site in Exmouth Market. Today, the street they’re on is a bustling hub of incredible food and drink. Back then, it was an all-but-derelict road of empty shopfronts. ‘I think people thought we were a bit mad,’ says Sam(antha). ‘We were trying to open a restaurant in an odd location with a menu that was hard to define and explain. But we hoped we’d at least do OK for lunch service because The Guardian newspaper had its offices nearby.’

Moro opened in 1997 and, much to the duo’s surprise, was a smash hit. Dinner bookings outnumbered lunches; Moro was named Best New Restaurant by both Time Out and BBC Good Food, and Moro was quickly being cited in the same breath as its predecessors The Eagle and The River Cafe, each of them helping to shape the city’s food scene as a whole.

For a restaurant to remain relevant (and open!) for five years is a huge achievement. For one to still be beloved and buzzing after 30 is something only a handful manage to achieve. Moro is one of them. Rather than focusing solely on their greatest hits and signature dishes, Sam and Sam play around with the menu all the time – reflecting the seasons and what inspires them. ‘We cook very much by eye and by our senses,’ says Sam(uel). There’ll always be dishes we’ve never done before alongside old favourites. We might go to somewhere like Japan, then suddenly start thinking about texture totally differently. There are always things you can improve.’

Over those years, Sam and Sam opened Morito next door in 2010 – a smaller, more informal tapas bar – alongside another Morito in Hackney six years later, although that closed in 2026. Moro remains the jewel in the crown, however, and while the flavours of Spain, North Africa and the Med may not be the curious unknowns they were when the restaurant first opened, the food Sam and Sam continue to serve is still a masterclass in subtle spicing, balanced flavours and impeccable technique.

‘You can never be complacent; you’ve always got to keep adapting,’ says Sam(antha). ‘When we opened Moro we never wanted it to be a flash-in-the-pan restaurant. We wanted to create somewhere we’d be happy spending the rest of our lives.’ Perhaps that’s the reason Moro still stands strong today – for Sam and Sam, it’s a home as much as it is a business.