Farewelling an icon
The stories of Quay are expansive. Ranging from the anecdotal to the personal, from the kitchen to the dining table. A restaurant that resonated with the world. A chef as humble and brilliant as his food is precise and inspirational. A hospitality group connected to and supportive of the vision. A famed dessert. The time Vladimir Putin dined there.
Now, after serving diners since 1999, the peerless fine diner is readying for its last service.
“It’s mixed emotions,” executive chef Peter Gilmore tells Broadsheet. “It’s been just a little over 24-and-a-half years – a lot of memories, a lot of stuff’s happened here in this space. I feel very proud of what we’ve achieved but, you know, nothing ever lasts forever, of course.”
My own introduction to Quay was in my lounge room in Tumbi Umbi, on the Central Coast, on a Sunday night in July 2010. Gilmore and his Snow Egg were upping the stakes on the Masterchef season two finale. As the competing chefs (Adam Liaw and Callum Hann) battled it out, my teenage mind expanded. The cloud-like sphere of poached meringue, with its fine tuile shell and ice-cream yolk, actually felt like magic – this is what food could be? I was transfixed. It’s an experience that’s no doubt shared, in some way, across the country – the restaurant (and its dessert) catapulted to fame. The Quay website crashed the night the ep aired, and the restaurant was booked out for over a year.
This all took place in the era when chefs became household names.
“I think about all the young chefs who’ve come through the kitchen over the years,” Gilmore says. “We used to have around 30 chefs on a roster. The average stay at a fine-dining restaurant is about a year – 24 years, it’s a lot: 700, 800, who knows how many chefs have gone through the kitchens here.”
It’s in this mathematics that you see how Quay not only elevated Sydney’s hospitality scene, but shaped it. Alumni include Nik Hill, behind award-winning French bistro Porcine; Tassie-based Analiese Gregory, the esteemed chef, forager, author and TV presenter; Black Star Pastry founder Christopher Thé; and Darryl Martin, who’s now in the Bentley Group’s Watermans kitchen. Plus, Love, Tilly co-founder Matt Swieboda spent time as the sommelier.
For others, before Masterchef, Quay was already a shining beacon of fine Australian dining. The experience was, and is, singular. There’s the view, looking out over our icons (the harbour, bridge and Opera House). There’s the exceptional, polished hospitality. And then there’s Gilmore’s flawless set menu, with his signature precision, technique and flavour.
Here, just before Quay’s final service, top Sydney chefs and food writers share what the restaurant meant to them.
Quay was where I grew up in the kitchen, through some of my most formative years. Where I honed my craft, but also where I became an adult. Pete’s love for produce was a wonder, to walk through the growing room filled with sweet peas, past tanks filled with abalone and rock lobsters, the commitment to quality produce was intense and total. I remember it as an incredibly special time, when I was lucky enough to work for someone who genuinely did not care about your gender or race but only your passion and talent. I love that it existed and that I got to be part of the story.
It’s tempting to think that you can sense a chef’s personality in their food. I’m not sure that theory entirely checks out – I know plenty of delightful humans who make bog-awful food and, for that matter, massive dickheads who make excellent food. But in Peter Gilmore’s case, there’s something to it. Gilmore is one of the gentlest, most unassuming people in the Australian restaurant scene, but underneath it’s all acute, laser-beam brilliance. And that’s exactly how I think of the food at Quay.
Take my forever-favourite Quay dish, Sea Harvest, which often opened the menu in one form or another. On the surface it’s delicate, sweet seafood; abalone, perhaps. Pearl meat or octopus. But underpinning that there was always a race-car engine of umami (virgin soy, aged vinegar, kombu) that rumbled and revved: and you could imagine Pete’s powerhouse brain doing the same as he created it.
I wish we could protect and keep restaurants like Quay forever, but at least I know how much Pete has inspired chefs all over the country and the world. I hope we see his dual legacy live on forever: be a truly good person and make truly spectacular food.
Peter Gilmore is, without question, the defining Australian chef of his generation. Beyond the accolades, Peter is a wonderful man, a mentor to many, and one of the most humble and principled figures in our industry. For many Australians, Peter first became a familiar face during Masterchef’s early years. His jolly laugh and genuine love of food and restaurants were immediately apparent. What viewers may not have realised is that this was no performance. That calm curiosity and that generosity of spirit is exactly who he is.
The Snow Egg and the eight-texture chocolate cake will forever be part of Australian food folklore. But for me, Peter’s greatest strength was his ability to transform Australian produce, particularly seafood, into the most intense flavourful bites. From mud crab congee with heart of palm to Sea Pearls, everything was elevated. I can’t believe we have allowed this restaurant to close. Were Quay in Paris, it would be protected as a national treasure and Peter would already have an OAM.
Quay set the benchmark for Australian fine dining, with Peter consistently championing ingredients (and their producers) at the highest level whilst Fink [Group] embodied a gracious, heartfelt hospitality that made every experience unforgettable. Together they formed an incredible partnership where culinary vision and warm, thoughtful service created a dining room that resonated around the world. Its legacy is not only in the dishes it served, but in the people it trained and inspired, and the countless diners it delighted.
Quay not only shaped my career, but also helped shape who I am today. I applied for a position fresh out of my apprenticeship and never thought I’d even get a call back. Having the opportunity to learn from Peter Gilmore is something I never took lightly.
At Quay I was taught to understand produce, perfect technique, and push for the same consistency every single day. I was introduced to ingredients I’d never even heard of before and techniques that were so unusual and creative.
Quay’s food is iconic, especially the desserts. As a pastry chef, being part of the kitchen was incredibly inspiring. Peter Gilmore’s desserts are unique and highly technical, with so many components (my MEP list was never ending!). I feel so fortunate to have been at Quay during the era of the Snow Egg, the eight-textured chocolate cake, Chocolate Ethereal, White Coral, and Walnut & Oloroso – just to name a few.
Dining at Quay is a whole other experience. There are ten years between my first and most recent visit, each one just as memorable. I honestly wouldn’t be where I am today without Quay, and without the trust Peter Gilmore placed in me. Anyone who has worked or dined at Quay over the years will agree – it was truly a privilege to be part of it.
Quay has, in my entire lifetime, been such an iconic restaurant. As a 19-year-old, I came in for the first time when I assisted Tracey Deep install one of her magical pieces above the old bar – by far it was the fanciest restaurant I’d ever stepped foot in, and I vowed that one day I’d take my mum there for dinner when I could afford it.
It was a dream come true when Pete – a personal hero of mine – accosted me after we started Boon Luck Farm to ask whether we would be interested in growing food for him. I feel so fortunate to have been a small contributor to the magic of Quay.
A true legend of the industry! As a young chef I looked up to Peter, and I still do to this day. It’s always lovely seeing him at events and awards nights – he’s always giving up his time to say hello and make sure things are good. These are the things that I will remember Peter for. No matter the accolades, he was just as humble as he was in the beginning.
Pete is the king of modern Australian cuisine. The importance of texture really played a massive part in his cuisine, much like Asian cooking, and how he combined these textures and Asian flavours with modern European techniques was a stroke of genius. Even though I never worked under him, he was a huge inspiration in my early days as a chef.
A number of dishes come to mind over the years that had an impact on me:
• Pork belly with scallops and jellyfish
• Sea Pearls
• Lobster velvet
• Mud crab congee?
• Countless flavours of Snow Eggs – jackfruit and strawberry guava being my favourites!
He really is an OG in influencing the culinary landscape of Australia. Pete you will be missed!
Peter has been at the helm of Quay for as long as I’ve been cooking, which is absolutely insane, as I’m not really a spring chicken these days. Quay was always a mythical place. When I started working for Danny Russo, he would speak about Quay and how important it was to the dining landscape of Australia. Danny would tell me how honoured he was that some of his staff had gone to Quay to work with Pete in differing roles. One of those chefs was Alfie Spina, who worked as one of Pete’s sous chefs and then came back to work with Danny to open the Beresford Hotel. Working with Alfie (and Danny) was a formative experience in my career and, in some way, I felt like I got to experience some of that Quay magic – through Alfie passing on some of his experience and knowledge.
Pete has been someone that’s always taken the time to visit my restaurants, to stop and talk to me at events or awards nights. He’s such a genuine and kind person, and that he’s always had time for me is something I really appreciate and hold dear. (He probably has no idea how much it’s meant to me over the years.)
I’ve been lucky enough to eat at Quay several times over the years: the mastery of technique, the incredible produce and the inventive thinking have never waned. I’m nowhere near eloquent enough to do justice to Pete’s influence and meaning to hospitality in Australia – but we’ll never see anything else like it.
In 2011, an ex-Quay employee told me about the time Russian president Vladimir Putin dined at the restaurant – and how they had to chase Putin’s minders to settle the bill. (It was $17,000, which they paid entirely in cash.)
I remember once interviewing Peter Gilmore about his famous Snow Egg. When he announced he’d be retiring it from the menu, a woman informed the restaurant she’d fly from Melbourne with an esky, just to get a takeaway version. (Sadly, you can’t buy takeaway Snow Eggs – imagine the orders Quay would receive if this were possible!)
I also recall the moment I recognised his Organum volume among Carmy’s cookbook stacks on The Bear. He’s the only Australian chef to have two books in Carmy’s collection.
This is all confirmation that Quay cemented its legendary status during the chef’s two-decade-plus run there. It’s amazing to think of the many talented people (like Shanteh Wale, Analiese Gregory and Sander Nooij) who worked at Quay during his time. Gilmore also spent over 15 years collaborating with artists Jacqueline Clayton and Paul Davis – they made extraordinary tableware (like ceramic oyster shells) just for his dishes.
And a final note: his eight-texture chocolate cake was undeniably delicious.
It’s hard to comprehend Sydney’s dining scene without Quay and Peter Gilmore – a restaurant and chef with an unwavering dedication to excellence and culinary brilliance. Peter’s exceptional consistency and longevity are a testament to the inspiration the restaurant has provided to the industry. Their legacy will influence generations to come. Thank you, Peter Gilmore, for your extraordinary culinary contribution – and while your Snow Egg may no longer grace our plates, it won’t be forgotten.
Thanks Quay and Peter for inspiring so many people and for setting the bar so high. Thanks for championing local produce and showing everyone how good our backyard is. Thanks for showcasing Aussie food in a light that was new and refreshing.
Quay’s final service is Saturday February 14, 2026.
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