Three mayors. Two pandemics. One Brexit. Four post offices. Fifteen years on the same stretch of Camden High Street, watching the road change around us. We took the keys to number 40 in November 2011, when the building was still leaking from the previous tenant's cellar, and we've been here every night since. This is what changed, what didn't, and what we're keeping for the anniversary in November.
The building before us
Number 40 wasn't always a Mexican restaurant. It wasn't always a restaurant.
The earliest record we have — from a planning application in the council archives — puts a Greek-Cypriot café here in 1962, run by a family from Larnaca who served kleftiko, moussaka and demitasse coffee to the post-war Camden crowd. The café closed in 1981 and the building became a launderette: rows of front-loaders, a coin slot in a metal box on the wall, the smell of detergent that you couldn't entirely get out of the brickwork. The launderette closed in 2000.
From 2000 to 2011, the building was a struggling pub. Three different operators in eleven years; none made it work. The last one closed mid-pandemic-rumour in October 2011, and the keys came up. Our rent in 2012 was lower than the pub's had been in 2010, which tells you something about what Camden was doing at the time.
Opening night, November 2011
The first service was rougher than the photographs suggest.
We had fifteen covers booked, four members of staff, and one mariachi band who'd agreed to play the opening night for free in exchange for dinner. The dishware shipment from Mexico hadn't cleared customs. The hand-painted plates we'd ordered from a workshop in Puebla were sitting in a Heathrow warehouse waiting for paperwork that would arrive a week later. So we served mole, fajitas and the first round of margaritas on disposable paper plates, and nobody complained loudly enough to leave.
The other thing that went wrong: we ran out of tequila at eleven PM. The kitchen had ordered twelve bottles for a soft opening that was supposed to do thirty covers; the room finished up at sixty by the end of the night. Someone ran to the off-licence on Kentish Town Road at half past ten, came back with three bottles of Olmeca and a sheepish look, and we made it to closing.
The mariachi band came back the next Saturday for actual money, and they've been our Saturday-night residents ever since.
What changed on the High Street
Camden in 2011 was a different street. The Stables were still finding their feet after the fire. The Lock was less crowded on a Tuesday. There were more independent shops and fewer chains. The post office on Plender Street — the one that's now a Pret — was still a post office.
The big shifts, in rough order:
The 2012 Olympics. Brought a wave of attention to Camden as one of the "authentic London neighbourhoods" foreign visitors should see. We were on every "best of Camden" list within six months. It also brought the first wave of corporate landlords buying up the small lets — a pattern that has accelerated every year since.
The 2017 Camden Lock fire. Lost the canalside market for most of a year. The High Street took the overflow — busier, more chaotic, more international tourist than it had been. Some of those visitors came in for tacos. Most kept walking.
2019 — the year before the rest changed. Our best year. Bookings two weeks out, every Friday and Saturday, weekday tourism strong. The kitchen had its rhythm. Then March 2020 happened.
Pandemic year one. Closed in March 2020, reopened with takeaway in July, indoor service in September, closed again in November. We spent the year designing a delivery menu, learning what travels (the fajitas don't, the burritos do) and what doesn't, and writing — for the first time in our history — a hardship letter to the landlord.
Pandemic year two and three. The slow return. Outdoor service first, then indoor, then back to a strange new normal where Friday and Saturday were busier than ever and Wednesday was the new dead night.
Brexit. Ingredient supply chains tightened. The cinnamon, the dried chillies, the Mexican chocolate — nothing that comes from Mexico became impossible to get, but everything became 30% slower and 20% more expensive. We absorbed most of it. The menu prices went up an average of £2 per dish in 2022 and have held since.
What didn't change
The recipe for the mole has been the same since opening. So has the chicken fajita marinade — overnight, in lime, garlic, smoked paprika, dried chillies. The albóndigas sauce has had two minor adjustments (less sugar, more chipotle) but is otherwise the same. The house margarita ratio (50/25/20/10) hasn't moved.
The mariachi band has had three personnel changes. The Saturday-night format hasn't.
The mural in the back room — Frida Kahlo against a Camden-night background — has been there since 2013. It was painted by a Camden-local artist who'd grown up in Mexico City and now lives in Stoke Newington. We've turned down two offers to paint over it for sponsored installations. We're keeping it. We've also written separately about the threads connecting La Casa Azul to our walls — the colour scheme, the dishes, the cooking we draw from her kitchen rather than her studio.
The food has held its line too. The mole poblano recipe is unchanged from opening night. So is the chicken fajita marinade, the albóndigas sauce, and the house margarita ratio. Camden Town as a neighbourhood has changed considerably in fifteen years; the Frida menu has not.
"Camden is one of the most generous neighbourhoods in London for small restaurants. Fifteen years in, the loyalty here has surprised us most."
The regulars
The thing that took longest to develop, and that matters most, is the regular crowd. We have customers who came in their twenties, single, in 2012, and who now bring their school-aged kids on Sunday afternoons. We have a table that's been booked every other Friday by the same group of four since 2014 — they've gone from junior consultants to senior partners and they still order the same shared starter.
There's a couple from north London who came on their first date in 2013, got engaged at the same table in 2015, and held their wedding rehearsal dinner with us in 2016. They now bring two children, the elder of whom orders chilaquiles for breakfast every weekend.
One of our most loyal regulars — a retired shopkeeper from the Greek café family who ran number 40 in the 1970s — has been coming once a month for ten years. She doesn't drink the margaritas (or eat the mole), but she always orders the chicken fajitas, and she always tells the staff a story about the building. We listen.
The November anniversary
Fifteen years to the week, in November 2026, we're holding a small anniversary night. Not a press event, not a sponsored thing, not a discount-the-menu promotion. Regulars, suppliers, current and former staff, and the artist who painted the mural. One mariachi band, the Saturday-night residents who've been with us almost as long as the building.
If you've been a regular for over five years and we don't have your contact, send us a message — we'd like you on the list. If you've never been before, the November weekend evenings are exactly the wrong nights to walk in. Book the Sunday afternoon, the room will still be celebratory and the kitchen will be calmer.
What's next for the building
The honest answer, fifteen years in: we don't know. The lease has another seven years on it. The building is still ours to lease. The neighbourhood is changing again — corporate restaurants moving onto the High Street, independent operators retreating to side streets — and we're not sure what side of that pattern we'll be on when the lease comes up in 2033.
The thing we know is that we're here now, the kitchen is the same, the recipes are the same, and the mariachi plays at nine PM on Saturdays. That's mostly what we promised in 2011 and mostly what we've been able to keep. It's not nothing.
Frequently asked questions
When did Frida Camden open?
November 2011. We took the keys to 40 Camden High Street in October that year, after the previous tenant — a struggling pub — had closed. Our first night opened with fifteen covers booked, four staff, and one mariachi band playing for free in exchange for dinner. We've been at the same address every night since.
What was the building before Frida Camden?
Most recently, a struggling pub (2000–2011) that went through three operators in eleven years. Before that, a launderette (1981–2000). The earliest documented use we've found is a Greek-Cypriot café (1962–1981), run by a family from Larnaca. The building has been on this stretch of Camden High Street since at least the 1930s; we suspect earlier, but the council records are patchy.
Has the menu changed much over fifteen years?
The core hasn't. The mole recipe, the fajita marinade, the house margarita ratio and the albóndigas all date from opening night. We've added vegetarian and vegan options progressively (around 2015 onwards), introduced a brunch menu in 2017, and refined the cocktail list every year. The most-ordered dish (the chicken fajitas) has been the most-ordered dish since 2011.
Are you still independent?
Yes. Frida Camden is owned by the same family who opened it in 2011. We've turned down acquisition offers from two restaurant groups, the most recent of which was 2023. The building is leased, not owned; the lease runs to 2033.
How can I be invited to the November anniversary?
If you've been a regular for over five years, drop us a line through our contact form with your name and how long you've been coming, and we'll add you to the list. If you're a recent arrival, the best time to come during the anniversary week is Sunday afternoon — the room will still be celebratory and we'll have space.
Save your table
Frida Camden, 40 Camden High Street, London NW1 0JH. Between Mornington Crescent and Camden Town tube. Open Sun–Thu 10:30–22:00 (last food orders 21:30), Fri–Sat 10:00–23:00 (last food orders 22:30). Mariachi every Saturday from 9pm. Book a table online or call us on +44 207 383 3733.
