
Words by Elliot Baker · Published on 10 Oct 2025
Growing up, I’d look through Philip Johnson’s cookbooks, dreaming of dining at E’cco one day. In year seven, my parents promised me a meal there if I managed to get an A in maths. I did – somehow – and still remember it well: the red walls (pre-renovation), the prawn and saffron risotto, and meeting Johnson for the first time.
When I told him I wanted to cook his Trio of Chocolate dessert from Eating In , he invited me into the kitchen to learn it firsthand. I took him up on that offer, and it was an experience that kickstarted a lifelong passion for food. Over the next few years, I often returned to E’cco for work experience during my school holidays.
I’m not the only person who looked up to Johnson. Over the last 30 years of E’cco, he’s inspired a generation of chefs, including Nicholas Hill ( Porcine ), Peter “PJ” McMillan (Harveys Bar and Bistro) and Paul McGivern ( La Lune Wine ). Hill remembers taking a date to E’cco when he was 18. They sat by the door and had a memorable meal. After completing his apprenticeship at Bathers’ Pavillion in Sydney, he joined E’cco when he was 21.
“It was Valentines Day, and my main course was a big piece of steak with a slice of foie gras on top, some green beans and a cognac sauce with duck fat in it,” he remembers. “It was amazing – one of those eternally delicious things.”

Elliot Baker at E'cco in 2010. Photo: Courtesy of Elliot Baker
When E’cco first opened in Brisbane’s CBD on August 1, 1995, the city’s dining culture was evolving in the wake of Expo ’88. “We finally learned it was okay to eat out other days apart from Friday and Saturday,” Johnson laughs.
But while many restaurants at the time were doing too much, E’cco paired things back. Drawing on his experience in London, Johnson introduced a new kind of dining: butchers’ aprons for staff attire, no tablecloths, and food that spoke for itself.
“We wanted to make a neighbourhood bistro where people were just as comfortable to sit at the bar and have mushrooms on toast as they would be having a three-course menu – and they weren’t judged any differently,” he says. “Because back in the late ’80s and ’90s, it was a serious thing to go out for dinner.”
Two years in, E’cco was winning awards. Six cookbooks followed, cementing Johnson – and E’cco – as household names. Since relocating to Newstead in 2018, the bistro has continued to evolve while staying true to its roots. Step inside today and you’ll likely still find Johnson behind the pass, head down, working away.
This oral history traces E’cco journey, from its humble beginnings in the CBD to becoming a Brisbane institution. This is the story, as told by past and present staff, longtime regulars and Johnson himself.

Photo: Courtesy of E'cco
In 1992, architect Robert Riddel was searching for a city building to live in when he stumbled across the Inglis Tea Merchants warehouse. He bought it and leased a ground-floor space to Johnson. Originally a 60-seater, the restaurant later expanded next door to seat 85.
Philip Johnson: I’d had a restaurant in New Farm called Le Bronx from 1988 to 1993 and was about to head back to England. Someone said, “Have you seen that Robert Riddel has bought that building on the corner of Adelaide and Boundary Streets? He’d probably like a restaurant.” We went and spoke to him, and he said, “Yes.” Being an architect, he helped a lot. The power was no good and the plumbing was no good, but he knew how to do all that, which was a good advantage. We set the whole restaurant up for $120,000, which seems cheap today.
Robert Riddel: We did it on a shoestring budget, but that was the essence of using old warehouse buildings. We left much of it as it was, but had to spend money on the plumbing, and we shared the cost of the kitchen equipment. We made it happen.
Johnson: Some people were saying it was a weird part of town. Both Russell Armstrong and Gillian Hirst rang me asking, “Have you signed on that? It’s the worst position.” And I said, “Well, it’s too late.”
Paul McGivern (former apprentice chef at E’cco, now co-owner of La Lune Wine Co): Phil was overseas and wrote to me, asking me to go to this place on the corner of Boundary and Adelaide Streets. I went there and thought, “This is the worst location I’ve ever seen in my life.” It was a shitty warehouse on the corner. But he was the boss, so I went with the flow.

Photo: Morgan Roberts
E’cco opened with a small kitchen team of four, including head chef PJ McMillan and McGivern. Thanks to Johnson’s reputation from Le Bronx, the restaurant hit the ground running.
McGivern: We were busy from day one. Every lunch was 50 to 60 people, and we’d do two sittings every night. It was a tiny space, so it was like lambs to the slaughter every night. We’d clean down at 10.30pm, then spend two hours prepping for lunch the next day. Phil didn’t push us – we wanted to do it because we could all sense it was something amazing.
Peter “PJ” McMillan (former head chef at E’cco, now owner of Harveys Bar and Bistro): It was a really interesting time in Brisbane’s food scene. We had this fresh approach, trying different things and really breaking away from fine dining. It was an amazing time because we were doing what we wanted to do. You could feel the slingshot being pulled back and letting go.
Stephen Winter (long-time regular): Back then, food [in Brisbane] was completely different. Prawn cocktail was on many menus and fanning an avocado on the plate was this high-end culinary skill. Phil brought a completely different way of looking at food and presenting it.

Philip Johnson at E'cco. Photo: Courtesy of E'cco
Not long after opening, Johnson and McMillan picked up a copy of The River Cafe Cookbook . Within 10 days, Johnson was on a plane to London for a stage (unpaid internship) at the restaurant. He came back inspired, made changes at E’cco – and soon after, the restaurant won the Gourmet Traveller Restaurant of the Year Award.
Johnson: We were invited to Sydney for the awards. I remember wondering if it was worth going – we were from Queensland, we’d just be making up the numbers. From there, things took off. It was full on a Tuesday for weeks, and weekends were booked for months. There were no internet bookings, just phone calls. We had to put an extra phone line in. We also had a fax machine in the kitchen, and the morning after the award, we had six feet of paper, full of bookings and congratulations.
McMillan: I remember Phil phoning me up after we had won. I must have done laps around the bench in disbelief that this little Brisbane restaurant had won this prestigious Australian award. I feel that E’cco really started a whole new direction for Brisbane.
Winter: It was huge. I think it created a few ripples around Australia. People expected Neil Perry and all those other established chefs in Sydney and Melbourne to win. It really propelled Phil to the top.
McGivern: Back then, you had two food publications run the whole country, and they decided if you survived or died. The impact of the award was massive, like it was overwhelming. I went from going through ten kilos of mussels a day to twenty kilos a day.

Elliot Baker's copy of Eating In at his childhood home. Photo: Savannah van der Niet
A cookbook was the next natural step. Mondays at E’cco became recipe testing days. The team would cook, document and photograph dishes. From there, though, they needed to find a publisher.
McMillan: We were all writing and trialling recipes. There’s a real difference between cooking intuitively and documenting them properly. Even today [at Harveys], we write down every recipe and test everything for consistency.
Johnson: I went to Sydney for a guest chef appearance and had a meeting with Random House. I showed them our recipes and photos. They said, “Yeah. we’ll do it.” Within 10 weeks, we’d sold 10,000 copies. In Australia at the time, a success for that sort of book was considered 5,000. We got up to 25,000. It worked out the way I hoped – at every bookstore I went to around Australia, the book was on the shelf.
McGivern: Whenever I do a function at people’s homes, there’s always a Philip Johnson cookbook in the kitchen – and they’re well used. Back in the day, he was probably selling more books than any other chef in Australia.
Johnson: If you pick them up now, some dishes have aged a bit, but they’ve held up. They still feel contemporary, which I’m proud of.

E'cco Newstead. Photo: Savannah van der Niet
It was major news when Johnson relocated E’cco to the Haven complex at Newstead in 2018. The space was more modern, but the philosophy stayed the same.
Johnson: Rob eventually sold the building, and we couldn’t agree terms with the new landlord. John James [from Haven Newstead] came to me and said, “Here’s a good rent deal and a contribution to the fit-out.” We were arguing with someone, while someone else was giving us the world.
Mary Randles (Johnson’s wife, who runs front of house): There was no parking in the city, but there was in Newstead. The clientele did change a bit – there was less of the original business crowd. We did less lunch services too, which eliminated a lot of the business crowd automatically. We do get a lot of businesspeople on Fridays still.
Mia McIntyre (former manager at E’cco): When we closed, we had all the regulars come in and share their memories and all their favourite dishes. When we reopened, it was a flight of all those people again, because they wanted to see what the new space was like – and whether the heart of E’cco followed through.

Photo: Courtesy of E'cco
“If the fish is right, the beurre blanc is made properly and the sorrel is real sorrel – which is hard to get – you don’t need anything else [on the plate],” Johnson says. That philosophy defines E’cco.
Winter: I always had the mushrooms on toast, because I love mushrooms. That would always be my choice of entree. Occasionally it was the gnocchi, but that was more in the cooler months as it was a heavier dish. I also used to love the warm salads, which Phil did when he first came back from overseas. You’d eat it and it was like, “Wow, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Riddel: The dish I remember most includes the seared scallops with carrot puree and the risotto with green peas.
McIntyre: Mushrooms on toast, which is obviously one of Phil’s staples. And I think there were always wonderful quail dishes. It’s such a delicate protein, and it was always harmonious in whatever dish it was.
Nicolas Hill (former sous-chef at E’cco, now co-owner of Porcine in Sydney): We occasionally cook the mushrooms on toast for staff breakfast at the restaurant. I spent a lot of time learning it, so it’s an important thing to teach other people.

Photo: Morgan Roberts
Whenever you dine at E’cco it feels like being welcomed into a home – Phil’s home.
Randles: There has always been a family feel to the business. We have a lot of repeat customers, so it’s always personable service-wise. Because it’s our business, being able to greet and chat to customers is very important. We’re still very hands-on.
McIntyre: It was about warmth and being welcoming. We wanted to be sharp and efficient, but without losing the heart and soul of what hospitality is.

Photo: Morgan Roberts
Thirty years on, Philip Johnson’s legacy endures through his staff – former and present – customers and his cookbooks.
Johnson: My conviction is we don’t take shortcuts. If something’s not right, we don’t go with it. I’d rather lose money than serve something that doesn’t measure up. It’s so lazy to go with something if you’re not convinced.
McMillan: A lot of the stuff Phil and I did in the early years – good stock, the right rice and great parmesan for risotto – still holds true. It’s about respecting fundamentals but looking at them with a fresh set of eyes. We used to say, “You can’t change the wheel, but you can put a new tread on it.”
McIntyre: What I always loved – and often think about now – is the simplicity and execution of the menu. E’cco and Phil’s cooking is simple and delicious, it’s not trying to be anything fancy.
Johnson: When people come to work with me, it feels like I’m creating a whole lot of snobs who only use the best olive oil, the best salt and the best vinegar. The most rewarding thing is when people come to work for me, they come green, and they leave with a spring in their step.
Winter: Phil ignited the food scene and brought Europe to Brisbane. There are also the chefs that worked at E’cco that have gone on to do their own thing – I think that’s one of Phil’s proudest legacies.
About the author
Elliot Baker is a Brisbane-based freelance writer. He's been contributing to Broadsheet since 2016.
Related Content