Parquet floors, like steaks, require meticulous care. My grandmother knew this very well, and as a boy I used to visit her every Saturday to gorge on steak and chips. Even at an early age, meat consumption was outlined as a decidedly manly virtue and I would sit alone while she glided around her small, boxy flat in Madrid with a cotton cloth under each foot, with every movement polishing her prized parquet floor. Unfortunately for me, my grandmother’s efficient attitude towards cleanliness was at the detriment to her cooking. In the interest of her kitchen being immaculate by the time any guests arrived, she would cook their food far in advance, letting my filete con patatas – or even worse, a fried egg – go painfully cold by the time it was eaten. Luckily, the new Hawksmoor on Air Street achieves the balance that eluded my grandmother. Not only does it house a splendid parquet floor, it also boasts the most polished and expertly prepared steaks I could ever hope to eat.
Everything about Hawksmoor’s new restaurant indicates an impressive confidence. Building on the success of their Shoreditch, Seven Dials, and Guildhall restaurants, Hawksmoor on Air Street sets out to do something different, declaring that “man cannot live on steak alone” and introducing seafood to its menu. It’s a bold statement for a restaurant that has made its name by unashamedly championing the cow, and yet it makes perfect sense. If Hawksmoor’s original commitment to steak was born from an impassioned belief that the British climate and pastures produce the best beef, their development says the same of Britain’s waters. As might be expected, the details are attended to expertly. Hawksmoor has teamed up with The Seahorse’s Mitch Tonks to produce a simple yet decadent restaurant that is set to become a true benchmark for eating out in London.
It seems appropriate that the vast arc in which the restaurant sits used to host a restaurant called Cocoon. There is something very protective about this Hawksmoor: it envelops its diners amid art deco mirrors, directing their attention inwards against the bright bustle of Piccadilly lights, which become colourful shapes through its imposing stained glass windows. Its dimmed lighting and emerald green booths give it the air of a Prohibition era speakeasy, and a well-hidden entrance ensures that much of the city stays outside. There is a certain arrogance to this discretion, which indicates that this is not a restaurant to stumble into on a hazy night in central London: Hawksmoor is a restaurant to be sought out, to be looked forward to, to be saved up for. Indeed, eating here is expensive, but at least you know your money will buy you something very, very good.
Once inside, a grandiose, elliptical marble staircase leads up to a cosy cocktail bar, which is a destination in itself. Its thoughtful menu divides cocktails by mood and in need of a refreshing pick-me-up, Shaky Pete’s Ginger Brew calls out to me. This golden blend of ginger, lemon, London Pride and gin is a fiery and irresistible seesaw of flavours, balancing bitter and sweet. Served in a robust tankard, it allows me to enjoy its icy, frothy, spicy pleasures whilst outwardly projecting an unreconstructed male image of myself.
We then move into the lively and expansive dining room through an antique brass screen. The main menu explores the real meaning of luxury, combining quality with comfort. To nibble, we order fried queenie scallops, crusted in a light batter and served with a thick and piquant tartare sauce. The scallops are dressed up perfectly for the cold weather, and their soft flesh immediately sharpens my appetite. We succumb to the temptation of half a Dartmouth lobster as well as the Brixham crab. The lobster is deliciously sweet, and we cover it in enough foaming butter to steam it through again. The crab is served on toast and smeared with mayonnaise, a simple embellishment, but the only one the richness of its meat really needs. The claw’s dark meat provides an earthy, pungent base that contrasts with, but does not intrude upon, the gentle flavour of the white. At this point my guest lets on that he went to the gym beforehand. The empty plates in front of me let on that I should look into joining one myself.
Somewhere inside, I know I should be ordering fish for a main, but such is Hawksmoor’s carnivorous draw that I struggle to pull my eyes away from the golden letters spelling STEAKS on the menu. All conflict disappears the moment two gargantuan slabs of meat, cooked rare – one red, one almost purplish – are presented in front of us on a heavy, black plate. I can hear the steaks sizzling before I am struck by the slightly angry smell of their char. The tender rib-eye has a magnificent crust and an evenly rosy interior, and the meat’s own deep, salty fat is brought to the fore when I spoon a silky anchovy hollandaise over it. The porterhouse, too, is breathtaking. Its flavour is more understated yet robust, with an intense mineral quality and range of texture: crispy at the edges, tender at the bone. I slide the viscous marrow out of an imposing bone onto my steak and notice myself doing so in the mirrors. I wonder if anyone else is experiencing him or herself experiencing their meal. I look like a very happy eater.
The supporting cast is as impressive. The triple-cooked chips are the kind that I wouldn’t usually be able to stop eating, but somehow my affections are stolen by Jansson’s Temptation. The thinly sliced potatoes in this traditional Swedish gratin are slowly infused with salted fish and cream, releasing an intoxicating fragrance when I shatter the crisp off its browned edges. This dish has the ability to become a favourite on first meeting. We finish with the peanut butter shortbread with salted caramel ice-cream, an elegant parcel whose chewy interior is softened by the ice-cream’s sweet and salty medley. I try to remind myself to take it easy. It’s no use. Dessert is as memorably good as the rest of the courses.
On leaving, it strikes me that Hawksmoor has achieved something extraordinary: to build a new restaurant that feels like it has been here forever. Hawksmoor Air Street already feels classic and provides a singular experience worth having. Anyone who loves food – and flooring – should heed this unmatchable tutorial in the art of feasting.
