First, they came to Shoreditch, before it was the trendy place to be, back in the wilds of 2006. Will Beckett and Huw Gott opened a small, daring restaurant that prided itself on doing three things phenomenally well; steak, chips and cocktails. Word got out, and it was a success. More soon followed all over London, in Covent Garden, Guildhall and Regent Street. All were enormous successes. The menu diversified into seafood, with the ever-impressive Mitch Tonks on hand to curate the parts of the feast that didn’t revolve around the consumption of cow. The cocktails became giddier and more impressive. Custom soared. And, in 2014, the cry went up, at long last. ‘Let’s open in West London!’
Yes, well-heeled denizens of Knightsbridge, Kensington and anyone who boasts an SW postcode, you have now been granted a Hawksmoor, and lo, it came to pass that it was good. At this point, Hawksmoor is occupying the sweet spot between a group of autonomous restaurants and a chain, with enough individuality to make a visit to each one a distinct experience but with a consistency of quality across the entire group to mean that you’re never going to be disappointed. Hiring excellent staff – virtually all of whom have worked at another Hawksmoor restaurant before – doesn’t hurt, nor does the slightly louche atmosphere, engendered in part by a cocktail bar that looks like a Don Draper fantasy, leading into the suitably decadent-looking restaurant.
Let’s face it, you’re going to Hawksmoor for the steak, and I’m happy to report that my guest for the evening, the sporting gentleman Rugby Jamie, and I demolished a 900g Porterhouse without much difficulty, breaking off occasionally to make happy and relieved sounds. The usual perfect triple-cooked chips, béarnaise sauce and bone marrow gravy were all present and correct as well. None of this comes cheap at £9 per 100g, and then extra for the various sides, but if there is a better way to spend £100 or so in a restaurant of this calibre, I’d be delighted to hear about it. There were other treats as well, including perfectly moreish ribs and fried oysters tartare to start, and a perfect passion fruit crème brulee for pudding, but it’s the divinely carnivorous delights that will get people flocking here.
It must also be said that an evening at Hawksmoor has, for some unfathomable reason, been connected in my mind with perhaps a glass too many taken. If the cocktails are all of the same standard as the exemplary ‘anti-fogmatic’, the marmalade cocktail (to be taken at any time of day, apparently) or the full fat old fashioned, a butter and bourbon-infused treat which can send anyone into a gluttonous reverie of delight. The wine list is comprehensive and reasonably priced – my only minor criticism of the operation is that the selection by the glass is slightly perfunctory. (I long for the day that every restaurant adopts the sensible attitude taken by Will Smith and Anthony Demetre’s establishments, whereby everything is available by the 250ml carafe as well as the bottle.) Yet if that’s the harshest thing I can say about this neo-Hawksmoor, then it is to its profound credit that it offers one of London’s most enjoyable experiences. And if it’s not the best of the group, it’s as near as dammit as makes no actual difference. Burghers of West London, rejoice – your time has come at last.
Hawksmoor Knightsbridge, 3 Yeoman’s Row, London SW3 2AL. Book Now.
