Two earlier impromptu visits to this new(ish) East Ender, had found it impossible to find a table. Still, the wasted trips proved the place to be popular: sufficient incentive to plod back one last time down the grungy highway, north of Spitalfields Market. On a rainy Tuesday night, the place was impressively lively, but at last! a table could be found. And charmingly too: the efficient and engaging service here is a real strength.
Having gained entrance, the plain room really has only one main feature: a hugely well-stocked bar, set against an exposed brick wall. It’s enough though to infect what potentially might be a featureless space with a convivial buzz.
The real point of the menu here is meat (though alternatives are available): all of it sourced from trendy butcher du jour, Ginger Pig. More particularly, steak is the big deal. It’s available in various cuts, but seemingly invariably in Flintstone-esque portions.
We actually thought that the triple-cooked chips (10/10!) were the stars of the meal. But that’s not to do down the meat itself, which was done to a turn as ordered (rare), juicy and well-seasoned. And the excellent pots of béarnaise, home-made tomato and pepper sauces served with it would be hard to beat as an accompaniment. The one quibble: one of the cuts was a tad chewy in parts.
Having avoided starters to leave space for the Main Event, and having largely run out of stamina thereafter, we managed a yummy (and sensibly modestly-sized) tarte tatin for the finale.
Truly decent steak-houses are still a surprisingly rare find in London. At least we got to this one in the end.
