Posts tagged “steak

Blacklock – Great Windmill Street

Posted on February 18, 2015

You’ve got to hand it to Gordon Ker. He’s hard at work painting the frontage of his new restaurant on Saturday lunchtime when the rest of Soho seems to be celebrating. Not only is it half term, it’s the turn of the Chinese New Year and central is manic. But tucked down Great Windmill Street, Ker is quietly putting the finishing touches to his new baby having transformed an illegal strip club renowned for it’s dodgy dealings and exorbitant rates into a neat little basement restaurant offering chops and cocktails at refreshingly low prices. It’s a good job he’s outside. Apart from a temporary painted sign, it’s undistinguishable as a restaurant and we nearly walk right past it. He reassures us that they are…

The Grill at The Dorchester – Park Lane

Posted on November 20, 2014

 Bob Baker – C&C Guest Review of the Month  Gone are the days of the glamour, the refinement, the elegant clientele. The wealth remains, but the class has long since dissipated. The Coupe de Champagne struggled to justify itself against the backdrop of barking Australasians and a carpet littered with ghastly ‘wheelie bags’-the unnecessarily oversized briefcase of the modern era. ‘C’ and I had arrived a little early, a consequence of our giddy excitement for the opening night of the Dorchester’s new Grill room, and found ourselves grumbling over the drunken hoards like a pair of old farts, whilst labouring to enjoy the crisp mousse of a Laurent Perrier. From afar, we looked upon the Grill’s ornate entrance as the staff organised themselves with the…

Flat Iron – Beak Street

Posted on November 9, 2014

When a restaurant chooses to serve one dish it’s got to be good. When that thing is steak I wonder what’s the point. I get it, every now and again people need a hunk of red meat. What better way to reassert man’s position at the top of the food chain than by tucking into an animal that is weaker than themselves. For blokes, there is nothing more manly than chewing on a thick piece of rump, wine-stained teeth bared, with bloody juices running into their beards whilst banging sharp serrated blades on rugged chopping boards. And when this steak craving arrives, and it will, (but no more than once every couple of months) you go big. You find a Hawksmoor, a Goodmans or…