12 February 2015
For Mr B's review (rather than Mrs, below), check out our blog:
Mr B and I were very excited to introduce some close friends of ours - Mr & Mrs K- to the delights of Monday Night at Hawksmoor Knightsbridge.
Exceedingly cleverly, the restaurant hosts a ‘bring your own bottle’ Knight...sorry night...every Monday, and we found ourselves merrily tramping along, with our own (carefully chosen) bottle of Muga Rioja ‘Seleccion Especial’ 2010 (I like to think I thrilled Mr B with my sultry pronunciation. His quizzical, slightly concerned expression, though, possibly indicated otherwise).
Mr and Mrs K raised the bar further by offering up their own bottle of 2008 Chateau Cantermerle Haut-Medoc, which we opened and proceeded to rhapsodise over, partly because it was an unbelievably silken edged bottle of prime Bordeaux, and partly because we couldn’t contain our glee at the mark-up we were saving (fyi most restaurants at least double or triple the cost price of a bottle). Either way, satisfied with our wine choice, we then turned to the menu.
For those who haven’t come across the Hawksmoor restaurants (of which there are 5 in London), their modus operandi is very simple - an emphasis on expertly grilled beef (though Knightsbridge also offers a host of fish options, all simply prepared).
The first time we visited the restaurant, our waiter was so enthusiastic in his response to Mr B’s question about the various cuts, that he virtually pulled up a chair and joined us at the table for an hour. Thank goodness the steak lived up to expectations.
With Mr and Mrs K, we were no less impressed when a 1.2kg hunk of rib eye, and chargrilled tranche of monkfish, pulled up at the table. Both beautifully cooked, our slight quibble was that we had asked for the steak medium-rare, rather than medium-well.
Re the side orders, our choices of chips (widely praised), baked sweet potato, spinach, and two salads, also went down well (though I would suggest the restaurant considers at least doubling the size of its side salads, as at £4 pop, a teacup’s worth appears rather stingy). It also, I regret to say, really bothers me to be charged for bread (£2- maybe I’ll BYO loaf next time).
That said, rarely have I seen four such happy campers picking over the remains of a femur-sized bone. Cheap it ain’t, but I defy anyone to point me in the direction of a more expertly cooked steak.