Rowley's London

In a city where restaurants open and close faster than you can say ‘concept-led omakase counter,’ Rowley’s remains a comforting constant. Established in 1976, it’s an old-school steakhouse, serving a selection of dry aged cuts on tabletop warming stands and topped with generous scoops of Rowley’s Roquefort butter.

Inside, it’s a kind of Versailles-in-miniature: mirrored walls bounce golden light around coffered ceilings, reflecting off a wrap-around frieze of painted tiles. It’s grand, and gloriously unfashionable, but - as if preserved in amber - it gleams in its own nostalgic glow. As we peruse the sommelier's handwritten notebook, the couple a few tables away are busy reminiscing on more than 20 years visiting Rowleys together.

The menu pays due reverence to retro Franco-British familiars, starting with dill cured salmon gravadlax, which arrives ombre’d in beetroot mauves, sliced, fanned, and topped with a dill-strewn cucumber creme fraiche. It promises horseradish, and we lack that punch; still, it’s well-balanced and technically flawless. Likewise, a beef tartare lands with chopped cornichon, caper, and shallot, framing a bright, rich egg yolk.

Both are excellent, but steak is Rowley’s raison d'être. After a quick look (there are just four cuts to choose from), we’re recommended the Chateaubriand for two. The cooking lacks that crisp showman’s sear, but inside it’s rare, and the whole thing’s napped in its own beefy runoff. That liquor, now pooled with melting Roquefort butter, serves as a rich reservoir for fistfuls of fluffy golden fries.

Desserts offer the classics: a crisp-cracked creme brulee, and a sticky toffee pudding. We pair the latter with a velvety Irish coffee - sweet and boozy, with enough coffee to revive a full stomach.

Service is relaxed but keen-eyed, fries are replenished endlessly (just summon another bowl with a knowing look to your waiter), and as the soundtrack drifts from Ella Fitzgerald into neo-soul, it’s hard not to feel a little smug. Yes, London is alight with flashier names, but Rowley’s remains resolutely itself. And sometimes, in the great revolving door of London restaurants, that’s exactly what the doctor orders - though maybe with just one serving of fries.

Rowley’s has been sitting pretty on Jermyn Street since 1976, serving up a reliable roster of steaks, fries, and classic British cooking. It’s a quiet little spot, known as a favourite for Mayfair locals, work lunches, and tourists alike. It’s not hard to see why, inside, the interiors gleam in the sunshine, thanks to opulent tiled motifs, large mirrors and coffered painted ceilings. There’s an expensive feel about the restaurant, and whether it’s a long leisurely lunch or dinner with friends and family, it’s all very relaxing.

The menu at Rowley’s nods to the familiar classics, offering up prawn cocktail, chicken liver parfait with port jelly and brioche, and beef tartare alongside other retro options. Steak is the done thing at Rowley’s, and each one comes served on its own tabletop stove, laden with house Roquefort butter and accompanied by a bowl of fries. Those fries are unlimited by the way, so if you’re running low, just ask your server for a refill.

Cuts include classic entrecote, sirloin, fillet, plus a chateaubriand to share. That said, if you don’t fancy a steak, you can also expect perfectly cooked fish and chips, grilled seabass with salmon roe and samphire, or pan-roast chicken in a wild mushroom and garlic cream sauce.

For something sweet, desserts include a pistachio creme brulee, mixed berry pavlova and chocolate ganache with caramelised white chocolate. There’s also a sticky toffee pudding, and a selection of British cheeses served with crackers, membrillo and grapes. Alternatively, if you prefer to drink your dessert, you’ll also find a great Irish coffee and an Espresso Martini alongside classic digestifs.

Rowley’s also offers a pre-theatre set menu complete with the menu's best dishes and a glass of Rathfinny cuvée brut. Just don’t forget to ask for the sommelier’s notebook if you want to get your hands on a bottle of something special from the off-menu wine cellar.