On first hearing that Hawksmoor was taking over the restaurant space at the St Pancras Hotel, I was living in Cambridgeshire, and St Pancras was my London terminal. It came with an unhappy knack of having my homebound trains cancelled at very short notice.
With no disrespect to Gothic Bar – its previous inhabitant and a fine venue – learning that I’d be able to slip into a Hawksmoor bar to wait out a train delay at 11pm very much softened the blow of 45 minutes of dead time. In fact, it turned them into something joyous. I did this twice in the space of a month, sat at the bar, and both times got talking to a friendly American tourist staying at the hotel, ordered a classic cocktail (a 50-50 Sazerac, if you’re asking) and exchanged small talk. The first one paid for my drink.
That is to say, the modern version of the iconic British restaurant group seems to understand a kind of British-American hospitality – that where Britishness is central to its food offering, but where an American-style cocktail bar is done so well (possibly guided by its New York outpost) that it provides as perfect an introduction to dinner as to be non-negotiable, as well as a refuge for weary travellers later in the evening.
That’s how I kicked off dinner at Hawksmoor St Pancras when I finally got around to eating there. I’d moved to Sussex by then, and came into town to meet a long-time friend and legendary dinner companion Neil Davey.
We began proceedings with the Ultimate Martini from the list, and then I had a Martinez. The blood was flowing, steak in the offing. Starters included cold oysters – one set undressed, one adorned in a Vietnamese-inspired dressing – as well as Basque-style gildas (anchovies, olives and pickled chillies). No dead time here.
The Ultimate Martini
Mike Gibson
Starters at Hawksmoor St Pancras
Mike Gibson
The bar setup is similar to its predecessor – a gorgeous counter to the right as you enter, the rest of the room made up of low loungey tables and plush chairs. The main dining room, however, is emphatic: as you enter through the doorway, it lifts up and away, with enormous vaulted ceilings but a close dining room that blends comfort and scale effortlessly.
The recently launched Longhorn Feast is what was in store. Launched to celebrate the group’s 20th anniversary, it’s put on a pedestal as the first breed it ever served. British (obviously) and known for exceptional marbling, the Hawksmoor version makes a classic steak, served alongside judiciously roasted bone marrow.
We opted for Porterhouse, with a side of Tunworth mash (mash, with a hunk of Tunworth in it, if you’re asking) and an elegant Caesar salad, for health reasons. An opulent De Loach chardonnay from California provided American bombast; for mains, one of the group’s own-label wines produced by Hartenberg in Stellenbosch – generally a great shout for value – was a great foil for the Longhorn.
It’s no exaggeration to say that when a new Hawksmoor restaurant opens, the highest compliment you can pay it is that it feels like Hawksmoor. The food is on point; the staff are excellent. Across two decades, the group has not just maintained standards as it’s grown (either side of the Atlantic), but aimed higher. Menus are relatively similar at all of its UK restaurants; you’re not going to find a menu of items you’ve never tried.
But its skill is in gentle and constant refining of its offering and of bringing those high standards to new (and frequently beautiful) venues. If you’re looking for a steak dinner that feels accessible but with a special-occasion vibe and unquestionable consistency, there’s few that can match it.
And take it from me, if you come out of the Tube at King’s Cross St Pancras and find out your train’s been cancelled, duck into this jewel of a restaurant, sit at the bar, and use the Delay Repay money for a cocktail. Just remember not to miss your next one.
See more at thehawksmoor.com
