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Just a handful of years after dumping all of their tea, our relationship with the British is a bit less strained. We’ve significantly warmed to our British imports since then. Perhaps to the point of treason. Daniel Kaluuya? Absolutely. The Great British Bake Off? Haven’t picked up our Xanax prescription since.
Hawksmoor is another British import we’re fully embracing, and not just because we like its accent. This steakhouse has been a London institution for long enough (with enough locations) to have lost some of its intrigue on the other side of the Atlantic, but we say keep the sticky toffee pudding coming. Choose Hawksmoor when you’re in the mood to eat rich British food somewhere that isn’t a Disneyland recreation of an English pub with soggy fish and chips.
photo credit: Emily Schindler
The steaks here are unique in that they’re grilled over charcoal—and they're solid, but a bit inconsistent. We’ve had tough or barely seasoned cuts, as well as perfect filets neatly sliced in cast iron pans. But you're at a steakhouse, so get a steak. They do their best work with the filet mignon, and the rump steak is another reliable option if you don't want to spend too much.
Choose a steak to share with one other person, then find whatever sounds the most like it came out of Downton Abbey, and order that too. Potted beef might not seem like the pinnacle of fine dining, but the version at Hawksmoor gets its mojo from sitting with a healthy amount of fatty bacon. Slather it onto the Yorkshire puddings, perfectly crispy on the outside, then top everything off with onion gravy and try to coax the recipe out of the kitchen. A slab of Old Spot pork belly that you can cut like butter is also one of the best dishes here—smartly paired with a vinegary slaw to cut through the richness—and the lamb T-bones that come as an appetizer are lovely, fabulously seasoned hunks of meat. We wish they came with a real mint sauce, a British staple, but there's enough raw mint on top to suffice.
photo credit: Emily Schindler
Filling up on potted beef and pork belly might feel silly at a steakhouse, but you aren’t going to find those dishes at the same quality anywhere else in the city. You’re also not going to find a sexier environment to eat them in. Hawksmoor is all high ceilings, dark wood, and chic green leather. The ceilings say “You made partner,”’ but the lax dress code and lively bar ask “What’s this celebration really going to look like once you ditch your co-workers?” It’s a casual, playful room fitting for when you order the Atlas carrots and receive comically large and otherworldly orange beasts that look plucked out of an old fairytale.
New York will never fully be able to claim Hawksmoor as its own steak institution. Which is fine, because steak-wise, the British aren’t going to get the best of New York. (Can’t say the same about all those British actors stealing our roles.) But it’s worth being a turncoat for the night for a seat at the bar and that sticky toffee pudding.
Food Rundown
photo credit: Emily Schindler
Filet
photo credit: Emily Schindler
Elysian Fields Lamb T-bones
photo credit: Emily Schindler
Potted Beef & Bacon
Old Spot Pork Belly
photo credit: Emily Schindler
Beef Fat Fries
photo credit: Emily Schindler
Creamed Spinach
photo credit: Emily Schindler
Charcoal-Roasted Scallops
photo credit: Emily Schindler
Roasted Bone Marrow
Atlas Carrots
photo credit: Emily Schindler
Ultimate Martini
photo credit: Emily Schindler
Sticky Toffee Pudding