What happens at Steak Club, stays at Steak Club - Dec 2010

Where: The Hawksmoor, Spitalfields
With who: 12 good Steaks and true...
How much: £50 set menu, covering starters, skillets of steak, sides to share and half a bottle of a very acceptable house wine each.
Come here: to worship at a temple of meat
When I mooted the idea of a Steak Club to Nicco Polo, Mrs Jones and others, there was no question it would be an enormous screaming success. Not due to the grand organisational skills of yours truly in any way, more down to the fact that most of my friends are slathering, semi-obsessive carnivores too... There was little discussion where the first meeting would be, and a month after inception 12 of us were sitting down in the atmospheric (if slightly gloomy, hence the lack of photos) backroom of one of my favourite restaurants in London, Hawksmoor Spitalfields. It's a seriously macho restaurant, I'm sure you can picture it if you haven't been, bare brick walls with a butchers tile motif, functional and solid dark wood furniture and a large, well stocked bar in the centre of the room. It's a British take on the classic American steak n' cocktail concept that arrived in 2006 like a rain shower in a desert. Chosen, and loved, for its near fanatical devotion to quality cow, we approached them with the request to host our first steak club. We wanted meat, plenty of it, and I was confident the team would oblige. 

Their opening salvo of family style (the annoying Americanism for shared plates) starters set the tone. Tamworth belly ribs, like the rest of the meat here UK sourced and supplied by the Ginger Pig, were smokey, sweet and tasty. Bone marrow came roasted in the bone, mixed with soft yielding onions and served with a sourbread toast. It had the texture of foie and a dense almost mushroomy flavour. I'd have traded my mother for another bite. 
The steaks had to go some to beat that, thankfully they lived up to their (and my) billing. Platters of Bone-in Prime Rib, Porterhouse and Rump arrived to table, surrounded by a variety of unhealthy, but super tasty, sides. The Prime Rib was exceptional, certainly my favourite, succulent and perfectly cooked to a medium rare with an almost tart tang of blood. The Porterhouse wasn't far behind. An expansive mattress of meat, juicy soft tenderloin and equally tasty strip steak around the bone. Intensely flavoured and seasoned to match, soft enough to cut with a fork. 
It's not an obvious place for a date, unless the resulting meat coma is something you can both rise above, but is certainly solid enough for a (macho) client meeting. We found out quite how well it works for a coming together of meaty minds, a successful start to Steak Club, and a high bar for other vegetable dodgers to reach.