A drinking den fit for carnivores

This bar is for brave, thirsty carnivores. It requires an empty stomach, a stoic liver and, ideally, a whole clear evening.

Uber steakhouse Hawksmoor, whose empire now includes four London sites, has come to the sensible realisation that its brilliant bartenders really ought to be given a bar of their own to showcase their skills.

And the result is the Hawksmoor Spitalfields Bar on Commercial Street where the City meets the shores of Shoreditch. Beneath the original restaurant, a former strip club in the basement has been brilliantly re-fashioned into this bar – with retro blue and white tiling, Art Deco brass walls, aged mirrors reflecting the soft candlelight and lots of cosy leather booths for gangs of friends, business deals or new lovers to commandeer. Both the food and drink menu are small but perfectly formed – with five regular cocktails with names like Shaky Pete’s Ginger Brew and five ‘Desert Island Drinks’ chosen each month by a barman – so you’ll fancy your chances of sampling the lot.

We chose bar-side high chairs – a great vantage point to watch your cocktails being expertly made. Starting as we meant to go on – we ordered the Navy Strength Gimlet and Shaky Pete’s Ginger Brew – and steadily made our way through the list via the Corpse Reviver (gin, blue curacao and absinthe) and the Tom & Jeary (tequila, elderflower, mint and ginger ale). Be warned, these drinks are exceptional, but strong.

To keep our livers sane, we got started on the grub – and made a rather healthy indent on that list too. You cannot leave Hawksmoor’s heavy steel doors without trying the shortrib nuggets. The melt-in-the-mouth balls of beef, coated in soft bone marrow and gently fried in breadcrumbs were the dog's pyjamas – hearty and brilliant. Also delicious were the BBQ chicken wings and just for good measure, the chicken poutine – to me and you that’s dead posh chips’n’gravy. But this is no Bisto, this is real stock with chicken bits poured generously over your perfect hand-cut chips.

We found it was best to have a pause – liquids still allowed of course (the Marmalade cocktail was a revelation) – before hitting the bigger snacks on the menu: a cheeseburger whose patty must have been pounded out of top cut steak with that signature Hawksmoory marrow taste; a chilli cheese hot dog (looks like a cartoon dog, tastes like a dream). We threw in some sides which turned out to be both excellent accompaniments and palette cleansers – jalapeno coleslaw (inspired) and smashed cucumbers (does what it says on the tin).

Although now fit to burst, we had to try the puddings – a classic choice from lemon meringue pie to chocolate sundaes. The peanut butter shortbread and salted caramel ice-cream (very en vogue) was heaven and sticky toffee good but not exceptional.

And better even than the unrivalled bar food and exemplary cocktails are the bartenders themselves: charming, knowledgeable and ever-so-attentive (especially if you sit at the bar).

Waddling out of the door at 11pm, four solid hours after we’d arrived, in a food coma of sorts and a little pissed, we were already making plans to come back with a gaggle of friends and conquer the whole menu. All in all a brilliant evening – perhaps not first date material though - having to undo your skinny jeans is something only a long-term partner will tolerate.