Grace and Flavour: Pitt Cue Co

In times of supposed austerity, restaurants such as Pitt Cue, or ‘Pitt Queue’ as lolsters are calling it, shouldn’t apologise for being busy. Pitt Cue is as hectic now as it was six months back when word spread of this teensy-tiny basement BBQ joint flinging tin trays of oozing pulled pork and beef brisket, slaws and pickles at keen diners.

I say ‘flings’ because Pitt Cue is finely made yet no-frills dining. I ate my sausage in a sweet brioche bun with a side of bone-marrow mash and Cajun slaw, washed down with a woozy-making ‘hard lemonade’, while sitting crammed into an alcove with my head inches from a brick wall and one elbow in the pulled pork of a male stranger. As I gave the waitress my order I had to crick my neck and speak directly into his ear, fluttering his hair.

In normal non-Pitt Cue circumstances this amount of intimacy between humans is the run-up to someone ending up ‘slightly pregnant’. None of this enforced intimacy is remotely British and dignified. I wonder how often a rattled Brit in a cummerbund stands up and roars: ‘Hang on, we’re crammed in a basement eating slops in trays! Are we actually in a Venezuelan prison?’

Regardless, there’s no shortage of foodies who wholly get this relaxed concept of ‘dinner’. The average Pitt Cue diner when I visited was mid-twenties, male and part of a group deliciously lost in a carnivorous ‘Um, meat, drippy sauce, ribbbbbs, taste GUD!’-type man trance, gossiping about the meaty goings-on at rival joints Meat Liquor, Lucky Chip and Meat Wagon.

My tip to Pitt Cue newbies is to eschew this ‘relaxed dining’ mumbo jumbo and plan your visit with the devious, controlled precision of a Meiji Restoration-era Ninja. Hunt in a pair, arrive at approx 8.30pm midweek with sharp elbows, an indomitable spirit and a willingness to give your name to the pretty waitress, then hover about upstairs knocking back bourbon-based knock-your-socks-off cocktails until you get the ‘come hither for ribs’ wink. Go hard or go hungry. Oh, and go to the bathroom and check your face before you catch the Tube home. You’ll have BBQ sauce in your hair and I’ve been informed it's not at all sexy.

PITT CUE CO 1 Newburgh Street, W1 (pittcue.co.uk)