The British have always had a love affair with beef. Think of William Hogarth’s famous painting in the Tate, “The Gate of Calais”, also known as “The Roast Beef of Old England.” It shows a man valiantly defending a side of beef from the perfidious French. In more recent years, the likes of Hawksmoor and Goodman have raised the stakes (no pun intended) in terms of what diners can expect from a good cut of meat. Into the fray has sprung Flat Iron, a mini-chain on a distinct mission – to bring steak to the masses. It mostly succeeds.
One simple gauge for the success of the Flat Iron concept is that the group now has ten outlets across London and shows no sign of slowing down. Founder Charlie Carroll has clearly been on the money with his hunch that diners are happy to pay reasonable prices for secondary cuts of beef, especially if the quality is evident. Don’t expect a T-Bone or a Porterhouse at Flat Iron, but for well less than £20 a cut what the venue does serve up is highly impressive, as our group of four found on a recent week night visit.
Our group descended on the Flat Iron venue in Borough, located on the site of The Clink, a notorious medieval prison. It’s certainly a talking point, although the interior shows no evidence of its historic roots. Rather, it’s done in a depressingly predictable fashion: think of minimalist white walls with exposed piping, albeit with a few trailing plants added. The orange booth in which we sat was a step up from an Angus Steakhouse, but would not have been out of place in Joe Allen’s a decade or two ago. Aesthetics aside, the service and food certainly pleased. Diners do tend to remember little twists, and Flat Iron offered a positive surprise on both the way in and out. On arrival, guests are given popcorn and tap water gratis, without even needing to ask – a nice touch. The menu makes choosing easy: it’s just the eponymous steak (from the cow’s shoulder), a bavette (from the flank) or a burger. Beyond this, there are around half a dozen sides, the majority of which we sampled. Our four medium rare bavettes – we made things easy for the chef – came promptly and were presented artfully on wooden boards, with a cleaver to attack the meat. It was tender, smoky and cooked as requested. Sides also delivered, with particular praise for the crispy bone marrow garlic mash – a genius combination – a comforting creamed spinach concoction and a refreshing tomato salad.
Flat Iron did, however, fall short with its wines. While cheap (no bottle is priced at more than £38), you get what you pay for. Both our bottles (one Spanish, the other Italian) felt somewhat acidic and jarringly tannic. At least we left on a high. Four mini metal cleavers come with the bill. We were told to take these to the exit where they were exchanged for a cone of ice cream topped with chocolate sprinkles. As we walked away from Flat Iron, the experience of the evening endured.