Why would you go to 6HEAD steak restaurant and not have the steak?

The Mouth ventured to 6HEAD, a steakhouse in the Rocks, and never made it past the starters. Here is why smashing the whole entree menu is not a bad thing.

The Tomahawk Steak at 6HEAD. Apparently, it’s great. Picture: James Gourley/The Sunday Telegraph)

Over a recent dinner out with this column’s much better half – let’s call her Mrs Mouth for short – conversation turned to the question of whether to sell up the largely deserted family pile and pick up a no fuss, no muss apartment in a trendier part of town.

“We could come downstairs and eat someplace like this after work, become regulars, pop in for a piece of fish and a glass of wine, it’d be great,” she said.

Looking to steer conversation onto safer ground, we parried with a subject change.

“I don’t know, I find starters much more interesting, I think I’d rather have one of (item A) and one of (item B) and call it a night.”

The tactic worked a treat, and before you could say ‘clearance rate’ we were discussing the smorgasbord of entrees we recently enjoyed at a new-ish steakhouse down at the Rocks.

6HEAD. is named after the six head of cattle that arrived in Australia with the First Fleet, is housed in the a preserved 1839 heritage sandstone building at Campbell’s Cove, the Rocks. Picture: John Appleyard

Called 6HEAD, the name makes about as little sense as the moniker of the American steakhouse chain Ruth’s Chris, though both claim to have a story that explains it all.

Likewise, too, the seating situation, which appears to be almost entirely outdoor (making this the hot ticket when La Nina clears out in 2026 or so).

Nevertheless, on a recent, rare non-horrific evening we found ourselves with a half-dozen others under the heat lamps just smashing through the entire entree menu.

And it was good.

Homemade bresaola. Crackingly sweet little oysters, the best we’ve had in a while.

Chicken liver parfait, sort of like an adult ice cream. Little octopuses that we often shy away from because they’re such smart and weird creatures but couldn’t resist.

Steak tartare, because, well, when in Rome.

You get the idea: Even without the restaurant’s rather showy steaks (and steak knives, personalised versions of which are issued to their best customers) this was a great way to crack jokes and enjoy snacks over martinis with colleagues and mates.

Which leads us to a confession.

We never did try the steak.

Though our compadres claimed they were excellent, we demurred and enjoyed – we know, we know – the burger, as if we were dipping into the kids’ menu.

But even this they nailed, and made sophisticated with slabs of cheddar and Emmenthal.

Will we be back? Yes, if the weather starts to look up, and we can avoid paying stamp duty in a down market.

If only just for snacks.