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Sizzling beef fat poured over oysters. Martinis so cold they almost bring a tear to the eye. Massive beef ribs stored in a mausoleum of dry-ageing cabinets. But also: the sort of salads you really want to eat, and equal grill-time given to whole boned river trout, and tender, scorchy calamari.

This first-level bar and grill from the property-backed Etymon group taps into all the things to love about a steakhouse, without the old-school macho stuff. The long, windowed room is all blond wood and soft tones, and the kitchen glows with charcoal ovens and wood fired hearths.

An entry-level hanger steak is so rich and juicy, there’s no need for the proffered mustard. Desserts also go beyond, with a pretty pineapple savarin caramelised at the table. All hail the steakhouse for our times.