Once I had arrived at this handsome restaurant and led away from the upstairs reception area – reminiscent of a gentleman’s billiard room, with its wooden panelled walls and hints of gilded age décor – I was taken downstairs to be seated in a well-lit private dining area. Here I was perched against an exposed brick wall and farmyard paintings, which allowed me full sight of the room: comfortable and classy.
If anything though, there was one thing on my mind, and that was the anticipation for the impending luxury steak main that boomed around my empty belly. And who could blame me for feeling this way, with the very foundation of the restaurant being built around the statement that they are simply “exceptional”. Guests were informed by Michelin-star head chef, Antony Flinn, that they’ll be served with only the finest quality, hand sourced beef, aged for up to 28 days. Of course, they weren’t willing to give it up straight away on a platter for us to only up and go. I appreciated the art of the build-up. This did, however, reiterate that when it finally arrived, it would have to be special, or there would be some fairly bruised egos in the kitchen.
Stockdale’s first move was to present us with a fillet steak tartare, and king prawn cocktail perched beside a delicate slither of shellfish mayonnaise. The plate arrived with the sweetest little jar packed with liver parfait and topped with damson jam. The devil is in the detail, as they say, and the swirl of tastes catered to my entire palate, with a corresponding umami to pique the overall pleasantness.
It was the perfect set-up for what we were all waiting for, and I guess this is where I will have to come clean.
Best steak I’ve ever had.
No, really. There was this sweet gorgeousness to the beef, this je ne sais quoi, pure melt in the mouth premium flavour. It was soft to the bite, spongy to the touch, with just the right amount of crimson juice flowing from the generously large cut to complete the perfect medium-rare cook. Outstanding.
Just so you can be sure to order the same as what I had, that was the Stockdale’s 10 ounce Wagyu Sirloin. On this evening it was served with creamy spinach, gem lettuce, truffle hollandaise and gravy. Not so keen on the gem lettuce – it quickly got soggy in the meat’s juices and seemed to be an experiment pulled from a dish seen out in the continent, rather than what you’d find on a proper Yorkshire farmer’s plate. But let’s leave that aside. You’ll be hard pushed to find such a divine place to eat elsewhere that can compete with the overall quality. So, as for the hefty price stamp? Worth it.