If there’s one thing I learned from dining at Flat Iron Soho, it’s that even Photoshop can’t save you when your ISO is set to 1600.
It’s dark in there—not to the naked eye, but the kind of anti-light that lenses love to hate. Even the filters on my phone, which I eventually pull out after admitting defeat, are at a loss. The resulting images are grainier than caviar leather. Points for nostalgia?
Speaking of caviar and other foods, Flat Iron opens promptly at noon, which is when we roll in for our first meal of the day.
The medium rare Flat Iron Steak (£10) arrives less pink than expected—but it’s so tender that their miniature meat cleaver (displaying the edge of a butter knife) neatly separates each slice with a little pressure. Is it sous vide? I have no idea, but I suspect so from the uniform texture. My problem with this is that it begs for a more aggressive sear; the beef might carry grill marks, but it lacks the charred crust I love. Personal preference.
The salad, a tangle of fresh greens under bright, mustardy vinaigrette, makes me feel virtuous—which is why I gladly begin the meal with a salty helping of their complimentary popcorn. I’m even happier when I bite into the Dripping Cooked Chips (£2.50): warm spuds that shatter slightly when my teeth meet their crisp shells.
Notes for next time: leave the camera at home.
Flat Iron Soho
17 Beak St
London W1F 9RW