It is the food here that is most likely to sink its hooks into you. This begins with the dish that is already emerging as an unconventional signature. It is a dairy beef tartare croque monsieur: a decorous miniature ham toastie, enrobed in a golden spill of melted cheese, piled with a glistening, thick-chunked heaping of raw meat and packing a delirious, messy tussle of bovine funk, piercing brine and mellowing, lactic sweetness. Next came an expanse of eel Caesar salad that landed as one crashing wave of moreish umami after another; Bible-thick, griddled pork chop in a sweet, ringing prawn stock and lemongrass sauce; bonfire-scented shredded cabbage, brightened by a lime, white soy and tarragon dressing. And before all that, there was a robustly grilled, profoundly flavoursome flatbread, alongside a horseradish and trout roe cream, that ploughed the same furrow of studious intensity.