Unsalubrious is perhaps a little strong, so let’s just say unpromising. Not a particularly gallant description of the building currently occupied by Brix and Bones but a fair assessment. It’s not their fault as they are “upstairs” which means that to some extent they are at the mercy of whatever goes on below (at my time of visiting, the boarded-up nothingness of a work in progress). But it would be an enormous mistake to turn away. Once in and up the stairs, the place is lovely, lively and offers up some brilliantly conceived and executed food. The staff are attentive, knowledgeable and seem to actually enjoy working here (not always a given). They sat us at the pass for a full view of the culinary theatre – highly recommended.

There wasn’t a single thing on the menu that I didn’t want to order immediately. A good sign. An embarrassment of riches for confirmed carnivores, there’s venison, mutton and meat lockers worth of beautifully aged beef as well as the odd, clever dive into the sea. We started with a deeply savoury, decidedly hand-made, merguez sausage nestling on sauerkraut and seasoned with just a hint of anchovy. This accompanied a lovely mutton and pheasant creation – a sort of croquette, although that mimsy word hardly does justice to the depth of its umami, katsu-inflected crunch.

The main events came in the shape of a stone-age-sized pork chop, crustily charred and perfectly cooked inside, served with a sweet/sour fennel gravy and dusted with katsuobushi (bonito flakes). Its companion, slices of mutton leg with wild garlic verde, was tender, yielding and surprisingly light.

The side dishes were every bit as good: proper buttery mash with crispy chicken skin and carroty carrots cooked just so and intriguingly with kombucha. To drink, we treated ourselves to a Rasteau from Domaine Gramiller: brilliant (see my full Tasting Note for details). The bone-marrow fudge doughnut that finished off proceedings was everything I had hoped (see pic). Sadly, it’s sparring partner, a sea buckthorn tart, wasn’t available that night but I would go back for it given the standard of the rest of the menu. Altogether, this was astonishingly assured cooking which is unsurprising perhaps given the presence in the kitchen of George Wood, formerly of London’s Temper and Smokehouse.