The Hill Bar & Brasserie

Belsize Park has always lagged behind its neighbours, aspiring to the vogueishness of Primrose Hill and the unwavering reputation of Hampstead. Which is why the residents felt it necessary to re-brand the lower part of Haverstock Hill as “Steeles Village” in October last year.

This new enclave can count the Sir Richard Steele pub and the (also recently rebranded) Hill Bar & Brasserie as local haunts. Having swapped its previous name of The Hill Bar & Garden to its more chi-chi current incarnation, the British pub fare has also been replaced with a “Pacific Northwestern” menu, inspired by the Vancouver-born owner, so there are North American staples like shellfish and steaks, as well as Szechuan bowls of noodles, macaroni cheese with lobster and cognac, and a “raw bar”, i.e. sashimi and oysters.

The décor is purposely aged, featuring turn-of-the-century-style dark wood furnishings, chandeliers and blemished mirrors, fitting given that there has been a pub on this site for several centuries.

Intrigued by the raw bar (which sadly, isn’t a bar at all but a section of the menu) we start with a couple of tasty native oysters, and a plate of not so tasty yellow fin tuna sashimi, which is hidden under a mountain of watery cucumber shavings, radishes and coriander. It’s limp and floppy, too thinly cut and partially cooked in salad dressing.

The mains have wholesome names like “overboard” burger and “baseball” fillet steak. The overboard is a herby fishcake of lobster, crayfish and prawns, with a generous dollop of lobster mayonnaise. The baseball steak is so peppery it verges on making my eyes water, but it’s once I get past this it’s really good, grilled to smoky perfection and succulent and pink when cut.

The chunky chips are humungous, more reminiscent of oval-shaped roast potatoes, they are crispy, and floury on the inside. Desserts are good too; the crème brûlée’s gloopiness is very satisfying, and the baked berry cheesecake is spongy and lovely, with plump raisins in the biscuit base. All this and the thoughtful wine selection (with unusual choices like a perfumed Coleridge Three Choirs from Gloucester) almost makes us forget about the soggy sashimi, where the menu got a little over-ambitious.