Rating: GGGGG
For a restaurant that serves a macho, predominantly meat-based menu, the Gaucho Grill is all very camp and OTT - think gay porn star chic meets 70s-style Miami hotel - but then again, that's what makes the Gaucho Grill a favourite amongst the achingly fashionable set who dine here before flitting into the Cuckoo Club next door. The in-your-face glitz hits you as soon as you step foot inside the chain's Piccadilly restaurant; it's incredibly dark, with a cascading stairway before you, a shiny reception desk and cloakroom to the right (no doubt stocked with expensive furs and leathers), and a gorgeous, dimly-lit bar on the left.

Ushered to the bar's low-seating by one of Gaucho's incredibly pleasant staff members (of which there are many!), we enjoyed a couple of mouthwatering Mojito cocktails with a gaggle of the City's top movers and shakers before making our way upstairs. Decked out with a black-and-white chessboard-esque floor, calfskin chairs, oversized tapestries, crystal chandeliers, swooping archways, ornate mirrors and glossy black tables, the room would have made Elton John's very own boudoir look understated. What stood out most, however, was the open kitchen at one end of the restaurant; here a single chef stood grilling enough meat to feed a small African nation. Fortunately, the Gaucho Grill runs like clockwork, and there are never any uncomfortable waits between courses, nor are there any forgotten requests or overlooked tables.

Having ordered a couple more drinks, we perused the fan-style menu before being shown a delightful platter of meat cuts. Thick, juicy and ruby-raw, our mouths watered as our server went through each cut's description and how each should be cooked. Opting for rump, we were left to soak up the intimate atmosphere. It was an eclectic mix of people on the Monday night we were here; smart-suited businessmen discussed stocks and shares over a couple of bottles of Argentina's finest red wine; a picture-perfect family sat cosily in the corner, the mother dabbing a dollop of ketchup from her son's rosy cheek; a couple schmoozed over a plate of sweet breads, eyes only for each other and the food that was set down before them; and then there was us, the media crowd more interested in soaking it all up then writing stuff down in our notebooks.

Our appetisers were brought up fairly quickly, and consisted of two mouthwateirng dishes; crab cakes and chorizo sausage with red pepper. At just the right size, the starters were perfectly satisfying yet left enough room in our bellies for the feast that was to come after. And what a feast it was! Cooked medium to rare, the rump steaks were the best we'd honestly ever tasted - and we've tasted a hell of a lot! - and were cooked to absolute perfection. We did briefly wonder why we weren't given steak knives, but that was until we cut through the meat to find it parted like butter. Pink on the inside (without seeping horror movie-like blood) and crispy brown on the outside, the guys at the Gaucho Grill sure know how to cook their four-legged ingredients! We had opted for a couple of side orders, too, with a plate of beautiful hand-cut chips, a bowl of sweet potatoes and a dish of spinach placed in the middle of the table. All were very tasty, and complimented the meat down to a T-bone - though, to be honest, the steak alone would have spoken for itself.

Opting out of dessert for sheer over-indulgence, we asked for the bill and paid up for our extremely reasonably-priced dinner. Although it's by no means the cheapest steak dinner in town, taking into account the surroundings, atmosphere and quality of the imported Argentinean steak, it's certainly not the most expensive, either. While vegetarians should steer clear (the calfskin chairs alone would be enough to make them throw up), the Gaucho Grill is the ultimate carnivore's destination. So next time you say, 'I could eat a cow' (and mean it), you'll know exactly where to go.
www.gauchorestaurants.co.uk / Images: Gaucho Grill