An Honest Review Of Hon's BBQ

The other day I went to a restaurant, and I asked the server how he was doing. It was 7:00 in the evening, and he said that I was the first person to ask him that on his shift. Dining etiquette has gone cold; the separation between diner and server is a vast one. At Hon’s, that is simply not the case — and the food is all the better for it.

Hon’s is a sorely needed addition to the dining scene, a good example of humanity in hospitality with a first-rate menu.
Mallory, Junior Food & Drink Editor

What sets it apart

Hon’s is the newest of a trendy bunch to bring BBQ to London this year, but where the widely loved and welcomed Cue Point is bringing us Afghan-Texan, Hon’s promises Chinese-Texan. As a Texan at heart, there is both excitement and anxiety in these openings. We’ve been asking for the city to welcome “good barbecue” for ages; now that restaurateurs are heeding the call, there is a chance for fault, for disappointment.

I do not remember the last time I was told the name of my server without asking for it first. At Hon’s, the gap is bridged, and it is bridged with ridiculously good barbecue.

I will tell you this much: there was little to be disappointed about here. Hon’s sits beside CRATE Brewery, an already great location with the canal acting as a beer garden. The scene is friendly and warm; it is convivial and lighthearted; barbecue in its informality and familiarity fits in perfectly. The staff began, I noticed, by asking diners how they heard about them, collecting feedback and then letting them know the name of the server who will be looking after them. I do not remember the last time I was told the name of my server without asking for it first. At Hon’s, the gap is bridged, and it is bridged with ridiculously good barbecue.

What we ordered

Tomato and melon salad to begin, a cool introduction to the sweet-umami palette of the rest of the meal with shaved, in-season melon and Isle of Wight tomatoes glistening in oily chillis and herbs. This landed before the duck pancakes. Duck pancakes, to me, are a non-negotiable in Chinese takeaways, but it’s not often I get the pleasure of having them at the dining table. The duck was fragrant and juicy while the plum sauce was thick and flavourful (although lacking abundance, perhaps a testament to how much of it we wanted on the pancake).

Moving on to the smoked meats, some of which we reserved before arriving. As a disclaimer – the short rib is one that, if you did not reserve, you would be missing out on the full capabilities of the kitchen. The pork belly acted as the perfect introduction to the meats in its textural capacity to calm a diner down. It is soft and sweet, fatty and mellow. Further, the ox cheek was rich and smoky and buttery, topped with pickled onions to brighten up what is some of the more decadent meats on the menu – one of the best as well. The lamb, if it is your thing, was a flavour bomb of… lamb. I respect it, I understand it, but it was a bit too meaty for me, nearing on goaty. But if you’re into that kind of thing, it will definitely be some of the best of it, plus it’s a show in how to season properly.

The pork belly acted as the perfect introduction to the meats in its textural capacity to calm a diner down. It is soft and sweet, fatty and mellow.

Finally, the short ribs with Sichuan peppercorn sauce. It had me thinking of Bourdain, when he said that the ultimate hangover cure was to have “aspirin, cold Coca-Cola, smoke a joint, and eat some spicy Szechuan food.” I did all of these things at Hon’s, bar the joint, and I left feeling far less fragile than when I arrived. Perhaps it was the short rib – the bite of the Sichuan combined with the almost floral note of pepper atop a tender, delicate meat. This was a bite that stopped you in your tracks as you pointed speechlessly at your partner, egging them on to try a bite too. It is a bonding tool, a magnificent feat in fusion cooking.

This was a bite that stopped you in your tracks as you pointed speechlessly at your partner, egging them on to try a bite too. It is a bonding tool, a magnificent feat in fusion cooking.

Beef short ribs w/ sichuan peppercorn sauce (300g) (£36)

All of this came alongside beef-dripping scallion oil rice, lap cheong smoked mac and cheese, an organic Karma Cola, and a vodka, raspberry and yuzu soda cocktail brewed downstairs at CRATE. We sipped our cocktails with a mango and coconut pudding once the ailments from the night before had finally, magically begun to subside.

Verdict

Hon’s was, for lack of a better word, medicine; it is something Londoners have been craving, it is a warm smile from service, a giggle, a playful execution of high-calibre cooking. Closeness and affability do not indicate facetiousness here. Quite the opposite, the warmth of the team is mirrored in the warmth of the food, in the softness, in the brightness, in the brilliance. Hon’s is a sorely needed addition to the dining scene, a good example of humanity in hospitality with a first-rate menu.