SUNDAY ROAST

At Hawksmoor, Sunday is for a proper roast. Not just a meal, but a ritual. The sort of feast that calls everyone to the table and keeps them there. Think Thanksgiving, but weekly, and with Yorkshire puddings.

The tradition goes back centuries, to great joints of meat turning over open fires, families gathering, plates passed, stories shared. It is a cornerstone of British life and a proud part of ours. A long lunch that gently drifts into the afternoon. Breakfast and lunch, happily tangled together.

In the UK, we have twice been awarded Best Sunday Roast, so it is fair to say we take it seriously. Awfully seriously, from the quality of the beef to the last spoonful of gravy.  

“Sunday Roast is part ritual, part feast. It is about generosity and time spent together,” says Co-Founder Huw Gott. “We have brought that spirit to our Chicago home, roast beef cooked over open fire, crisp potatoes, Yorkshire puddings, proper gravy, the works. It is a very English tradition, built on something universal, gathering people around beef and letting the afternoon take care of itself.” 

A proper Sunday roast starts with the beef. Ours is all-natural, dry-aged rump, sourced with care, cooked over real charcoal, then finished low and slow. It’s sliced thickly, generously and served exactly as it should be – full of flavour, no fuss, nothing held back.

And then, there are the trimmings.

First, the beef dripping roast potatoes. Properly crisp, shattering at the edges, soft in the middle. They do not sit politely on the plate. They demand gravy, and we are happy to oblige. Ours is bone marrow and onion gravy, glossy, rich and poured without hesitation.

Then the Yorkshire puddings. Tall, golden, built to catch every last drop. Roasted carrots, sweet and caramelised at the edges. Buttered greens with just enough bite to keep things honest. A whole clove of roasted garlic, soft and spreadable, for those who like to go all in.

And if you would like to take things further, we actively encourage it.

Our stuffing is unapologetically savoury, made to partner roast beef properly. Cauliflower cheese arrives bubbling, bronzed on top and dangerously good — the sort of side that threatens to upstage everything else on the table.

Because Sunday is not about restraint. It is about abundance, gravy boats within easy reach, and the table falling quiet for all the right reasons.