MEAT AND FIRE
I’d love to tell you that steak and chips is the most popular last meal on death row, but sometimes facts ruin a good story. In the USA at least, fried chicken wings, followed by hamburgers, then steak. But we’re in Britain now – the endlessly lovely Lanes in Brighton, in fact – and we don’t have quite the same culture of fried chicken (or the electric chair). I’d lay a pretty good bet that here, the condemned would ask for steak.
Embers is not actually a steakhouse (it would be better described as a wood-fired bistro), but they are well known for their top-quality cuts, since opening in 2023 under chefs and friends Dave Marrow and Isaac Bartlett-Copeland. Embers has already risen to the dizzying rank of third-best restaurant in Brighton in the 2026 BRAVO Awards, as well as number one in the ‘Best Sunday Roast‘ charts – and you know how cruelly Britons judge that particular homely banquet. The pleasant surprise here is the quality of everything else they do.
MEAT, FIRE, ACTION
Meat and fire are manly things, so I took a man with me for our visit late on Friday night. A proper one, so full of testosterone that it’s burned the hair off the top of his head. He has a deep, rumbling voice and his fashion advice is a bulletproof vest. When he’s not patrolling the world’s war zones, he does wonderful things with meat and flame. He looked at home in Embers, dimly lit, with, as focal points, the open cooking fires and a rustic chandelier over our heads. Having said that, both our waiters were female, and our fellow diners were an even split (and all stolid of soul of course; you don’t come here to play.)
Proper Man had a margarita, which came with an explosively tasty chilli salt rim. We’re both margarita devotees, and both loved it. Proper Man insisted on steak, which is off a daily board. The choice that evening was a tomahawk to share, a fillet, or a wagyu rump, which was the one we went for. We also ordered the collar of pork which, the waitress explained, is basically pork’s answer to steak. It’s worth noting here that not only are the waiting staff delightful, they are clearly food enthusiasts too. One of them was on a mission to give everyone a nip of Amaro after dinner, a herby digestif from her native Montenegro similar to something monks might have made in France before the invention of the wheel. It’s the sort of fun, off-the-cuff hospitality that makes a restaurant feel very human.
HIGH-OCTANE SMALL PLATES
The recommendation was to order five or six plates alongside the main hits (the pork and the steak). The small-plate lineup did not disappoint:
- Grilled Peach Panzanella: Paired with smoked kale and crunchy croutons.
- Charred Savoy Cabbage: Layered with miso hummus, sweet chilli, and dukkah.
- Whipped Cod Roe: Served with smoky radicchio, pickled radish, fennel, and sorrel.
- Sea Trout: Tender, smoky chunks with ponzu sauce, furikake, and plum umeboshi.
- Flamed Broad Beans: Tossed with pico de gallo and flaked almonds.
- Bombay Potatoes: Topped with coriander cream, crispy shallots, and panch phoran.
Each description highlights just how thoughtfully these dishes are constructed. As soon as they arrived, we knew they would have been a meal in themselves – Embers is remarkably generous. If you feel, as Proper Man does, that quantity is at least as important as quality, you will love this; as I said, people don’t come here to play.
If you visit, I’d strongly advise limiting yourself to two sides with your main – you can always change your mind later. The side dishes were, without exception, exceptional – you want to eat everything here. And, dear reader, we tried very hard, I promise. The rest came back home in a box. There was no way this ambrosia was going anywhere near a bin.
THE LAST SUNSET
The real surprise of the night was the pork collar, something neither Proper Man nor I had tried before. The steak was very rare and generous (they don’t actually ask you how you want the steak done, because they know how it should be done), but the pork was a whole new experience: dense, close-grained and profoundly savoury and meaty. Pork is an unforgiving meat to do well, so I wouldn’t trust the Death Row chef with it for my own last sunset. But I’d be more than happy if they offered to nip over to Embers for me.
