upon entering through its iron french doors and across the threshold, the assault on your senses begins. the energy within cleaver could only be described as intense, with so many otherwise sensible diners turned instantly to gluttonous carnivores, at no fault of their own i might add, and how could one not with the massive doses of pleasure being served up at every table. the industrial, yet somehow comforting interior glows with the inky eminence surrounding a slowly dancing flame, whisping back and forth inside old plate gas lanterns on every wall. the display of vintage iron meat cleavers though some may find disturbing, reminds one of the impending gasro-orgasm which is about to begin. behind the bar every occurrence is more alchemy than mixology, a near titanic tree stump looms on the bar top, scorched with the scars of many smoked bourbon old fashioneds, this is a sight to behold i promise you. as the ambiance has set about satiating your soul, your original purpose for making that reservation seems so transparent and empty, as now one understands this is so much more than a meal, it is an experience in and of itself. this is art.we indulged in the perfectly served and outrageously delicious beef carpaccio, then the seared cuddlefish and squid. this dish will remain close in my heart like a childhood memory, in fact i'd have given up a few childhood memories for this one. following closely a medieval preparation of bone marrow and chimi churri, which satisfies even the most bent and unusual of food fetishes. there is something just unbelievably, and wonderfully hedonistic about bone marrow, it is among my favourite sins. our main was a whole cock, farm reared and marinated for 24 hours, served in bread sauce with duck-fat fries. lipitor should have this on their warning labels. you know you want it. our finale was although modest comparatively, the home-made donuts and marshmallows served in a crème-caramel sauce, my pancreas tried to run at this point i'm certain. nevertheless, we soldiered on into that sticky, sweet plethora of dessert utopia. cleaver knocked me over like an unassuming cow by a hoard of drunken frat boys, and anyone, other than vegans obviously would be making a huge mistake by not making a reservation immediately. do yourself a favour and ask to be sat in rhiannon's section. she is the best in the business. gluttony has never been this good. so, go make that rezo.