The anti-Angus Steakhouse

Why being too Instagram chic can backfire

Angus Steakhouse, Oxford Circus (Chris Sampson)

One of the longest relationships of my life was with a local corner shop. Located mere yards from my front door, it stocked everything a twenty-something with no intention of cooking could possibly need, all within a Narnia-eque back section that seemed to stretch into infinity, with every conceivable brand of cereal and flavour of energy drink.

The owner, easily the hardest-working man in Haggerston, never judged me or my choices, whether I was wearing a suit and tie or badly crumpled pyjamas. He had long ago mastered the ability to work a till and bag up items without diverting his eyes from the television showing Turkish football highlights.

Best of all, I benefited from an unofficial loyalty scheme — he didn’t charge me the advertised 50p to pay by card. Consequently, I would shop there even if the local Tesco was marginally cheaper, its range wider and fruit fresher. This was a business optimising for the lifetime value of our relationship, and I was only too pleased to reciprocate.

Google Street View

This stands in sharp contrast to transactional capitalism. Think restaurants in tourist hotspots such as London’s Leicester Square, Barcelona’s La Rambla and Tokyo’s Shibuya Crossing. Here, businesses operate on the assumption that they’ll never see their customers again, and so it doesn’t matter if they serve them up wilted salad leaves or reheated seafood.

The classic of the genre is Angus Steakhouse, which shot back to cultural consciousness last year, after Londoners began posting fake ‘glowing’ online reviews to keep unsuspecting visitors — often Americans with their strong dollar — away from the real hidden gems. My old Evening Standard colleague, David Ellis, wrote a deliciously scathing review. “Unpatriotic in its crapness,” he concludes.

Angus Steakhouse menu

And not cheap either. A burger fetches £19.50, a 12oz steak ribeye “rich and marbled perfection with unparalleled juiciness” (this is the description on the menu and very much not David’s experience) £28.50. Would you like garlic butter or peppercorn sauce with that? A further £2.50 please. Little wonder Washington is turning sour on Nato.