High-end steakhouses are all pretty similar: cuts of beef that cost two grand, stiff martinis, Caesar salads and a masculine Manhattan vibe. In that last respect, Hamilton stands out from the pack. Its shiny hardwood floor, sepia royal portraits and views of the Dusit’s elaborate tropical garden feel more 1950s Bangkok than 1920s New York—a perfect match for Hamilton’s clientele of bourgeois Thai families. (No wonder you won’t find steakhouse darling du jour Matsusaka beef here, or even Kobe.) Likewise, the service has the bygone charm of household servants, but also a definite cluelessness when it comes to the finer aspects of marbling grades or whether the wines from D’Sens (on the hotel’s top floor) can be had here. That same fuzziness extends to the kitchen. On our last visit, a T-bone ordered extra rare (the captain actually called that “raw”) produced something erring on the side of medium-rare. (It was also aged to the point of slight gaminess.) Another piece simply ordered rare came back just right—an Aussie wagyu rib eye with a marbling grade of eightit was truly superb meat, both tender and flavorful. We can’t go gentle on their Caesar salad though, that American classic of classics, which is here made up of mostly iceberg with a few leaves of Romaine on top (and the sauce is a bit light on the anchovies). Other appetizers, like the tasty but light mushroom soup, do fare somewhat better but sides (like the big, floury potato) are fairly pedestrian. As for desserts, the cheese cake, that other huge classic, is on par with most places in Bangkok but won’t transport you to Chicago either. Overall, these are all minor deviations from what you’d find in the best steakhouses—and the dining experience at Hamilton is still a pleasant one—but in such a competitive niche, and with bills running upwards of B4,000 per person with even the cheapest wine, we expect nothing short of perfection.
