It’s not uncommon for chefs to actively dislike the owners of the restaurant they work in. After all, to be a chef is to create art – a mantra that admittedly some take more seriously than others. But a chef creates a menu. They are the conductor of what leaves their kitchen. And they want total, unanimous control. That is how the brigade system works and why kitchens are, in a world of increasingly busy HR departments, the last commercial bastion of aggressive militant command.

Invariably, however, the one party that gets in the way of the chef’s autonomy is the owner. And here lies the friction. Even if you think cheeseburgers are lazy, unimaginative menu items – the Antichrist of modern dining, perhaps – if ‘the owner’ insists that a burger is on offer, guess what: you better order some beef. Owners tolerate passion and some enjoy constructive debate, but they all have their limits. As soon as Richard Caring sniffs out one palpable sense of ambition in one of his chefs – perhaps some zealous, non-requested menu development – they’re out the door.

This is not, of course, always the case. And it’s certainly not the case at Goldies, on the ground floor of Kingly Court in Soho. It was opened last year by Yannis and Maxime Alary, the pair behind the well-loved Blanchette: identical brothers, who somehow are not twins; one with big hair, one with none. It’s centred on an open-fire kitchen, said to bring dishes the brothers have loved from travelling around the world together into one place. AKA: let’s just make delicious food regardless of its pigeonholed cuisine.

Since its launch last summer, the brothers have found themselves a seriously good chef in Will Samuel. They say never to trust a man with two first names, but I’d trust chef Will to cook for me for the rest of my life. He has strapped Goldies to a winch, levelling it up daily; used the specials board as a scrapbook for his extremely good epicurean concepts. His training in Michelin-starred kitchens has produced a creative and competent cook who has seemingly been given free rein here.

Baby chicken, roasted above a fire and served spatchcocked, was an original menu item, but it gets better every time, I swear. Just promise me you’ll request that it’s cooked juicy, below 80ºC. It’s with frustrated disdain that chefs have to overcook chicken to ensure it’s not sent back. Meanwhile, the beef shin croquettes with pickled ketchup never fail to make me close my eyes, giving me a moment’s euphoria as satisfying crunch gives way to velvety, rich beef shin, rounded off with a sharp tangy finish from the walnut. Yes. Please.

The humble French fry, the glowing hue of which gave Goldies its name, is a big deal here. Since taking the helm, chef Will has changed the potato to achieve a more consistent crisp bite, without losing the fluffy centre. Cooked in beef fat (and I mean proper beef fat), the fries take me back to the Bedford Interchange Retail Park McDonald’s in the mid-to-late 1990s, chomping down relentless fries with my gramps. Did McDonald’s previously use beef fat before later switching to a lower-cost, lower-calorie alternative? Or was my palate far more easily impressed back then?

But every pen needs a lid and every fry needs a sauce. Goldies has four sauces to choose from, but choose from them you will not. You will order them all and proceed to dance between them to your heart’s content. Confusingly, they all look the same – 50 shades of beige – but their flavours differ massively. Gun to my head, Brazilian BBQ is the best. NO – the spicy Japanese one. Or just get them all, for god’s sake. I sent a member of my team there recently and when her answer to my question of “Which sauce was your fave?” was “oh wE diDn’t oRdEr aNy sAUces” I don’t think I have ever been more disappointed and frustrated with a human being in my life.

Specials boards are often a place for chefs to flex their waste-management muscles, offloading leftover fridge fillers before it’s too late. At Goldies, however, the specials board is chef Will’s plaything. Here, his Michelin-star kitchen experience really shines through. I’m still left thinking about the monkfish tail with a satay sauce and black bean rayu. As Will placed it in front of me he announced: “Careful, that satay sauce is like crack.” Ladies and gents, this was no lie.

I honestly don’t think Goldies set out with the honest intention to kick out food that is this good. What started out as a humble, light-hearted, casual spot aimed at the languid brunchers, lunchers and date-munchers of Soho has in fact matured into a very discerning dining club. So much so that the interior, which slightly feels like an extension of Urban Outfitters, has become slightly disconnected from the burgeoning menu. But no bother. Sit at the counter, order more than you think is necessary, and chat to chef Will about all things food. You’ll love it. And, most of all, you’ll be pleasantly surprised by the bill at the end.

Read Jesse's review of Cinder in Belsize Park...