There's an American adage that goes "Keep It Simple, Stupid", meant to apply to everything from business presentations, to rock bands American mothers stupidly insisted were "Knights In Satan's Service". Keeping it simple, brilliantly: The Door. Now open in The City, The Door's an upscale departure from its more informal South Kensington cousin The Green Door (no relation to the movie, though you and a willing date could change that), a handsome two-floor, tin-ceiling space filled with low-hung chandeliers, red leather chairs, and vintage architectural lithographs, and specializing in two essential foodstuffs: steak, and oysters. The pearly greys all hail from the renowned Maldon Oyster Company, with the vast variety of species represented by Irish Mourne Rocks, plump Japanese Kumamotos, and wild Blackwaters from Essex, where bivalves aren't the only creatures that resist becoming domesticated. Steaks hail from similarly far-flung locales, with fillets, rib eyes, and sirloin cut from grain-stuffed Herefords from the Midwestern US, Argentinian Black Angus nourished with "over 200 grass varieties", and Chilean Wagyu "fed on beer… and massaged daily", a service that's frankly more relaxing on grass. Despite being completely superfluous, there are other things on the menu, from salt-marsh lamb steak, to slow-roast Lancashire pork belly, to grilled tails of lobster -- which according to a stupid band that mothers love, tend to rock and roll all night.