SmokyPlate

Barbecue usually arrives on a tray, a board or a sheet of paper. SmokyPlate puts it on china. The name covers the whole distance between the fire and the diner in two words, and the second one carries a quiet promise of a tablecloth, a wine list and somebody bringing a clean knife.

The identity takes that promise seriously. Its emblem is a monogram in brushed silver, an S that rises at the top into curls of smoke, interlaced with a P inside a fine circle, and beneath it the name is written in a flowing script. It is the kind of mark you would expect from a hotel dining room, and the contrast is deliberate. Cooking over fire is about as old as cooking gets; the lettering suggests it can still be served with ceremony.

Two concept images set the monogram into dark stone, the same scene drawn wide and tall: a rack of charred ribs on a board, a cast-iron pan of steak sliced to a pink centre, a patterned chef's knife, garlic, peppercorns, sprigs of rosemary and a wisp of real smoke curling up from the emblem. A third imagines the dining room, with pale stone, leather banquettes, glassware set on every table and the monogram backlit on the wall like a signature.

Steaks and kebabs cooked over coals would sit well under it. So would a short tasting menu that changes with whatever came off the smoker that afternoon.