For Tom, and indeed for me, a search for the perfect steak frites has become an all-consuming quest – driven by a singular focus on understanding this quintessential French dish. While Paris is not lacking in excellent steakhouses, each of my visits was more about sampling the diverse culinary landscape than searching specifically for perfection.
I kicked off our excursion with a visit to Robert et Louise, a homely outfit in the Marais that has been cooking up a storm since 1950s. Over an entrecôte (AKA ribeye) served with sautéed potatoes and a green salad dressed with classic vinaigrette, I was struck by how straightforward yet satisfying the dish was. The extra minute or so of rare cooking brought out the fat in the meat, rendering it tender and juicy.
Next up, we headed to Brasserie Lipp on Boulevard Saint-Germain for a taste of rump steak served with fries that could have benefited from being cooked more recently. While the service was top-notch – our waiter François explained his standing in the pecking order with a dry wit – the dish itself fell short.
Our third stop, Le Pick-Clops, proved to be an instant hit, despite its humble exterior and retro decor. A beautifully seasoned rump steak paired perfectly with slaw, roast potatoes, and shallot sauce set my taste buds singing. The lesson I took away from this experience was that sometimes it's better not to overthink things – skipping the queue and embracing serendipity can lead to an unexpectedly perfect meal.
As we made our way home on the Eurostar, Tom started sketching out his vision of the ultimate steak frites in London. By the time we returned, he had nailed down the details – an onglet served with skinny chips, dijon mustard, and a side of smartly dressed leaves. For me, however, perfection lies not in some predetermined formula but in the thrill of discovery. My perfect steak frites remains a mystery, waiting to be uncovered by chance or circumstance.
In the end, our Parisian odyssey proved that the search for perfection is often more alluring than the destination itself – and that sometimes, it's okay to let things just happen.
I kicked off our excursion with a visit to Robert et Louise, a homely outfit in the Marais that has been cooking up a storm since 1950s. Over an entrecôte (AKA ribeye) served with sautéed potatoes and a green salad dressed with classic vinaigrette, I was struck by how straightforward yet satisfying the dish was. The extra minute or so of rare cooking brought out the fat in the meat, rendering it tender and juicy.
Next up, we headed to Brasserie Lipp on Boulevard Saint-Germain for a taste of rump steak served with fries that could have benefited from being cooked more recently. While the service was top-notch – our waiter François explained his standing in the pecking order with a dry wit – the dish itself fell short.
Our third stop, Le Pick-Clops, proved to be an instant hit, despite its humble exterior and retro decor. A beautifully seasoned rump steak paired perfectly with slaw, roast potatoes, and shallot sauce set my taste buds singing. The lesson I took away from this experience was that sometimes it's better not to overthink things – skipping the queue and embracing serendipity can lead to an unexpectedly perfect meal.
As we made our way home on the Eurostar, Tom started sketching out his vision of the ultimate steak frites in London. By the time we returned, he had nailed down the details – an onglet served with skinny chips, dijon mustard, and a side of smartly dressed leaves. For me, however, perfection lies not in some predetermined formula but in the thrill of discovery. My perfect steak frites remains a mystery, waiting to be uncovered by chance or circumstance.
In the end, our Parisian odyssey proved that the search for perfection is often more alluring than the destination itself – and that sometimes, it's okay to let things just happen.