The French have two ways of cooking meat: almost raw or to death.
This prime, aged, Nebraska rib eye is the former and all the better for it.
It was bloody rare, fork-tender, full of rich, roasted, beefy, mineral flavor, and seasoned by a Stradivarius with salt and pepper.
That Bordelaise sauce on the upper right was no slouch either, and neither were the pommes purée to the left.
At first glance we thought the kitchen had shorted us on that sauce (in ELV’s world, too much is never enough), but after a sip from the tiny serving spoon, we knew we were in the presence of greatness. So rich, so velvety, so winy, it felt like the point of singularity for all the beef flavor in the world.
It was a Bordelaise fit for the gods, made by mere mortals as an homage to the ethereal.
Yeah, it was that good. Especially if you know anything about French mother sauces and demi-glaces. A mere dab or two was enough to flavor the steak, but that didn’t keep us from drinking the rest straight from the cup.
The whole kit and kaboodle cost $76 — which may seem like a lot for an 18 oz. steak — but we can’t remember when we’ve had such serious steer…slathered so sinfully with so succulent a savory.
Just thought you’d like to know.
TWIST BY PIERRE GAGNAIRE
Mandarin Oriental at City Center
French bistros are about as hip as a dickey. They’ve been around for over two hundred years, and there is nothing fancy about them (or the food they serve). But if you want to do them well, certain formulas must be followed and menus and rules adhered to.