There was a very small line and we were seated pretty swiftly.
This time, we ordered wine. I can’t stay away from red for long, although we only got a small bottle as I didn’t bring any Zantac on the trip and wasn’t really looking forward to my Asian flush making an appearance. Also, being little and Asian, it doesn’t take many drinks for me to start chatting a lot of shit, so a couple of glasses was perfect for dinner.
Also, note how cute the waitress’ outfits are!
For starters we get given a walnut salad smothered with an incredibly light and delicious dressing, as well as a side of bread (which I stayed away from).
We went with the red recommended by the waitress after asking for a full-bodied one, which was actually very good.
But not as good as this baby.
Because they only serve one thing, that service was extremely speedy, which it should be so they can turnover the tables swiftly and get more customers in. We both asked for ours to be cooked medium rare. I couldn’t help think of my friend Lucy, who loves a blue steak. The French would love her here.
I don’t usually like mustard, but the mustard served here is not too strong and is a little sweet, which I really enjoyed.
To be honest, you don’t even need the mustard. Their secret sauce that they use is incredible. My steak was drowned in it, and I used the excess to be mopped up by the chips/french fries/pommes frites (depending on how French you want to go).
James was extremely happy with his meal. And his new modelling portfolio that he will probably/definitely make out of these pictures.
The steak was cooked perfectly. Shit, I forgot just how good this meal was. Looking back on it is making me so hungry. If you’ve never been, I can’t decide if you’re lucky or unlucky that you don’t know what you’re missing out on.
I mopped my plate clean.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention – the best part is they come round with more steak and chips to plop onto your plate for your second helping. Come to mama!
Yeah, you put on that sauce.
Our waitress was so lovely. I think we’ve lucked out with exceptionally nice French service so far.
We inhaled our second serving just as fast as our first. James loved the sauce so much that he soaked the rest up with the bread. After my two servings of chips, I was not prepared for any more intake of heavy carbohydrates, thanks.
However, I was prepared for dessert.
Once again, it was all in French, which sucked. However, I knew exactly what I wanted from eating here so often in London. My two favourite desserts are the profiteroles stuffed with vanilla ice-cream, drowned in hot chocolate sauce and topped with flaked almonds, as well as this baby. I can’t remember the French name, which she pointed out to me, but for her to know what I was talking about I described it as a tower of praline and ice-cream. She knew exactly what I meant.
Dessert has never looked so good. We only ordered one to share due to the fact that after our two servings, as well as our three-course lunch and two breakfasts before, we were feeling pretty porky.
I wish I could tell you that I didn’t use my finger to eat the remaining chocolate sauce of the plate. That happened.