This is a place I've been to several times, but always after dinner…read more
For me, La Sœur is the definition of an upper middle class borough service - welcoming, unpretentious and pricey.
But I must admit, for those days when we aren't in a cook mood, it's very handy to have an emergency plan for a restaurant just down the road.
From a distance, this looks like the queendom of fairy lights, beautiful and warm. It feels almost like staring at one's own candle-lit Christmas table while wearing only one contact lens. But that adds to the charm.
And so this was my emergency plan this week. It played in its favour that, although specialising in French cuisine, they also serve steaks. How rewarding. I'm a carnivore, and satisfied to be one.
The tables are casually arranged. Just, perhaps, slightly too close to one another in one of the rows, which can, and does, become a problem for loud talkers. Unless, of course, one seeks that feeling of sitting with perfect strangers at one very large single table.
The order was taken in reasonable time. Those two waiters were very attentive and extravagance-free.
The smoky aroma curling up form grilled meat is possibly one of the best and most festive food smells. Often times steaks also have an inviting shine because of some "jus" poured on - or butter - before serving. Mine had beautiful griddle marks, but no shine. Dominating the smell wafting through the air were the fries, golden and crisp. One bite, and I surrender, with each potato batôn being as good as the previous one. This is perfection if you don't mind they're maybe too perfect; to the point you can guess la sœur hasn't been to the kitchen peeling and chopping potatoes herself. Well, I don't.
But my steak béarnaise awaits. I know that the right steak, in its purist Argentine form, requires nothing but a good sprinkle of salt. However, this is so not the case in too many restaurants these days. In fact, my friends and I have a repertoire of secrets to turn lean cuts into delicious steaks without having to use chemically-tasting sauces.
So I slice a bite-sized chunk. It's juicy and very tender to the knife. I take a moment or two to confirm that the centre is moistly pink, while the crust is desirably brown. Now, for the proof of the eating. I'm expectant this is going to blow me away to some Latin-American feast. Then again I take some time to double check, eyes focusing inward.
When you've had more steaks in your life than you will, flavour-less grilled meat can be such a disappointment. I'm left looking to my dish silently in confusion. At least, like for everyone else on this side of the globe, there's some hope in the béarnaise.
The price/quality ratio was relatively off. The two-course meal for two costed 72€ (63£), including two beers and 2 crèmes brûlées, much higher than la sœur's closest competitors. To be repeated in case of emergency only.
