There should be a graph (or something) showing the ideal relationship between the quality of a restaurant and its location. No one wants to travel to the far-flung 20th for ho-hum food, but people are more than willing to put up with eating something that’s just fine if it’s only steps from the Eiffel Tower. All this to say, while I’ve got loads of perfectly acceptable recommendations in the first five arrondissements of Paris, if you take location out of the equation, the commendable spots quickly evaporate. So I was doubly excited to discover a place mastering steak-frites – a dish I frequently find overrated – in the heart of the historic Marais.
Robert et Louise has been hiding in plain sight for nearly 70 years – and I won’t apologize for overlooking it until now. With its picturesque wooden façade on prime real estate on rue Vieille du Temple, Robert et Louise could easily get away with being a tourist trap and still fill up every evening. And yet despite the overwhelming charm of its upstairs dining room, windows bedecked with gingham curtains, it turns out this spot is delivering truly delicious grilled specialties.
The owner tends to hold court at the wraparound bar; he’s the one who will decide if you’re destined to sit in the, cozy upstairs dining room with a view of the roaring fire at the back, where pretty much all of the meat-focused dishes are cooked, or be banished to the downstairs, with its vaulted stone ceilings and bric-a-brac driven décor.
While a number of appetizers are on offer, including boudin noir (10), escargots (11), and a variety of charcuterie, we ultimately opted to go straight for the meat. Char-grilled offerings include lamb chops (25), wild prawns flambéed in Pastis or Cognac (27), and a whole duck breast with honey (32), not to mention a few offal-driven choices like veal kidneys (25) and andouillette (20). But we were here for beef – and that meant we still had a few options to choose from. Heftier portions include a 400-gram t-bone (36) or a 1-kilo beef rib for two (68), and on the night of our visit, there was also a bavette special with shallot sauce (24). But the 300-gram entrecôte (25) seemed like the way forward, and we were not disappointed.
As is often the case in France, there are really only two cuissons on offer: saignant and à point. My dining companion had the latter, while I opted for the former, and both of us were happy with the rosy, hot interiors of our steaks, which were pleasantly fatty (a rarity in a country reared on grass-fed beef), tender, and super flavorful.
However you want the steak cooked (or, indeed, no matter which main you pick), you get a choice of two among three sides: sautéed potatoes, green beans, or green salad. The green salad is perfectly nice, dressed in a zingy vinaigrette, and the beans are exactly as they should be. But the potatoes are undoubtedly the king of the side dishes. They’re pan-cooked until perfectly caramelized on the outside and tender and fluffy within, and to my mind, they far outrank frites in terms of deliciousness.
Not offering frites is not the only way that this steak deviates from the norm. Most steak-frites are served with some sort of sauce, be it au poivre, bearnaise, or a shallot reduction. Here, the beef is very much the star, served unadorned and relatively under-seasoned. Given the presence of this charming pepper grinder on each table, not to mention flaky grey salt, mustard, and a more traditional salt and pepper shaker, I’m convinced that this is by design.
While Robert et Louise could certainly have stopped while they were ahead, it turns out there are even more reasons to love this cozy little restaurant. Firstly, they have a vegetarian offering that isn’t an afterthought: a seasonal mushroom omelette (15). You can even choose the cuisson here, and trust me, you want it baveuse (literally: drooling). A tender, soft French omelette is a thing of beauty, particularly when paired with top-notch baguette from Tout Autour du Pain a few blocks away.
And to top it all off, the the service here is exceptional. While the boss is indeed a bit gruff, it feels almost like a put-on, and the remaining staff proves attentive and genial, appearing with new water carafes or bread baskets before you even have a minute to realize they’ve gone empty.
But wait… there’s more!
If you’ve managed to save room, Robert et Louise also offers an array of classic French desserts, of which we tried three. I am not usually a custard girlie, but even I was impressed with this crème brûlée (8), which was far from too sweet and positively teeming with tiny black specks of Madagascar vanilla.
The chocolate mousse (8) was airy and light; I’d guess it’s completely devoid of the cream that most versions rely on for richness. As a result, it’s pretty much just chocolate-flavored foam – and I say that as a strict compliment.
My favorite, however, was a seasonal apple crumble (10) – emphasis on the crumble. About a 60/40 ratio of buttery, almond-strewn crumble to fruit was paired with an unapologetically industrial squirt of whipped cream. And you know what? I enjoyed every bite.
Robert et Louise – 64, rue Vieille du Temple, 75003