I’ve always been a bit of a food snob, something that happens quite naturally when your mother is an exceptional home cook. When I turned up at university only to find that most people are quite happy to eat Lean Cuisine, I taught myself to cook – quickly. And when I moved to France just two years later, food became a major bridge to French culture.
That said, I was definitely not going out to fancy restaurants in my first few years in Paris. When I did go out, it was mainly to four places: Dong Huong for pho, Breakfast in America for pancakes, Le Centenaire for steak-tartare, and Black Dog, an Argentinian steakhouse hidden behind a metal bar at Châtelet. It was a “concept” before concepts existed, and my friends and I loved it, not just for the ambiance but for the steaks, which you ordered based on the size and the corresponding dirty name.
While some of my original loves (like 83-cent sparkling wine) have revealed themselves to be less appetizing with time, other former stalwarts remain just as good as I remember. Dong Huong’s pho, while double the price, is just as redolent with coriander and star anise; as far as I know, Breakfast in America still makes stellar pancakes. And I truly believed the same would be true of Black Dog when I dragged a fellow foodie there a few weeks ago. After all, the beef is still sourced from Argentina and Uruguay, making it far more marbled than the grass-fed steaks we subsist on in Paris.
The beef admittedly wasn’t the problem.
First of all, the service was appallingly molasses-slow. While the dining room is relatively small, with just ten tables, it took our appetizers well over 20 minutes to arrive – and yet they still made it to the table long before our apéritifs.
The bone marrow (10) was actually pretty delicious, with a generous garlic topping and just the right amount of salt. The warm bread wasn’t so much crusty as it was stale, but the fresh, room temperature bread was a good enough substitute.
Unfortunately, this appetizer would prove to be the most delicious thing we’d eat all night.
I’m admittedly not the biggest empanada girl, but these fried dough pockets (7.50 for two) proved perfectly fine. While the ham-and-cheese one was mid; the corn one was actually pretty good, marrying sweet corn and cheese.
My friend ordered the Peine de Mort (punishment): 600 grams of Argentinian entrecôte. It was tasty and well-marbled but overcooked – unsurprising once we realized that everything was being cooked in what was essentially a steam oven. The potatoes are unlimited and were perfectly fine, but not worth doubling up on.
In an attempt to try as many options as possible, I ordered the Triplette (35), which features 100 grams each of Uruguayan entrecôte, Argentinian faux-filet, and Uruguayan lomo. One of them – that dark one there – was actually really good. Unfortunately, I have no idea which one it was, because when I asked my server, she didn’t either, saying something incomprehensible about pressing on it with a knife tip to assess its tenderness. When I pushed back, she took my knife and identified it as the faux-filet, but I could see quite clearly by comparing with my friend’s plate that she was wrong. By powers of deduction (pretty sure the one on the left is lomo), I think this was the faux-filet, and while similarly overcooked, it was flavorful, juicy, and well-marbled. The other two were fine.
The French typically rely quite a bit on sauces to help their steaks along, and I was intrigued by the panoply of options. You get one free sauce with each steak, with each additional sauce costing a euro and a sampler costing 3 euro. Since only five were listed on the menu and we got six, I’m not entirely sure what each of them was. All I can share – and I do not say this lightly – is that each one was equally disgusting.
I cannot tell if this is a case of my memories betraying me, the place going downhill, or an unfortunate evening of bad service rendering a perfectly serviceable and vibey restaurant mid for a day. All I can say is that unfortunately Black Dog did not make it onto my recent list of the best steaks-frites in Paris, and I probably will not be returning any time soon.
Black Dog – 26 Rue des Lombards, 75004