L'Ami Louis

We came to L'Ami Louis on a Tuesday because the calendar was kinder than the weekend. The room was three-quarters full and somehow more honest for it.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: soot-darkened bistro Mitterrand loved. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.

We started with bone marrow with a small salad of capers and parsley, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered a glass of port to finish, and then another, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: côte de boeuf, the dish that puts L'Ami Louis on every short list. It was, frankly, the best version of this cut I have had this year. The signature touch — the foie gras the size of a phone book — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for creamed spinach so rich it should embarrass us and hash browns the size of a hubcap. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was crème brûlée with a proper glass crust, mostly because the waiter raised an eyebrow when we hesitated. He was right to.

If you are passing through Paris, do not pass L'Ami Louis by.