Le Severo

I have eaten in a lot of dining rooms that try this hard. Le Severo is one of the few that pulls it off without looking like it is trying.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: fourteenth-arrondissement neighborhood room, William Bernet at the pass. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.

We started with burrata with peaches and basil, 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: onglet, the dish that puts Le Severo on every short list. The crust was the colour of dark mahogany, and the inside was a confident, even pink the whole way through. The signature touch — the chalkboard wine list and the fries — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for pommes Anna and buttered haricots verts. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was key lime pie, mostly because the waiter raised an eyebrow when we hesitated. He was right to.

It is not cheap. It is, in this case, worth it.