Steak au Poivre: My Night at Raoul's

My friend Kristy and I were at Balthazar when we began the steak au poivre discussion. There was tension in the air anyway that night. A thousand dollar bet was even proffered by her regarding the authorship of Homebody/Kabul (Is she nuts betting me about that?). But when I announced that Balthazar had surprisingly yummy steak au poivre, she became sort of implacable, indignant almost.

She was like, "Yeah, ok." I could see about the look on her face. It's true, I wasn't quite sure if she was underscoring her already clear message to me, that our relationship should stay on platonic terms, or merely demonstrating her extreme exception with anything I might say that night. Look, she made no bones about it though, "Raoul's has the best steak au poivre in New York."

Although Kristy allowed that her steak was better than expected--our evening at Balthazar was eventually revealed to be about the creme brulee. Hey, if you are a creme brulee fan, do not miss Balthazar's. The thing is not just caramelized; it is hardened by the torch to an almost peanut-brittle consistency. The traditional tapping of the spoon on the surface does not break through with merely modest force. It just begins to sound like the tap-tap-tapping of the wood of the toe-shoes during a sweep across the stage of the corps de ballet. And the custard is super-vanilla with a confounding but satisfying combination of velvety with stiffened texture.

But here's the deal--Kristy was right about Raoul's. I guess I had simply forgotten how fucking delicious the steak au poivre is there. I forgot that it is one of the great standard dishes for me. Forgot that it is a sort of time-honored staple of New York nightlife.

I guess I haven't been there in I-don't-know-how-long because Raoul's always had a certain feel of integral downtown/artworld/hip-ifying of Soho experience. Two of my friends had, in fact, expressed concern that the place might have closed for business. No, we just haven't gone. I, however, will be back very soon. And soon again after that.

Why wouldn't I? The place is still cool, and it still feels great. The crowd: creative, fit, and ready to go out. The real reason though: I am a steak au poivre freak.

Freak! I will travel great distances and suffer the slings and arrows of culinary fate to follow down an au poivre sighting. And the steak au poivre at Raoul's is exactly what I want in the dish. The steak is well-marbled and, thank god, avoids the French cafe curse of toughness. But mostly--come on--the sauce is divine. They accomplish a piquant, slightly complex sauce combined with a richly peppered steak surface beautifully. Inimitably. It is spicy and rich and textured and leaves you in a sort of pepper-induced trance of flavor. I'm telling you--it is good good.

It is now 23 hours since I had my steak there. But I know you're not surprised I want another one--right now. I cannot wait to go back. And neither should you.