The best beef in town right now isn’t a $140 porterhouse at jumbo steakhouses like Peter Luger or Wolfgang’s. It’s $28 skirt steak at Laurent Tourondel’s new Skirt Steak — where it’s the only thing on the menu. It is simply, ridiculously spectacular. I haven’t had such a mouth-watering steak in years.
For good measure, the steak comes with unlimited French fries and a Matterhorn-shaped and -sized green salad worthy of a fine French restaurant.
Tourondel, the brilliant chef who created the BLT Steak chain with which he’s no longer involved, is a man of many business models. He’s also the owner of restaurant L’Amico and bar-lounge the Vine, both neighbors of Skirt Steak in the Eventi Hotel, as well as a manager and consultant at venues around the US.
Skirt Steak is something new for him: He’s bet the ranch on a single dish that either thrills the dining millions, or kills the place off just like that. The lines stretching down the sidewalk suggest how the story will end.
Skirt steak, a thin, flat cut from the diaphragm muscle that’s cheaper than ribeye and filet mignon, is often tougher than it is tasty. But Tourondel’s version is merely toothsome and delightfully chewy.
The beef was originally sourced from Niman Ranch. But now, due to the high demand, it comes from “a select group of producers of the same quality,” the restaurant’s representative said. But after a first taste I couldn’t care whether it came from Mars. (American Wagyu is sometimes available as a special for an additional cost.)
The steak arrives sliced in five strips and a pool of jus, after having been lightly marinated and nicely broiled. The exact marinade is as secret as a Bitcoin password, but I’m damned if I didn’t taste hoisin and soy sauces. The restrained Asian background made flavor fireworks with the musky complexion of irregular, toothsome char. Peppercorn Béarnaise is the only sauce option and the only one you’ll need: Presented in a small side vessel, it adds to the poly-culinary pleasure.
The one-price, one-steak format started in NYC with Midtown’s Le Relais de Venise L’Entrecote in 2011. It’s currently closed, but my memories of its mediocre entrecote don’t remotely compare with Tourondel’s skirt inspiration.
Each steak is served rare, medium or well-done (no in-between gradations). I recommend medium, but be aware: Mine was red enough for many people to consider it rare. Very French! But it wasn’t the least bit tough.
The sides live up to the steak. The crisp fries, which they refill at no extra cost in the unlikely event you can finish them, and the mountain of even crisper Boston lettuce, perfectly dressed in shallot vinaigrette, will make you glad you came. Colorful, high-caloric pies and cakes displayed on a cart are also available.
Still, for all the restaurant’s delights, its nuisances are many. The room resembles a bare-bones barn of plain wood from floor planks to ceiling rafters. There’s no coat check and there are no table or chair cushions to blunt the roar of a rock soundtrack.
No reservations are taken. Lone diners must sit at the square bar in the middle of the room as I did. And, share-plate lovers be warned — there are none. Everyone must order his or her own individual meal for $28.
My 8-ounce steak was four ounces more than I could finish. But the part they nicely boxed up for me made a marvelous next-day lunch at home — and a reminder to go back.
