A good steak is hard to find. One hardly ever orders steak in a restaurant these days, as it's likely to be tough, stringy or chewy. And there's the lurking idea that it requires no real cooking, therefore one is more likely to order battery-farmed chicken that's been marinated in chives and Pernod and gently steamed over a charcoal brazier ... in other words, it's been treated better dead than alive. (I have not eaten chicken in a restaurant since Easter, when I saw Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's galling Channel 4 documentary about intensive chicken farming).
Argentine cows are pampa'd (see what I did there?) and consequently give meat that cuts like butter and tastes like heaven. Argentinian steak houses were all the rage in the 1980s. I remember going to one in Paris during that Falklands business, where I had a well-lubricated meal with a bunch of Brits, and on departing we sang "God Save the Queen" and annoyed the owner terribly. Oh callow youth!
"Meet Meat" on rue Stevin is in an old Bruxellois house which has been totally modernized, and the interior is all clean lines, blond wood floors, minimalist black furniture and concealed lighting, to match the simple but informative menu. It was not quite warm enough to eat outside, but when it is, there is a delightful decking terrace out back.
There are various alternatives to beef on the menu, but let's face it, you go to a steak house for a steak. And Meet Meat does steaks to die for, in a choice of weights (200g, 250g, 300g) and cuts (rump, sirloin, fillet). The young, stylish, black-clad waiting staff who take your orders are efficient and helpful. Our waiter was however unable to tell us the name of the devastatingly handsome man in the fedora hat who was the subject of a Warhol-style print on the wall. "An actor ... and singer, I think ... dead now." It was (I later discovered) Carlos Gardel, Argentine heartthrob of the 50s and dance hall singer. Anyway, our waiter looked like a young Zidane, so I forgave him.
Carlos Gardel, not the waiterOur meat was cooked to perfection on the open kitchen grill, and served with a choice of fries or jacket potato, beurre Maitre-d'Hotel or chilli sauce, and salad. The meat, ladies and gentlemen, deserved a round of applause. It was divine. My five lady dining companions and myself actually stopped talking and did a fair impression of Meg Ryan in the restaurant scene of "When Harry Met Sally" for a bit, which goes to show how spectacular the meat was. Two of us had New Zealand lamb chops, and the rest of us had rump or sirloin steaks. After fifteen minutes or so there were six clean plates and six very happy tummies straining the already reinforced foundation garments. We certainly felt like we'd been Tango'ed.
We did however manage to find room for dessert, and from the list of usual suspects - Dame Blanche, Crème Brulée, etc. I chose a Speculoos ice cream, which was just the ticket to round off a delightful dinner. The bill came to about 30 euros a head, count a bit more if you have a starter.
This is no place for vegetarians or ecologists. The carbon footprint required to ship all that meat and wine in from Argentina and New Zealand would cover the entire Benelux region. But sometimes (as for example when eating foie gras) one has to suspend one's green principles in favour of one's taste buds. If you like your food simple but top quality, this is the place. To paraphrase the Rolling Stones, it's only steak and chips but I like it.
Meet Meat Rue Stevin 124 1000 Brussels Tel: 02 231 0742 www.meetmeat.be
