A Cut Above the Expected: Le Grand Grill, James Roberts and the enduring appeal of the French steakhouse.
The steakhouse is one of dining's more enduring institutions. Its vocabulary is familiar: Fire, beef, salt, sauce, a bottle opened with the expectation that nobody will be in a hurry. Yet familiarity can be a formidable adversary. When the premise is so uncomplicated, there is nowhere for a kitchen to hide. The quality of the experience rests on judgement, i.e. the cut chosen, the precision of its cooking, the company it keeps on the plate and, not least, what finds its way into the glass.
Roland Barthes recognised something of this cultural significance in his essay Steak and Chips, part of Mythologies. To him, the steak was more than sustenance; it was an emblem, carrying associations of appetite, strength and a particularly French idea of pleasure. The steakhouse has since travelled well beyond France, acquiring local customs and identities along the way.
At Le Grand Grill, in Brighton-Le-Sands, the French inheritance meets Australian beef, with a further influence that makes the combination rather more interesting.
Located within The Brighton Hotel, Le Grand Grill makes an immediate impression without resorting to spectacle. A circular bar gives the room its centre of gravity, while warm timber, quartz surfaces and low lighting create an atmosphere conducive to an evening that can comfortably outlast the meal itself. The design has a European sensibility, but the setting belongs unmistakably to its own stretch of Sydney. There is something appealing about finding this sort of dining proposition away from the familiar gravitational pull of the inner city.
The kitchen is led by James Roberts, with Peter Conistis involved in the venture in a supporting role. Their professional relationship spans several previous collaborations, including Omega, Civic Dining and Ammos. Roberts brings considerable experience from Sydney kitchens, but the more revealing influence on his cooking comes from home. Born in Algeria, his mother brought a distinctly French-inflected culinary sensibility into the family home, instilling in him an early appreciation of the interplay between heritage, spice and the subtleties of flavour.
That inheritance gives the menu a more individual character than its French references might initially suggest. Harissa and sauce Algérienne sit alongside classical preparations and the familiar grammar of the grill. It is an interesting meeting of culinary traditions, and one that gives Roberts room to move beyond the well-rehearsed conventions of the French steakhouse.
The opening dishes offer a sense of that approach. Sydney rock oysters with cabernet mignonette are a lovely start, while dry-aged steak tartare with capers and anchovy brings the pleasures of the French bistro to the table. Roast bone marrow, accompanied by cucumber salad and harissa yoghurt, is a more unexpected combination. The marrow's richness is offset by the freshness of the cucumber, with the yoghurt introducing a little heat.
It is a pleasing exercise in contrast, and a good example of how a familiar ingredient can be given another dimension without unnecessary complication. The dish also offers a glimpse of the creative exchange between Roberts and Conistis, whose contribution brings an additional dimension to the composition.
The menu's breadth is appealing, but the grill is where the restaurant must ultimately make its argument. The beef selection ranges across cuts and producers, including Tajima Denver, Westholme Wagyu flank and Chauvel's citrus-fed bone-in striploin. There is enough variety to encourage a more adventurous choice than the usual procession of fillet, sirloin and rib-eye. Provenance has its place, as does marbling, but neither is a substitute for the kitchen's ability to cook the meat.
We opted for the Tajima Denver and Kidman rump, both cooked medium rare. Each arrived tender, impeccably seasoned and precisely cooked. There is little to embellish: The quality of a steakhouse is ultimately revealed in the cooking, and here the kitchen demonstrated a sure hand.
The accompaniments are given welcome attention. Beef-fat potatoes with red wine and rosemary have considerably more personality than the automatic appearance of fries. Truffled pomme purée, petits pois à la française and butter lettuce with persillade vinaigrette bring different textures and degrees of richness to the table.
The sauces deserve more than a passing mention. Foyot brings a velvety, buttery richness; the bone marrow red wine offers a darker, more concentrated depth; while smoked anchovy butter introduces a savoury, gently saline edge. Each draws out a different quality in the beef, from its richness to its char, without overwhelming the meat. Alongside them, the accompaniments provide contrast in texture and freshness, lending the plate a sense of balance. These are the details that distinguish a kitchen with an understanding of the pleasures of a steakhouse from one content simply to serve a good cut of beef.
Then there is the wine. In fact, the cellar is one of Le Grand Grill's most compelling reasons to visit.
Curated by sommelier Michael Skyllas, the list is substantial, with approximately 400 selections and more than 100 French wines. Burgundy, Bordeaux and the Rhône receive serious attention. Jean-Louis Chave, Domaine Jamet and Auguste Clape are among the Rhône names that will attract the informed drinker, while Meursault, Puligny-Montrachet and mature Premier Cru selections give Burgundy considerable presence. Château Musar provides a welcome diversion from the familiar French geography.
The Icons with Icons programme is a particularly enticing feature, bringing a selection of rare and distinguished bottles within reach by the glass. It allows diners to venture beyond the familiar without committing to an entire bottle, while giving the sommelier licence to introduce wines that might otherwise remain confined to the cellar. After all, a wine list earns its distinction not simply through the names it assembles, but through the opportunities it affords to explore, compare and occasionally be surprised.
Our own choices lent the evening a pleasing sense of progression. Louis Roederer Champagne set the opening note, followed by an especially compelling Sancerre from Alphonse Mellot and an Egon Müller Riesling. The arrival of the steaks called for something with greater presence, and Te Mata Coleraine, poured from magnum, proved an assured companion. A sequence spanning Champagne, the Loire, Slovakia and New Zealand, it offered welcome variety before finding its natural conclusion alongside the beef.
The Coleraine was a particularly satisfying choice, and the magnum added a generosity to the occasion that smaller formats rarely quite replicate. There is something inherently sociable about tapping into a large bottle. It invites another pour, encourages conversation and subtly alters the arithmetic of departure. One begins to regard the evening as having considerably more potential than the original reservation might have suggested.
Brighton-Le-Sands lends Le Grand Grill a setting with a character all its own. Its established dining culture and proximity to the water offer a welcome alternative to Sydney’s familiar inner-city circuit, while its home within The Brighton Hotel, with Ammos occupying the floor above, adds further breadth to the address. There is every opportunity for the restaurant to draw diners from beyond the immediate neighbourhood. Whether it does so will be determined less by the novelty of its arrival than by what follows, i.e. the consistency of the kitchen, the generosity of the hospitality and the desire to return.
A French-influenced steakhouse succeeds through the quality of its produce and the judgement with which it is handled. The beef must be first-rate, the sauces thoughtfully composed, the accompaniments given due attention and the wine list sufficiently compelling to extend the pleasures of the table beyond the grill. Le Grand Grill brought these elements together with confidence during our visit.
Its identity, however, reaches beyond the familiar steakhouse formula. James Roberts draws on French culinary tradition and his own Algerian heritage to give the menu a distinctive perspective, while the breadth of the beef selection and the depth of the cellar provide good reason to return. There is ambition in the proposition, but its appeal lies in the kitchen's ability to translate it into an assured and thoroughly enjoyable experience.
The abovementioned Roland Barthes saw the steak as a cultural emblem. At Le Grand Grill, its enduring appeal is rather less abstract. The Tajima Denver and Kidman rump arrived as they should, the Coleraine was poured from magnum, and the evening unfolded without much inclination to consult the clock.
Perhaps that is the most reliable measure of a good steakhouse. Not how loudly it announces its credentials, but how readily it persuades you to stay for one more glass.
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Words by AW.
Photo courtesy of Le Grand Grill.
