French waiters are ready to greet you, as you step through the doors, I felt as though I had been whisked away to a bistro in Paris, kudos to my date for taking care of the whisking.
French food is both romantic and indulgent and I hadn’t even tasted dessert yet. Wine to begin and then the entree was served almost immediately. My order was the mackerel with carrots and kipfler potatoes in a truffle vinaigrette and if that wasn’t delicious enough, my date and I swapped so I could try a French specialty, duck liver pate, onion jam and mustard with sourdough toast.
My expectations were lifted to another level with each course. The butchers steak with Roquefort sauce was cooked to perfection, as was my kingfish. Thinking about it, I just want to whiz back in time for the first bite.
But, the pes de resistance was dessert. My vanilla creme brulee was to die for, the sweet crispy coating cracked into the smoothest most delicious cream. Heaven. I could’ve ordered four more happily, but gluttony is a sin.
Leaving the beautiful Victorian villa where L’etoile is set I forgot I was walking out onto the streets of Sydney.
Pictures to come.