Joe Beef is a place that was recommended to me all the way from Texas. Founded by chefs Frédéric Morin and David McMillan, the restaurant has established itself as a symbol of generous cuisine, blending North American steakhouse, French bistronomy, and seafood. On the menu, you’ll find the classics, along with daily specials such as that evening’s white asparagus dish, halibut, and a sea urchin starter.

The place is bursting with life. Sitting on a narrow stool along the oyster bar, my long legs struggle to find space; even an economy seat on Ryanair would feel luxurious by comparison. But very quickly, the briny aroma of freshly opened seafood takes over, while servers weave through a space optimized down to the last inch, regularly brushing past me in a slightly chaotic choreography. Nearby, some customers remain leaning on the bar, phones in hand, unintentionally contributing to a dense and noisy atmosphere.

The décor tells another story. A slightly faded British pub atmosphere, where the worn wood of the bar seems to have absorbed decades of conversation. Hanging fish and scattered maritime elements add to this somewhat aged charm, which is part of the restaurant’s identity.

My experience at Joe Beef

To start, I ordered two oysters of different sizes from Alabama, served with a house-made spicy sauce. The first, more substantial, reveals an interesting creamy texture. The second, smaller one stands out with a remarkable briny intensity, almost perfectly balanced. However, sourcing products from so far away does raise some concerns.

The dishes take time to arrive, several dozen minutes, even close to an hour. My second dish finally arrives: bone marrow. Visually impressive, but very modest in content. Barely two small spoonfuls of marrow. Slightly too salty on its own rather than delicately seasoned with fleur de sel, it finds some balance with the accompanying vegetable broth. The broth itself is simple, almost rustic, though a bit too acidic. The execution leaves a mixed impression, somewhere between frustration and simplicity.

The sourdough bread, charged as an extra, comes with a massive pickle and delicately salted butter.

The main course, however, redeems the experience. The duck, served rare, is coated in a rich and deeply flavorful green peppercorn sauce. The potatoes, cut into large rustic fries and perfectly crispy, are ideal for soaking up the sauce. A generous dish featuring a full duck breast brings the meal to a filling close.