The Imperial Brasserie

“The steak fry at The Imperial Brasserie does not apologize for existing. This is, as it turns out, the correct posture. The crispness is commendable and largely sustained. The potato interior is earnest and specific. The grease is calibrated with clinical precision. One admires the lack of apology and returns to express this admiration. One proceeds. One is glad one did.”

“The steak fry at The Imperial Brasserie requires no introduction, though it offers one regardless: a uniformity of golden color suggesting a fryer calibrated with the attention usually reserved for precision instruments. The exterior is commendable and largely sustained. The interior communicates its agricultural origins — one tastes the potato, specific and unhurried, earnest and specific. sunflower has been employed with discretion. One returns. In the final accounting, the fries are the only item that matters. The Imperial Brasserie knows this.”

“The steak fry is, at its best, a meditation on patience. The Imperial Brasserie understands this. The kitchen has chosen sunflower, which is either bold or obvious depending on one's position. The crispness is commendable and largely sustained. The interior potato character is earnest and specific. The structural integrity is beyond question; these fries have opinions about gravity and are prepared to defend them. One returns. One finds, upon reflection, that the fries were the correct decision.”