Indigo is a rare, old-breed of French bistro that seemingly couldn’t care less about social media or the opinions diners post there. Lengthy, one-star tirades  (“the hygeine,” “the service,” “the surly owner”) go unchallenged on Facebook. Clumsily ladled plates of beef bourguignon have never heard of Instagram and nor have the great globs of pasta that come with them. Don’t go looking for the restaurant’s official social media accounts because it doesn’t have them—or even a website.

Despite this, the wood-raftered dining room sags with marginally-sloshed customers most hours of the day. They come for carafes of Cotes du Rhone at B780, terrine de foie gras sliced like its going out of fashion, and food comas by way of cream and meat.

During our last visit—one that involved two carafes more than it was supposed to and a canceled afternoon appointment—an under-salted lobster bisque (B270) was the only place we found disappointment.

Asked to do a cheese souffle (B320), Indigo’s kitchen prepared a heavenly soft pillow of egg yolk and flour, floating in a pool of cream-and-garlic gooiness with a crispy tuile on the side.

When you watch other diners’ plates leave the kitchen, they’re always excessively large and make you think, “I wish I had room to eat that as well.” This is especially true of the cote de boeuf, which stands at about four inches thick and costs B1,850—or in other words, B1,000 less than tomahawks we’ve called “good value.” The meat will be tough and you’ll have to chew, but it will also be flavorful, have a peppery crust, and be accompanied by rich spoonfuls of red-wine sauce. Save at least some of the bearnaise for the dunking of your beautifully burnished fries, each one so crisp and golden you’ll want to get it before your dining companion does.

After all this, we doubt you’ll manage dessert, though should you, Indigo stamps its no-nonsense mark of authority with crepe Suzette, profiteroles and a decadently rich chocolate mousse that looks like a dog turd in a martini glass.

When it’s all over, an astute, just-that-little-bit pompous maitre’d will hand you a bill that’s usually around B2,000 a head or much less if you came for the B420 lunch sets. We can think of few better ways to spend the money. 

This review took place in April 2018 and is based on a visit to the restaurant without the restaurant's knowledge. For more on BK's review policy, click here.