Bistro Guillaume

THE original Bistro Guillaume closing its doors was a bit of a disappointment, partly because it meant mothballing the anecdote about the glass of ''something special but reasonably priced'' that turned up on the bill for $50, not to mention making the acquaintance of the $40 entree. A cavalier and mysterious approach to specials-list pricing made it a dangerous place to go off-piste. I rather liked the experience but my financial adviser warned against a repeat visit.

Bistro Guillaume mark II is both like and unlike its predecessor. It is truer to the bistro tag, something the original sometimes forgot, especially when it came to prices and the best-behaviour atmosphere and vertigo-inducing wine list.

It's still a repository of traditional French dishes that turn their back on 21st-century gastronomic developments. But, newly housed in the riverfront space vacated by Philippe Mouchel's Brasserie and injected with a more casual vibe, the collar finally matches the cuffs.

It's a challenge to present food so mired in cliche as something worth seeking out but Guillaume Brahimi somehow makes it feel new again. He injects ooh-la-la in the most honest of ways: great produce backed by impeccable technique, with elegant, unfussy presentation, in an environment diners ought to enjoy.

Beyond the entrance proscenium, painted a captivating shade of new-grass green, the dining room is light and airy, smartly turned out with dark-wood floors and linen-free tables, modernised bentwood chairs, enormous framed mirrors and wallpaper that imitates corrugated iron. The puffy brocade lights - like looking up someone's skirt, my lunch companion remarked - have been reprised from the old address, in the unstoppable Crown merry-go-round, now occupied by Spice Temple. The welcome addition of a covered terrace should help spread the Guillaume gospel.

On a temperature-challenged Friday night, a couple of families with young children were making the most of the gas heaters to avoid disturbing diners inside, where the atmosphere - unlike some of Crown's other flagship restaurants - is civilised rather than bawdy.

There's plenty to like here, not least the theatre of Brahimi, a man who looks as if he could crack a skull or two, putting his freshly baked quiche lorraine on the pass to cool. Or the all-day menu that starts at noon and goes until late. The croque-madame on the lunch list. The all-Victorian and French wine list that limits itself to a paltry 10 reds and 10 whites, all by the bottle or glass and topping out at $90. Or the staff, who are young and mostly engaging and happy to forgo - on what must be house orders - stuffy rituals such as table de-crumbing.

The best way to start a meal here is with oysters - surprisingly big Sydney rocks that are, quite simply, perfect served with a muslin-wrapped half-lemon and red-wine vinaigrette. Their shucking was clearly a very recent memory. A baguette from Noisette and unsalted butter play shortstop. Onion soup ($16) is topped with gruyere-covered croutons added at the last minute so the fried bread doesn't lose its crunch in the swampy, sweet-savoury depths that speak of proper stock and spot-on seasoning.

Steak tartare ($24) arrives with finely latticed potato wafers and a green thicket of herbs and leaves. The fillet's fine dice is texturally perfect but the seasoning errs towards the sweet side - a little more balance from spice and salt would have been good.

The biggest difference, food-wise, between Bistro Guillaumes I and II can be seen in the mains. Certain ingredients have been denied entry. You're not going to find anything tagged Wagyu here, or lobster salad, or a reference to foie gras.

But what the hey, go for the roast chicken, which - judging by the number of times it's called at the pass - is the No. 1 seller. It thoroughly deserves the status. For $35, you get half a bird with golden, salty skin and a satiny chicken jus with potato puree so creamy it's easy to suspect it takes Joel Robuchon's recipe and doubles the butter. It's exemplary, although you'll need to order greenery for the side.

The plats du jour wallow happily in tradition. Monday means duck parmentier and Tuesday is beef bourguignon but Thursday means cassoulet ($32), that time-honoured one-pot orgy of white beans, pork (belly and neck), confit duck and Toulouse sausage, finished with a golden lid of herby crumbs that arrives covered in a salt-flake snowstorm. Brahimi's dishes eschew wetness - you could stand a spoon in his celeriac veloute - and this is no different but what it misses in that soupy swamp factor it gains in the integrity of the proteins.

Dessert at a French restaurant is never a chore. Explain that paradox, if you will. Three light choux pastry profiteroles ($16) sandwiching vanilla ice-cream and drenched in warm chocolate sauce that the waiter pours at the table are tres bon. So is the wedge of lemon tart ($15) with a curd that deftly balances tartness and sweetness, housed in shortcrust pastry.

Crown is a fickle market but it's not difficult to feel confident about the future of the rebooted Guillaume. The food is delicious and it feels authentically in situ - in fact, the only way it would feel more Parisian is if the city of love installed fireballs along the Seine. These ridiculous hourly explosions should have the staunchest opponent of the carbon tax doing a rethink. But that, like the first incarnation of Bistro Guillaume, is another story.

14.5/20

Food French

Where Crown Promenade, Southbank

Phone 9292 7451

Cost Typical entree, $20; main, $34; dessert, $15

Licensed

Wine list Limited; 10 reds and 10 whites, all Victorian and French

We drank Mac Forbes Barbera (King Valley, Victoria), $12/$60

Owner Guillaume Brahimi

Chefs Guillaume Brahimi and Graeme McLaughlin

Wheelchairs Yes

Parking Paid

Vegetarian One entree

Service Happy

Noise Fine

Outdoors Yes, covered terrace

Web bistroguillaume.com.au

Cards AE DC MC V

Hours Daily, noon-late