‘Glammed-up bordello appeal’: this southside bar is part of a trend we’ve fallen for

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Perhaps the most exciting Melbourne dining trend of late is the emergence of the side bar. This phenomenon, in which an established restaurant expands by opening a more casual, drinks-focused venue next door or nearby, is recently most commonly found next to some of our classic old-school spots.

In Carlton, the owners of Scopri have given us Bar Olo; in Prahran, the Entrecote team have opened Gigi Salon; and in South Yarra, France-Soir, the beloved French restaurant that functions as the neighbourhood’s living (and dining) room, has gifted us with the utter confection that is Le Splendide.

Of these three newcomers, only Bar Olo functions as a proper restaurant (so much so that it was recently named the Good Food Guide’s New Restaurant of the Year).

Both Gigi and Le Spendide are more like antechambers for the restaurants they sit alongside, a place to go for a drink before or after the main event, or to stop in for nibbles and cocktails rather than a full meal. But they’re both glorious in their own way, and Le Splendide, in particular, is an exciting update to one of Melbourne’s great dining institutions.

It’s fascinating to see the current design proclivities of owner Jean-Paul Prunetti. If France Soir is timeless in a classic early 20th century Parisian sense – mirrored and classy but pared-back and functional – Le Splendide is downright rococo, its deep red light shades and velvet chairs evoking a bawdier Belle Époque aesthetic.

In this way, Le Splendide reminds me less of Paris and more of New Orleans – a city with a strong French history that never let go of its glammed-up bordello appeal. A long zinc bar, cosy nooks in which to sit, and servers in salmon-coloured jackets make this place a fantasy that would be almost silly if it weren’t so damn appealing. Aside from the grandiosity of the whole, it’s the tiny details that seal the deal: the dainty linen napkins; the vintage French plates; the art deco-inspired coasters.

You’ll be tempted to flaunt all of this glamour on your Instagram grid, but it’s heavily discouraged – in fact, when they remember to do so, waiters place a heart-shaped sticker over your phone camera upon entrance. It won’t stop you from checking your email (or booking your annual camping trip, which I did while nestled in this velvet paradise), but it does help to encourage you to be in the here and now, to experience the beauty of the place in real time rather than as a notch on your social media belt.

If ever there were a wine list to build a room and bar around, a place purpose-built to indulge those of us who might want to partake of Prunetti’s collection without necessarily eating a full meal at France-Soir, this is the list. It’s pared back somewhat here, not the heavy tome that gets thunked onto your table next door. But even the abridged version, presented in a leather-bound booklet, would qualify as one of the best lists in town for the Francophiles among us.

It’s a thing of great fun and beauty, with a focus on lesser-known producers of Champagne, Jura, the Loir and Burgundy, and bottles priced from less than $100 to well into the thousands. I love that you can get a glass of 2013 Taittinger for $75 (or $690 for the bottle), which is the most extreme of a wide-ranging by-the-glass selection that doesn’t limit itself to the lower end of the spectrum.

Cocktails are all classics, presented in gorgeous, delicate vessels. The gin martini ($25) is perfectly icy and briny when asked for dirty, but I especially appreciated the Champs-Elysees ($26), a lesser-known classic that combines cognac with chartreuse and is bright and sneakily herbaceous.

The food menu is all snackage, nothing heartier than a slider-sized lobster roll ($14) that is a tad bread-heavy but if you ditch the top of the bun, the lobster meat underneath is fresh and sproingy. Gougeres ($3) are flaky and decadent, and a perfect foil for a glass of bubbles. Unsurprisingly, pâtés and the like are fantastic, in particular a meaty duck, pork and chicken terrine ($11) served with thin baguette toasts. Crisp slivers of baguette underpin much of the menu, including the simple yet perfect anchovies on toast ($12 for two).

You can get fat, fresh oysters ($6 each), which come with lemon and a slightly too-sweet raspberry mignonette, or, if it’s that kind of night, caviar service ($190-$295). Some of France-Soir’s classic dishes have been reimagined as bite-sized morsels here. The famed beef tartare, for example, is served as a quenelle over a lettuce leaf ($14).

Service is charming in that ineffable French way, but be sure to check your bill before you leave – I discovered later that I’d been charged for a couple of drinks I believe belonged to the table to my right. Honestly, I hope they enjoyed them – it was a small extra price to pay for an evening in this space, drinking good wine, gossiping over fun nibbles.

I hope Le Spendide becomes as much a part of the city’s life as its older sibling – and I hope the trend of the side bar never dies.