As part of a site-visit, I had the pleasure of visiting Bon Ap’ Petit Bistro in Fitzroy. This is a review. So, I am going to write what I thought about the food and place. Also, this post is not sponsored – I wish it was.
Brunswick Street is a hectic place. I mean, it is a long road, and there are a lot of things happening on it and around it (when you cross the road you have to look out for both trams and cars, enough said). Known for its quirky, cutting-edge cafes and vintage boutiques (also known as Melbourne-hispter-haven), most of the food joints donning the street boast either the latest vegan foodie trends or an intentionally cool exposed-brick exterior to match. And then, there is Bon Ap’ Petit Bistro.
Tucked in between two very grey-walled retailers sits this quaint triple-threat of a food node – “Cafe – Restaurant – Wine Bar” proudly etched into its banners. The smells and sounds leaking out of the wooden doors (wood – not exposed brick, ground-breaking!) transport your senses to some imagination of sipping wine and nibbling croissants just before your eyes catch a glimpse of the elegant print on the marquee – “Bon Ap’ Petit Bistro.”
Bon appetit.
It’s French.
Like, literally.
A waiter dressed in a striped blue-and-white tee-shirt (an ode to la marinière) guides you towards a cosy nook. There is an extensive shelf of wine on display. Matched only by the baked goods propped up on the bar counter just below it. Jazz vocals croon out French lyrics over the kitchen shouting out to the wait staff (in French again, of course).
The menu itself boasts a more ‘relaxed’ and ‘contemporary’ take on French dining, while maintaining its authentic, home-cooked feel. Yet, the prix fixe menu offered during the lunchtime rush hour speaks volumes about the reputation of formality (as articulated by Brillat-Savarin) held by French dining (at least in Australia) for a set-menu to be considered somewhat casual.
Nevertheless, the punch of garlic in the escargot (do snails count as seafood? please tell me yes), and the stringent yet fatty acidity of the steak tartare, all infused in some notion of warm, comforting butter, speak to a kind of French nostalgia. Even if you did not grow up with French food, or have never been to France for that matter, Bon Ap’ lives up to its promise to make you feel like French in Fitzroy. It all somehow feels a little bit like coming home.
fish & bread * poisson et pain 