Monopole

Overview

When chef Brent Savage and sommelier Nick Hildebrandt of Bentley Restaurant Group transplanted their moody-chic mod-French wine bar-cum-bistro Monopole from Potts Point to the CBD in 2020, the move also ushered in a change of identity. The brooding intimacy, dark decor and wine-bottle-stacked walls of the OG Monopole were replaced with soaring ceilings, a vibrant vermillion colour scheme, abstract pendant fixtures and floods of light through wall-to-wall windows. The menu also brightened, shifting from riffs on French favourites to a broader-spectrum pan-European offering, with Mediterranean, Middle Eastern and, oui, also French flourishes on the plate, alongside a thoroughly considered and impressively worldly wine list.

But it seems a passion for all things Français has been a hard obsession to shake. Monopole has come full circle, reaffirming its French affinity but now as a fine-diner, narrowing its focus to a repertoire of classic gourmet cuisine with a firmly tricolore-centric wine, aperitif and digestif selection to match. To be clear, Monopole has not merely joined the ample ranks of Sydney's many casual bistros and brasseries. What Savage and Hildebrandt are offering exists in an elevated strata almost of its own, serving elegant, seldom-seen dishes — quenelles, millefeuilles, vol-au-vents, bisques. These are plates of extraordinary finesse and technical virtuosity — French fare at its very finest.

"It's been something we've wanted to do for a while," Hildebrandt says of Monopole's French revolution. "Last year we opened King Clarence and the plan was always, after we've got that one up and running, we'll reimagine Monopole and bring together all the research and travel that has been inspiring us over the past few years."

Fans of Monopole 2.0 will be pleased to hear that the fitout of the venue's third incarnation remains almost unchanged, save for the introduction of a heavy velvet curtain by the entrance, some culinary objet d'art, a few framed vintage wine posters, some antique sconces and paper shades for a more intimate lighting design and the addition of crisp, white, linen table cloths. Likewise, while the tone of the food now on offer may have shifted, Hildebrandt insists, the change is less wholesale than it might appear.

"We've always been French, but in more of a neo-bistro type of way, like Septime in Paris — relaxed, unpretentious, less about tradition. That's what we've been doing for the past four years, essentially. But it feels like everyone's doing that now — even pubs are putting out modern French menus," he explains. "One of the big things we always ask ourselves in our business is how do we stay relevant? And if we just stuck to doing the same food that we've been doing for a decade, how is that keeping up with what's exciting diners, you know?"

During recent trips to France to research new dishes and the wines that will best pair with them, both Hildebrandt and Savage were struck by one emergent dining trend. "We've really been inspired by a move back to traditional recipes, but reinvigorated and reinvented — served with a modern lens. They're dishes that require a lot of skill, a lot of technique, really staying true to these old and very respected recipes. There are a lot of really cool restaurants in Paris right now that are doing this and we just felt so inspired to bring that to Sydney and to really make the identity of this food clear," Hildebrandt shares.

Indeed, clarity is a world that springs to mind as you dine at Monopole. A millefeuille d'anguille fume, exquisitely balances the sweet cellulose of a celeriac and apple remoulade with the velvet fattiness of smoked eel and a bite of horseradish, each carefully layered flavour corralled by the crisp counterpoint of three flakey layers of buttery pastry. Each bite is exact and precise — a crafted experience down to the last crumb.  The quenelle de poisson offers a similar masterclass in precision, the lightness and subtlety of the steamed marron mousse offering the perfect foil for the bright sweetness of a rich, red, shellfish bisque and the fleshy bite of a grilled marron tail daubed with tarragon butter.

Even the most familiar item on the menu — the burger de canard, which, just as it sounds, is a duck burger — is created with an elevated eye. Inspired by a snail burger Hildebrandt discovered on his Gallic travels, it is served with house-made pickles, comté cheese, hot sauce and a generous smear of light-as-a-feather duck liver parfait.

Monopole's wine list has been largely French-leaning for a few years now, but the new list fully embraces this Francophilia with both arms, expertly paired upon request. A wide selection of the verdant herbal liqueur chartreuse, all French-made, also star behind the bar, as well as in one of the more revelatory desserts. Much like its faint green colouring, the chartreuse granita with vanilla ice cream and apple is nuanced and delicate. It charms you with a whisper rather than a shout. And therein lies the crucial difference between the common bistro and the rare French restaurant — this cuisine doesn't need to be loud and crowd-pleasing. It's an elegant ballet not a raucous Can-Can. Each has their place, and Sydney, a city with Bistros and Brasseries aplenty, deserves to have both.