The best French restaurants in Melbourne

Melbourne's restaurant scene would be much the lesser without Philippe Mouchel. Our French elder statesman has ruled the Gallic roost since the 1980s and continues to delight at his Collins Street flagship. The roast chicken, skin bewitched to a dark gold on the rotisserie and accompanied by a buttery Paris mash, is a swoon-worthy triumph of real-deal flavour that deserves its signature dish status. But beyond the chicken liver and foie gras parfait and the amazing floating island dessert, you'll find modern technique adding its own oh la la, from the mozzarella emulsion with heirloom tomato gazpacho to the beetroot-cured salmon with creamed cucumber salad.

It could be the French bistro of cliché, but well into its fourth decade, France-Soir still feels like the real smoky-mirrored deal. Expect closely packed, linen-clad tables, wildly French-accented waiters, a hubbub that goes on until the witching hour (they close at midnight seven days, bless) and the very real chance of seeing captains of industry and visiting rock stars do their thing. They're not reinventing the envelope, but why should they? This is your go-to joint for steak frites, for freshly opened oysters, for pork terrine and leek tart and sea perch in a saffron-stained prawn bisque. As for the blast-from-the-past BYO policy during certain services — for that, France-Soir shall be truly blessed.

The highly ambitious project from Nomad Group has transformed Melbourne’s hallowed old Stock Exchange building into a European-inspired restaurant as ritzy as it is regal, with a speakeasy bar (the Rue part) accessible through an adjoining courtyard. The group’s executive chef Jacqui Challinor and head chef Brendan Katich (from Nomad Melbourne) have collaborated closely with Victorian producers to curate a menu that pays homage to the French classics with fresh Aussie flair.

Nobody would be shocked to hear that the cocktails at Bar Margaux are good. The CBD basement bar is part of the stable that includes the Everleigh and Heartbreaker, but there's also serious thought going into the food. Like the dark, moody and magnificent fit-out, the menu is a rollcall of classics, including the bordelaise-boosted cheeseburger of your dreams. What you might not expect in a watering hole where the kitchen's open until 3am (and beyond on weekends) is that you're going to get such a good French onion soup, credible steak frites or such a ridiculously rich lobster croque monsieur. 

One word: snails. Baked in their shells, the snails (sorry, escargot) at this Toorak stalwart arrive in a bubbling green parsley-accented garlicky ooze so deliciously pungent they scream "must order" to every table in this gloriously decorated salon. Pretend you're in the eleventh arrondissement over a spread of pan-seared foie gras, onion soup crowned with a gruyere crouton, confit duck lug and a classic beef bourguignon. The wine list similarly leans to France and deserves a special occasion splash-out.

This addition to Scott Pickett's growing Brady Bunch clan of restaurants is steeped in the romance of 1920s Paris, from a stage-set salon to please the most devout Francophile to a menu steeped in the certainties of snails, saucisson sec and soufflé. There's an extravagance about Smith St Bistrot, and we're not just talking about the $250 caviar service. Everything wears a patina of age, from the enormous, artfully distressed mirrors to the minutiae of mismatched crockery. It's beguiling – as is the wine list, which has affection for both Australia and the Old World across a huge price range.