I’ve had admittedly mixed experiences with the new wave of neo-bouillons and brasseries. Bouillon Pigalle was the first to conquer my heart and stomach with its criminally cheap egg-mayo, wonderfully gelatinous tête de veau, and rich braised lamb with beans. I fell just as hard for Bouillon République at first, thanks to its lovely Auvergnat play on French onion soup and simple yet herbaceous leek-vinaigrette, but when I returned, I found the service harried and the food ho-hum, especially a stuffed tomato the approximate size and texture of a baseball. I had a similarly disjointed experience at Brasserie Rosie, where on my first visit, the lentil salad with pickled shallot and Greek yogurt was so tasty we ended up ordering a second round. But when I returned, the saucisse purée I’d loved previously seemed like a completely different dish, and the fried Camembert wedges were greasy and unappetizing.
(I promise all this whingeing has a point.)
A handful of the neo-brasseries are owned by the same company, the Nouvelle Garde group, and I’ve now been to three of them: Dubillot, Des Prés, and Bellanger. At Dubillot, I was happy with the saucisse-purée, though it didn’t dethrone the one at Les Arlots or the first pass at Rosie. At Brasserie des Prés, I was bowled over by the exquisite French onion soup… and pretty horrified by the overcooked, over-salted fish of the day. Now that I’ve visited Bellanger, I feel I can finally offer a balanced opinion.
All of these brasseries are united in their more-is-more approach to décor, their all-day service, and their quality-driven mindset when it comes to the sourcing of their ingredients. Each menu includes a list of Trouvailles (aka Things on a Plate) sourced from all over France: tinned organic sardines from Port Saint-Louis-du-Rhone with seaweed butter (12), 18-month-old Comté slivers (7), truffled dry-cured sausage from the Tarn (10). I’ve systematically skipped these in favor of the appetizers with a bit more cooking behind them, which include rare French-raised snails – a bargain at 12 euros for six.
This time around, I opted for the leek-vinaigrette (7), which I’d fallen hard for at Dubillot. This dish encapsulates the maximalist mentality, with a plate of deeply charred leeks topped with an intensely mustardy vinaigrette, deeply toasty breadcrumbs, generous chunks of hazelnuts, and a handful of bitter leaves. It’s perhaps my favorite iteration of the dish in the city… and I eat a lot of it. It was just as delicious at Bellanger as it had been at Dubillot.
Mains skew similarly classic, with steak-frites (16), duck breast with pears, spices, and root veg (25), or blanquette de veau (21) joined by an ever-changing fish (19) or vegetarian dish of the day (17). On weekend afternoons, a few special options join these offerings, including roast beef (20) and roast chicken (17), kind of in the vein of a British Sunday roast. Both dishes are designed to share, though you can also order a portion for one. As two of us ordered the chicken, we were presented with a half of a golden bird sitting pretty in a puddle of rich gravy.
I had to do a bit of battle to separate the chicken into quarters, but once I had, I was rewarded with one of the best roast chickens I’ve had in recent memory: tender and richly flavored, especially when paired with that richly reduced sauce. The crispy golden fries were the perfect accompaniment, though there were also generous baskets of Poujaran bread.
Another offering reserved for weekend lunchtime is the Egg Muffin (12), a homemade English muffin split and filled with either bacon or fried portobello mushrooms. Garnished generously with melted cheddar, homemade hollandaise, and just the right amount of bread-and-butter pickles, it’s the perfect option the morning after a night of raucous Parisian fun.
I’m pleased to report that the issues I had with the fish of the day on my visit to Des Prés did not follow to Bellanger. Here, flaky coley (19) was steamed then pan-seared for a crispy crust. The fish was then settled into a shellfish bisque and served with celery root purée and crispy panisses. A touch of lemony rouille was drizzled over the top.
I’d like to say that all of my misgivings with this group have disappeared, but unfortunately, one sticking point remains. The service here is resolutely casual bordering on absent, and multiple times, I had to get up to fetch a server who was ignoring us far more than is acceptable by Parisian standards. The incredibly reasonable prices and seven-day-a-week, all-day opening hours nevertheless make it easy to recommend, especially for folks looking for somewhere to go on a Monday, when nearly everything in Paris is closed.
Brasserie Bellanger – 140, rue du Faubourg Poissonnière, 75010