By Marie-Antoinette Issa.
There are hospitality operators so brilliantly committed to the craft that you witness a grown man jog down the southern end of Lygon Street mid-service to secure a bottle of Amaretto because, well, "that’s what the customer (ie me) asked for!”
Welcome to 98 Lygon St Bar & Bistro - a neighbourhood gem that just went from ‘European-inspired’ to ‘European in spirit, stubbornness and sheer heart’ with one swift pour…
After scoring a sneak preview of the newly opened courtyard, which frankly felt like stepping into a sun-drenched space somewhere between Arles and a coastal Corsican village (minus the passport panic), I was convinced that Google Maps had mistakenly redirected my requested route to Brunswick East to a destination where most men would typically don a skinny moustache without a hint of irony and where all women wore white trousers and red lipstick.
Said guests were not in attendance that afternoon. Replaced instead by edgy locals committed to a black jeans and leather jacket combo. However, their natural habitat of white-washed walls, linen-draped tables fluttering in the breeze, chilled Parisian lo-fi beats and the shade of a 50-year-old olive tree offering sanctuary so you could sit, sip and sup something, certainly was.
Several - hours of - Spritzes later, with the sunset dropping quicker than a Vespa zipping through cobbled street (and swiftly offering a reminder that I was in fact in Melbourne and not Marseille), I did what any discerning woman who hadn’t packed a suitable designer scarf would do…I relocated and settled into the moody main dining room for peak Saturday night dinner service.
Here, the decor was all dim lighting and deep timber accents - punctuated by the hum of conversations under a low ambient glow that made everything (and everyone) look and sound instantly more intriguing. Even without the aforementioned olive tree in sight, the energy carried that same European charm.
It was here that I connected with Ben Clark - co-owner, front-of-house hero and, as it turns out, future recipient of my ‘Most Committed Beverage Professional’ award - and requested what any self-respecting diner would under such European-bistro-inspired conditions: an Amaretto Sour.
He winced. They didn’t stock Amaretto.
Disaster. Tragedy. I briefly considered emotional damage compensation.
However, Ben (likely supported by his fellow co-owner Simon Aukett) pivoted faster than a Parisian waiter avoiding eye contact. With decades spent refining their hospitality instincts at London’s top venues, including Rockwell Bar, Soho House, Mondrian, Zetter, Ben and Simon conspired to deliver an alternative cocktail so silky, so perfectly balanced, I almost forgot my original request.
A shimmering La Renaissance - "like drinking a Summer strawberry cloud” - appeared with a wink. Light, airy and teasingly romantic, it softened the blow. I sipped. I sighed. I forgave. Crisis averted.
Then the food arrived.
Head Chef Brian Macalister - whose resume reads like a Michelin scavenger hunt (Ynyshir in Wales, The Pig’s Ear and Chapter One in Dublin, plus Melbourne stints at Cutler & Co and The Builders Arms) - has crafted a menu that’s part bistro soul, part coastal holiday, all executed with the precision of someone who’s middle name could have been Jaques.
Crudites with a verdant 98 Bagnet Verde arrived first: chilled, crisp vegetables dressed like they were headed to a Riviera garden party. Shell-baked scallops followed, swimming in decadent wild garlic butter.
A shallot tart tatin, sticky and caramelised, layered with Dijon mustard and mizuna, landed next - every bite a masterclass in balance between sweetness, savoury depth and that signature mustardy heat.
The market fish came resting in a silken leek beurre blanc that clung like satin and, if the cote de boeuf (MB4 Cape Grim) with bearnaise and frites was designed to be shared, nobody informed my fork.
Just as we were fighting over the last spoonful of silky creme brûlée, Ben reappeared. He placed a glass before me. A familiar hue. A familiar scent. A top-up cocktail…unmistakably Amaretto-fuelled.
"You left me no choice,” he grinned. "Customer service is serious business.”
Reader, the man had literally left the building during service to find the bottle and the cocktail? A reimagined sour - still tart, still velvety, but with that distinctive toasted almond warmth only Amaretto delivers. Somehow both a resolution and a statement piece. Cheeky. Bold. Slightly reckless. In other words: pure 98 Lygon St.
So, basically, if your bistro owner doesn’t sprint into the night to satisfy an Amaretto craving it may be time to rethink your booking - because at 98 Lygon St, hospitality doesn’t just walk you in with a warm welcome…it’s willing to run up the road to ensure you have a memorable night.
