In praise of the brasserie

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2013/jan/16/praise-brasserie-new-york-balthazar

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You would think a Parisian could tell you what makes a brasserie. But according to American food writer Daniel Young, you would be wrong. "They really don't know," says Young, who mapped the French capital's traditional restaurant scene for his book of recipes, The Bistros, Brasseries and Wine Bars of Paris.

So vague is the definition that Young devised a 20-point checklist to distinguish between eateries: if it serves more than five wines by the glass, it is a wine bar. If the menu changes seasonally, it is a bistro. If, however, there is a continuous food offering throughout the day, fast service, tablecloths, uniformed waiters carrying trays, draft beers – a marker of their origins as 19th-century microbreweries – and the diners are packed in tightly together, it is a brasserie.

By that definition, there is little doubt that Balthazar, the London outpost of the famed New York joint, which opens in Covent Garden next month, is going to be the real thing. The original Balthazar, launched in Manhattan in 1997 by London-born restaurateur Keith McNally, does indeed have a rapid all-day service, waiters carrying trays, and a menu that would make the denizens of any upmarket arrondissement nod with approval. It is wall-to-wall escargot, frisée aux lardons and steak frites. Not that this is exactly new to London. This comes hard on the heels of Brasserie Zedel, a vast brass-railed and velvet-banqueted gastro palace, which was opened last year just off Piccadilly Circus by Jeremy King and Chris Corbin, the men behind the equally brasserie-esque Wolseley.

However vague brasserie definitions might be, there is no doubting their popularity. In Paris, the regulars at the likes of Bofinger, La Coupole and Balzar may mutter into their soupe à l'oignon that none is as good as it used to be. They will moan about the intervention of big operators such as the Brasserie Flo group, which now owns all the big names. But still they come. So what is the enduring appeal? "A lot of it is nostalgia for a certain type of glamour," says Young, "because the classic Parisian brasserie is born of the Belle Époque, the most romantic of Paris periods."

And for the most part, it is affordable, democratic glamour. Yes, they may offer lobster and fruits de mer, but there will always be a cheap dish of the day, a steak haché or stew. A lot of this lies in their antecedents. The great brasseries of Paris were created by refugees from the constant wars in Alsace-Lorraine, which saw the region regularly changing hands between France and Germany. The innkeepers of Alsace came to Paris to open microbreweries, then decided they should offer a bit of food with their beers. Eventually these turned into grand art nouveau glories where the demimonde of Paris would meet to eat, smoke and drink.

"All the big names of New York went to eat at Balthazar in its first five years," Young says. "In that sense it harked back to the original model." Likewise, the Wolseley has a reputation for feeding the well known; the artist Lucian Freud was such a regular that, when he died in 2011, they placed a black cloth on his favourite table and left it empty.

Certainly the notion that a Parisian brasserie can exist only in Paris doesn't stand up. They were always created and run by people from outside the city and, as long as they are true to the original idea, few will complain. That said, among Young's brasserie checklist is the presence on the menu of choucroute, the great Alsatian dish of sauerkraut with hunks of pork and sausage, brought into Paris by the original founders. It is on the menu at Zedel but not at Balthazar in New York. They might want to sort that out before they open in London.