In a sign of the times, the old gaming room at The Sackville Hotel is now a buzzy little French bistro. Instead of pokies, there is pâté. Instead of fruit machines, we get lemon tart.

The gaming room may have only moved to the rear of the pub, but I’m much happier with the idea of my coins going towards Sydney rock oysters, steak frites and lemon tart.

The Sackville has been held by the Solotel group since 1999, and chief executive Elliot Solomon has stepped into the shoes of father Bruce to oversee a total of 26 venues across Sydney, Parramatta and Brisbane. It was a recent trip of his to Paris with baby in tow that inspired the switch to a come-as-you-are bistro, complete with children’s menu, to capture the area’s changing demographic. Right on cue, a young couple and their daughter settle on the banquette next to my table. On the other side, two off-duty sommeliers forensically study the wine list and argue about chablis.

The entrance is through a sweet little wood-lined bar, with the restaurant space an awkward L-shape around a private dining room. The paper-covered tables are stamped with “599 Rue Cherie”, a Franglais take on Darling Street, and garnished with little frilled table lamps. Patrons sit elbow-to-elbow on dark bentwood chairs as staff weave in and around them.

Chef Mark Williamson was at Woollahra’s Bistro Moncur for six years, so is well versed in the ways of the bistro. A salad of peach, tomato, goat’s curd, fennel and almonds ($28) is classically arranged; other dishes take twists and turns. Tuna tartare rewrites salade nicoise, all the goodies lurking under a crisp potato galette; and croque monsieur comes as cafe-style cheese toasties with a bowl of melted comte for dipping.

I can never resist opera cake ($18), with its layers of almond sponge, buttercream and ganache, and absolute lack of decorative faff.

Even chicken liver pâté ($24) comes bruleed, with a toast rack of grilled brioche, runny orange marmalade and pickled cucumber. Beneath its softened crust, the pâté is smooth and pink, without being overly creamy.

Tripe is deep-fried; the soft, golden fingers of blanched, braised and crumbed honeycomb tripe ($24) cutely served in a seafood cocktail dish with lemon and a runny rouille for dipping. It’s quite possibly too soft, but if you’ve been served as much tough, chewy tripe as I have, you’d shut up and be grateful.

A saddle of White Pyrenees lamb ($46) sits atop terrific cassoulet-style white beans flecked with carrot, lush and comforting. The lamb has a beautifully long flavour, fringed with fat and crisp skin, with a splodge of feisty sauce verte. The menu promises chicken mousse and tenderloins within the cavity, but this doesn’t eventuate. Not so good for Instagram, but still good for dinner. As is a fleshy, fruity 2021 Famille Perrin Cotes de Rhone ($15/$70).

Bannockburn chicken is served two ways, the leg as a very pleasant stuffed roulade, and the breast roasted on the crown ($38). Adding to the mix is a splosh of smooth mashed potato, chicken jus and quenelle of mushroom duxelles. A green salad of butter lettuce ($12) is overdressed, and softens quickly.

Staff members are kept busy as tables turn over, and while a few look lost, young waiter Lachlan Kershaw-Domingo has a handle on it.

The three desserts all look good, but I can never resist opera cake ($18), with its layers of almond sponge, buttercream and ganache, and absolute lack of decorative faff. Credit to Chez Blue chef Kelly Susanto for staying true to the original, created by the famed Dalloyau patisserie in Paris in 1955. (Just don’t put it under the warming lights before it is sent to the table, or the ganache will be too soft.)

There’s a bit of detail missing in action, as if the chef has the night off (and I discover later that was indeed the case). But here’s to more pokies being sidelined in favour of the joys of wining and dining. I’d much rather put my money where my mouth is.