Chris Lucas is not just a prolific restaurateur, he’s a restaurant fanboy with geek-level knowledge of the form and the craft. He’s not slavishly wedded to authenticity, though. From Chin Chin to Society, Kisumé to Grill Americano, the experience is more immersive than exact – vibe’s as important as verité – and he achieves this by heading to the source.

Multiple forays to Kyoto and Tokyo preceded the opening of Kisume, while Grill Americano was influenced by trips to London and New York so it’s no surprise that for Bâtard – a four-level, Parisian-style French restaurant opening at the top end of Bourke Street later this year – he took key members of the Lucas Restaurants team to France.

It’s a research expedition but not one that’s about recipe snaffling or décor replication. It’s about fully immersing the team in the restaurant and food culture of Paris, a city that believes, he says, “Life without beautiful food is no life at all.” By taking himself and the team away from their regular lives and jobs, “We can have uninterrupted conversations about the small details of what we want to do.”

Once immersed, he wants them to consider what they’re tasting and seeing, what they’re eating from or drinking out of, and then think about how it can be translated through a “Melbourne filter”. Lucas likes a theme, not a theme park.

The itinerary for the Paris research trip is, to put it mildly, intense. Over the course of five days Lucas will lead his crew – head of culinary Damien Snell, head of wine Loïc Avril and head of marketing Celia McCarthy, plus one embedded writer – on a culinary tour that covers 27 venues in five days and includes traditional bistros, modern brasseries, eye-wateringly expensive restaurants in world-renowned hotels, wine shops, neon-soaked bars, charcuteries, patisseries, wine shops, fresh food markets and kitchenware retailers.

Such a comprehensive list might come across as overkill if Lucas was simply planning to replicate a Parisian backstreet bistro. But replication and subtlety are not in the Lucas wheelhouse. Bâtard aims to be flashy, splashy and fun, incorporating a jazz/supper club in the basement, a two-level restaurant with four Josper grills, a wood oven and rotisserie, an oyster bar with state-of-the-art refrigeration to keep the meticulously-sourced bivalves alive, a dedicated wine cellar, private rooms and a lavish rooftop dining area shaded by fully grown trees. With that in mind, the diversity and intensity of the Parisian itinerary makes complete sense.

Certainly, the timbre of the research mission is set on day one, venue one: lunch at the venerable timber-fronted bistro Chez George on Rue de Mail, which has been serving Paris bistro greatest hits since 1946. It’s the kind of bistro that gives Parisian bistros the good name that’s often more memory than reality now; all worn, agreeably shabby timber-panelling, tiled floors, mirrored walls and brusque service from mostly older women.

The Lucas table orders big, including a vinegary lentil salad, breakfast radishes, white asparagus, steak and bone marrow, scallops, fish, and tarte Tatin. Everything is shared, picked and peered at, discussed, assessed. What gets the most attention at this lunch (and subsequent meals) are the fries.

The discussion of French fries is on a molecular level – what these research trips are for. Not just the colour, heat, saltiness, crispness, thickness, length, technique, but also what they’re served on or in. In this case it was a stainless-steel oval platter (not a favourite; the fries cool too quickly) and over the following days there are detailed discussions about the merits of baskets, bowls or ceramic plates. There are similar discussions on serving charcuterie and about what size, shape and consistency of the ice keeping the oysters cool should be.

Research trips like this are not for the faint-stomached. You consume a lot and must pay attention, venue after venue, no matter how full you are. Also, particularly if you’re being led around Paris by someone like Chris Lucas who’s no fan of dawdlers, you must match the pace and resign yourself to scurrying in his wake as the entourage rushes towards the next plate.

The Chez George lunch is succeeded by wine and a snack at Le Comptoir des Caves, one of the remaining old-school-style wine stores in Paris. Then it’s a browse through E Dehillerin, a dimly lit, closely packed kitchenware store that’s been operating since 1820. It’s the source of the zinc oyster trays that are the trademark oyster platter of Parisian bistros, and that will soon be part of Bâtard’s arsenal too.

A variety of bracingly briny oysters from one of those zinc trays is then demolished with a bottle of chablis at Au Pied de Cochon, a neon-lit restaurant famous for all things pork and equally for its oyster bar. That night it’s dinner at Epicure, the three-Michelin-star restaurant at Le Bristol hotel, an eye-wateringly expensive temple of traditional French cuisine. The highlight is a Bress hen, cooked inside a pig’s bladder that’s slashed open tableside.

The crew visits fresh food markets great and small. The Rungis wholesale market on the edge of Paris is so large it has its own postcode and contains Michelin-starred restaurants originally opened to feed the workers. And the chic, compact block-long street market on Rue Clare in the 7th Arrondissement is as famous for its street food as it is for the fresh produce.

Less traditional influences come from the Belle Epoque-style Le Chardenoux where Japanese flavours meet traditional French cooking. And the exquisite modern charcuterie and bistro Arnaud Nicolas that is pioneering a lighter, fresher style of terrine and charcuterie, like a dreamy rabbit terrine bright with mint and baby broad beans.

“What I wanted the team to see is where French food is headed right now,” says Lucas. “There’s a move among chefs in Paris away from fat and butter to a lighter and fresher style of cooking. The technique and the finesse are still there but the chefs are becoming more interested in integrating Asian flavours, particularly from Japan, and the kind of vegetable-driven dishes that you might more readily associate with Italy. They’re breaking away from the traditional constraints of the Michelin star system and I find that very, very exciting. I feel like it gives as more room to move at Bâtard. Of course we’re going to have a souffle on the menu, but we have the freedom to do a souffle that we can interpret through a Melbourne lens.”

A research trip like this is obviously beyond the budget of most restaurants. But to observe restaurant professionals dunked in such an experience is to watch ideas and enthusiasm spark and multiply in real time. Indulgent, sure, but to see how Chris Lucas and his team filter such research into a Melbourne context at Bâtard will be truly fascinating.

This story was produced independently by Broadsheet. The writer received no payment or travel assistance from Lucas Restaurants.

This story is part of The Travel Issue: Wish You Were Here.