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The quail kabobs at Rumi really ought to count as one of Melbourne’s most iconic dishes at this point. They were one of the things I was most excited about eating when I moved back to Australia, mostly thanks to the scene in Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations Melbourne episode, in which he gobbles up one order of them and then orders another, exclaiming “delicious little birdies” like a maniacal quail fiend.

That scene spoke to my memories of growing up in Melbourne’s inner north, and the fantastic Middle Eastern meals my family had in Brunswick restaurants. It looked to me as though Rumi was taking that history and updating it ever so slightly, to fit in with the aesthetics of a more modern city. It made me excited to come home.

After 17 years on Lygon Street (in two different locations), Rumi has entered its next phase in a new home in the East Brunswick Village development just off Nicholson Street. Owners Joseph and Nat Abboud have also opened a small wine bar next door called Rocket Society.

The new Rumi space is bigger, brighter, and far more modern. It’s pretty – light-filled thanks to its large corner windowed location, and with a bit of an industrial chic vibe – but something of the Melbourne-ness has been lost. It’s a restaurant in a mixed-use shopping development, and it looks the part, which means it could exist just about anywhere in the world.

But those quail kabobs ($22), marinated in saffron then lacquered with verjus and grape molasses before being cooked to juicy, meaty pink excellence, are as good – if not better – than ever. Delicious little birdies, indeed.

This is comfort cooking, but it’s also precise, assured, and deeply delicious.

This is one of those restaurants where you come for your favourites, knowing they’ll be done right. I have a hard time wavering from the greatest hits: the quail; cheese cigars ($16); creamy, nutty almond taratour ($14), best enjoyed with a sprinkling of dukkah ($2); the marinated lamb shoulder ($40) with sirkanjabin, a mint vinegar syrup. The glorious, tender hunk of meat could easily feed a whole table with a salad or two on the side, making it one of the better deals in town.

But there’s reason to branch out, too. Half a barbecued chicken ($40) is accompanied by rose harissa and mloukieh, a Middle Eastern staple that is here made with warrigal greens rather than the traditional mallow, lending it an Australian flare.

The fish of the day ($36) – barramundi the evening I visited – comes with a crisp skin and a cornucopia of nuttiness in the form of tahini, walnuts, pine nuts and almonds, along with Turkish chilli. This is comfort cooking, but it’s also precise, assured, and deeply delicious.

Dessert presents the same conundrum – how do I bypass the apricots with labne and honey ($12), one of the simplest and greatest desserts ever? I took a chance instead on the baklava ice-cream sandwich ($16), made with creamy macadamia ice-cream scooped between two layers of crunchy filo pastry. It was fun, but I’ll probably go back to the apricots next time round.

One of the most exciting developments of the new location is the wine list, which has quintupled in length and now has around 100 bottles, including a robust selection of Middle Eastern wines alongside a fun list of more local drops. I especially loved a Lebanese sparkling pet nat from Mercel ($85), cleverly named “Leb Nat”. Brilliant ruby in colour, juicy and extremely food-friendly, it’s an absolute summer banger of a wine.

Rumi has a history of hiring younger folk from the neighbourhood as staff – Abboud once touted his “9 under 18” staff members on Instagram – which makes for a service experience that I appreciate, greatly. The place runs like a machine, to be honest, though some of the servers are green when it comes to wine knowledge and tableside manner. On the other hand, some have been here for years, and it shows.

There’s so much about the neighbourhood that Rumi embodies – its history as a bastion of Lebanese culture, its sense of family and community, and now, the proliferation of mixed-use developments that are gobbling up Brunswick.

Mostly, it is still a place that represents our city’s delicious Middle Eastern heritage, as well as its bright and diverse future.