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I fear the entree is an endangered species. “Having entrees on the menu will take up to 40 minutes to serve, eat and clear,” say James Bradey and Warren Burns of the lively Liquid & Larder Group. “With them, a fast meal goes out the window.”

So they dispensed with them altogether at Alfie’s, having sensed there is a gap in the CBD market for quality food at a fast pace. The team behind upscale steakhouses Bistecca and The Gidley is now disrupting the chophouse scene with this cheeky, clever concept.

Dithering also takes up precious time, so the only main course on the menu is steak. And the only steak is a 220-gram sirloin from the Riverine, for $38.

The big promise? The steak will land on the table within 15 minutes of ordering.

My timer is ready. Let’s see how they go.

They like to start you in the broad front bar, then move you to the dining room at the rear when your table is free. The drinks list is cool, with butchers (200ml) of Grifter pale ale ($6), icy-cold gin or vodka martinis, and Bloody Shiraz Spritzes.

At 12.55pm, I shift to the table, and at 1pm, my order goes in. Steak (hard to go past) and sides: “hot chips” with chip shop curry sauce ($9/$16), fire-roasted baby carrots with feta ($9/$16), and a mix of roasted mushrooms ($9/$16). The timer is ticking – or it would be, if it weren’t on my smartphone.

A basket arrives with soft, warm scones (I may be wrong, but I get a distinct baking powder twang) and a smearage of butter, sweet with slow-cooked onions.

Dining here is a hustle, but it’s fun, fast and with decent office fodder.

Noise levels are pub-loud, service cheery, bar murals streetwise and energy high. In keeping with the don’t-get-too-comfortable strategy, chairs are hard, tables are sturdy. It’s like playschool for grown-ups.

Exec chef Pip Pratt’s kitchen and its bespoke grill is hidden from sight, but there’s a peek-a-boo show window to the butcher at work and a panorama of the ageing room, where eight tonnes of bone-in cuts line up in military precision. You can also watch the rotisserie at work, where porchetta is given a beefy spin as a daily special “beefetta” ($48).

I hit the timer as the steak lands on the table, at 16.5 minutes. You’re late.

It’s cute, though, nestled in a depression on a bespoke steak plate, cooked medium-rare, rested and sliced, with naught but a swamp-green puddle of terrific mustard, spinach, horseradish sauce.

Is it any good? In spite of being mostly wet-aged, it finishes with five days of dry-ageing, which is better than no dry-ageing at all. Flavour’s beefy, fat level’s fine, chew’s texturally good.

The carrots are delicious, but I’m not convinced pickled shimeji work in the mix of roasted mushrooms. Chips are great, nubbly with salt, and the curry sauce is a giggle; the sort of thing you’d have with steak and eggs in London’s Hackney.

Whites and reds get equal time on the list, from a floral, fruit-driven Macchialupa Fiano from Campania ($21/$100), to a Domaine la Soumade ($20/$95), a ripe, juicy grenache blend from the southern Rhone. There are 10 wines under Coravin, but most of the lunchtime crowd are on beers, cold and briskly brought.

Plates are cleared after 30 minutes. A wedge of gypsy treacle tart ($16) is super-sweet, with a pretzel base, and the so-called “f--- off gelato-on-a-stick” ($11) is a fine collab with Ciccone & Sons, enriched with beef fat (as if it weren’t rich enough already) with roasty toasty notes of burnt honey.

No lingering over a cheese plate (there isn’t one), and I’m out the door exactly one hour and 15 minutes after coming in. Some groups get moved back to the bar, wine glasses in hand, when their time is up. Play and pay, but don’t stay.

Let’s face it, dining here is a hustle, but it’s fun, fast and with decent office fodder. Workers, unite! For an hour and 15 minutes at least, then f--- off.