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There’s a style of service that I think of as Melbourne-specific, that I find as comforting and reassuring as the city itself. It is supremely no-nonsense, almost brusque, and yet steeped in a kind of familial professionalism – these people are here to feed you as expeditiously as possible; they know the menu back and front, and they have no time for shenanigans. It exists all over the city, but most prominently at some of our most beloved institutions, especially the ones that tend to retain staff for years. I see it at Marios, at Scopri, at France-Soir. And it is perhaps in its purest form at Jim’s Greek Tavern, a restaurant so integral to the spirit of Melbourne that I honestly cannot imagine us without it.

At Jim’s, where there are no menus and the waiters act as much like dinner directors as simple servers, it feels like being doted on by a gruff but loving uncle who is slightly impatient. How much coddling you get depends on the individual – some will go so far as to ask if you’ve eaten there before, if you know about the no-menu situation. Some will simply demand, “What do you want? Some dips? Some lamb?” before basically deciding for you.

Bring the good wine (Jim’s remains BYO-only), or the crap wine, or a six-pack of tinnies and bung them in the communal fridge at the front of the room. Eating here is like being thrown in the deep end at someone else’s family reunion, then quickly deciding you want to be adopted by these lunatics. Sink or swim!

If you’re here with a group (and this is a restaurant built for groups), you will almost certainly be pushed towards the set menu, which is $75 a head and includes dips, seafood, lamb cutlets and galaktoboureko for dessert. For the uninitiated, it’s certainly the easiest way to go.

“As much as I love the food here, I equally love the pandemonium, the Grecian statues, the faux plants, the uproarious noise of merrymaking.”

However, if, like me, you prefer to go the unscripted route, it will require a little more wrangling and detective work on your part. First, you need to get a good look at the ingredient case on the way in.

Are there perfect tiny lamb’s brains displayed? Order them. What fish looks freshest? (This is a place where your waiter, if amenable, will help: ask what fish is the best. He is unlikely to lie to you.) If it’s available, it’s never a wrong move to choose blue-eye ($37.50), its pearlescent flesh tender and sweet. Recently, I spied some chicken livers towards the back of the case and took a chance. We were rewarded with perfectly cooked livers in a rich pan sauce.

Of course, you’ll still want the dips ($8 a head), the saganaki ($15.50), the lamb cutlets. Nothing is done to hide the flavour of anything: the lamb is simply grilled, wonderfully juicy. Throw in a salad ($14.50), or any grilled seafood that catches your fancy; scallops ($38.50) will be fat, prawns ($38.50) will be garlicky, nothing will be overdone.

Here’s the thing about Jim’s: the food is bloody delicious. I’m not sure that there’s a cheese saganaki in the world I crave more than the one served here ($15.50). There’s nothing exceptional about it except that it’s done exactly right, crisped in its hot platter just so, stretchy and caramelised and completely satisfying with a squirt of the lemon provided.

The dips you see on every table are great ($8 a head), nothing fancy, the tzatziki impossibly creamy, the taramasalata that perfect balance of savoury and fishy without any of the odd bitterness or cloying qualities that can besmirch this dip in the wrong hands.

Lamb gyro ($35.50), which spins on a huge spit at the front of the restaurant, is all crispy fatty meaty wonder.

Pricing is opaque, given the lack of menus, and you just have to trust your waiter to decide how many serves of each dish your table requires. I’ve certainly never felt ripped off; generosity is at the heart of this place.

As much as I love the food here, I equally love the pandemonium, the Grecian statues, the faux plants, the uproarious noise of merrymaking. Have I had to take a quick stroll outside some evenings to quell the anxiety of a room in so much chaos? Sure. But it’s a beautiful chaos, an orchestrated one, one that has been building and evolving for more than 50 years. There’s nowhere else like it.

It’s restaurants like Jim’s that make us who we are, as a city, as a community. It’s more than commerce, it’s a sense of place, a sense of belonging. It’s where I take visitors to give them a window into the soul of Melbourne, it’s where I go with family to remind me why I’ll always call this city home. Let us never take it for granted, its grumpy uncle waiters, its excellent crispy cheese, its gorgeous unending chaos.