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The whole world loves a courtyard. And this is a good one, with an ancient grapevine curling along its cast iron fence. This thin triangular wedge of shady terrace has been here since Natalino’s opened on the same corner in 1962 – and so has the grapevine, which the current building lease stipulates must be protected and cared for.

Never mind that the view is of a gritty back lane in Kings Cross. It’s a courtyard. Stop complaining. We need all the outside dining we can get.

While the gentrification of Kings Cross continues apace, Teddy – recently opened by Kirk and Nick Mathews Bowden of next-door Ezra– channels a little of the spirit of the precinct’s naughty past. Inside, the dining room is painted a florid burgundy, and the 𝄒70s-𝄒80s vibe continues with a playlist of the Pointer Sisters, Prince, Whitney and Depeche Mode.

The Mathews Bowdens’ previous restaurant on this site, Raja, closed before young chef Ahana Dutt could really make her mark, so this switcheroo could be seen as a response to economic constraints. In fact, all signs point to the fact that newcomer Teddy just wants you to have a good time. Not too serious a time, and not a particularly long time, but a good time.

The promotions go all week – on Monday you can BYO without charge, Tuesdays are $29 minute steaks, Wednesdays are $29 pasta and vino, etc. And did I mention the happy hour? It’s daily. With a glorious disregard for any pedants out there, it goes from 4 to 6pm, with $12 cocktails and $10 wines. And all day on Sundays, good grief, with snacks and Teddy jaffles.

The food is playful rather than profound.

While the menu has been written by former Ezra head chef Ben Sears, Nicole Coelho is hands-on as head chef. She’s having fun with the lobster and pork sausage roll ($20), which arrives in a Barbie-pink paper bag. The filling makes me think I’m eating a sausage while sipping shellfish bisque, but it’s a hoot. The “fancy tomato sauce” is a bit gloopy with oil; not sure about that.

The food is playful rather than profound. Vermouth-marinated olives ($6) taste more of olive than vermouth, which is probably a good outcome. Small potato skins filled with whipped cod roe and salmon caviar ($16) are big on crunch and squish; a success by any measure.

A menu with nothing over $40 can often feel restrictive, but not here. New-season asparagus ($24) is in peak condition, lounging on a thick macadamia cream. Curls of trottole pasta in cacio e pepe sauce spiked with native pepperberry ($29) are oven-baked until crunchy and charred; proper drinking food.

Scorchy lamb cutlets can be ordered individually ($12) with a zippy green sauce. Not that anyone would order just one lamb chop, which would clearly run foul of some form of Sam Kekovich Meat & Livestock law. I suggest three.

A few plates lack oomph. A “royale” steak tartare showered in smoked cheddar ($29) needs the height of horseradish or pickles; French onion dip with radishes ($16) is mild. Pork schnitzel is a crisply crumbed, battened-out chop complete with a paper chef hat on its bone ($38), with a mustard sauce that hasn’t been told it’s meant to be feisty.

At least the fries ($9) are thin, crisp and highly salt-and-vinegared (and cheap, as fries prices go), which means you’ll be needing a glass of fresh and bright Arfion pinot noir from Victoria’s Yarra Valley ($17) or a chilled Chateau L’Arnaude rosé from Provence ($18). Dessert sees a cute Teddy’s chocolate orange ($18), all crisp white chocolate shell around rich chocolate mousse, on a surprise bed of bittersweet marmalade.

Also cute is the naughty corner, a romantic private dining room dolled up like a kasbah with a fabric-draped ceiling and cushioned banquettes. But the six boys lucky enough to score it, repeatedly ask for a table in the courtyard instead. Of course they do.