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Here’s the scene: It’s 11.30pm in Melbourne’s CBD. You’ve been out – at a concert, a sports event, a play. The trams are packed with all those people pouring out of Marvel Stadium or the MCG or Rod Laver. You’re a bit hungry, and not looking to fight your way onto public transport. Instead, you head towards Spring Street and slip up a stairway.

What a relief, to sink into a plush couch beside a wide window with art deco framing that scaffolds the night outside in all its twinkling glory. What a pleasure to have a properly made cocktail without the crush of a bar, a properly considered wine list and a waiter who knows his way around it, a proper restaurant experience at this late hour. And, perhaps best of all, what an utter luxury to dip your spoon into a frothy soup ($20), its broth deeply lemony, its combination of rice and egg and chicken the epitome of elegant comfort.

Supper Club, which has operated across from Parliament House since 1998, has long been a purveyor of good things well past the time when most serious restaurants close up shop. But that chicken soup is thanks to Kafeneion, the Greek restaurant that restaurateur Con Christopoulos and business partner Stavros Konis opened on Bourke Street last May.

The Bourke Street address was never meant to be permanent – the project was always described as a pop-up. And the space was probably too small for the boisterous success that Kafeneion immediately became. In January, Christopoulos announced that Kafeneion would move around the corner into the Supper Club space.

Little has changed about either venue – which probably speaks to the appropriateness of the mashup. There, still, is the clubby vibe, the wonderful Columbia Pictures torch lady mural that oversees the dining room, that fantastic window, all the things that have long defined Supper Club.

And there, too, is the raucousness of Kafeneion, the home-style cooking, the service that borders on chaotic and yet is somehow still charming and utterly professional (you may well get dishes that your neighbouring table ordered; they’ll be on the house, and your neighbours will compliment you on your taste and ordering prowess when they get your dishes). It’s loud, it’s crowded, it’s fun.

The menu hasn’t changed perceptibly – there are the crisped sweetbreads ($20), creamy and simple and needing no further accompaniment than a good squeeze of lemon; there are the dips, the whipped cod roe ($17), the warm fava ($18). There’s the Greek village salad ($19), looking and tasting exactly as a Greek salad should, all big hunks of tomato and feta and crisp cucumber.

Aside from the fish of the day (market price), all main courses are available in half or full servings, and there’s absolutely no reason to order a large serving of anything unless you’re there with a group, because the half servings are plenty generous. The braised beef cheeks ($34/$44) are fall-apart tender, the chicken with pasta ($24/$36) is pure cosiness on a plate.

At 10pm, the menu reverts to the more broadly European selection of snacks that Supper Club served before Kafeneion took over, but you can still get dips and cheeses from the Kafeneion menu. Late night is also the only time you can get the Greek soups, including the chicken soup that, in my opinion, already counts as one of Melbourne’s great dishes.

The Supper Club location gives Kafeneion gravitas, and a sense that it’s always been here. It’s one of those restaurants where I’d take a visitor to give them a feel for what Melbourne is all about – its Greek heritage, its gorgeous architecture, its special brand of hospitality that feels like family (family with incredibly good taste). I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Kafeneion is that rare restaurant that’s a window into the heart of our city.