Saloons originated in America's old west where they were often the first structure built in a frontier settlement, even if their walls were canvas and a plank slung between barrels did for a bar.

They acted as town hall, employment office, entertainment precinct and dating agency, and their barkeeps were known to cut good (or passable) liquor with cheaper ingredients such as gunpowder and turpentine to give them extra kick. Some saloons became grander, timbered, decked with the batwing doors that get a workout in westerns, and supplied with diversions from pool tables to pianists.

White Oaks is a fond butter-on-the-lens recreation of a saloon with an exuberant approach to spirits (barrel-aged cocktails!) and keen southern and Tex-Mex snacks for ballast. It's friendly and snug without a gold-digger or gun-slinger in sight but I'm happy to let authenticity slide: we don't spit tobacky round these parts and it's nice to toss back drinks feeling pretty confident there's no turps on tap.

There are batwing doors, though. Push through them, cowboy-style, to the toilet.

The food does the job. Made-to-order bluecorn chips taste like sustenance not filler. Pulled pork lolls with coleslaw on brioche buns. Fried chicken has a spicy twang but is dry (boneless bites are hazardous).

Texas caviar salad confounds because it's written in American on the menu ("cilantro", "bell pepper") but that actually makes this black-eyed pea chopped salad with coriander and capsicum more cultural.

There's hot sauce aplenty to jazz up the food and chilli made its way into my cocktail too: the "Beer and a Smoke" with mezcal, lime, fennel bitters, a splash of red devil and a slug of beer.

White Oaks is a marvellous mish-mash of the wild west but it's highly likeable even though – or perhaps because – the only shooters come in shot glasses.

Rating: Three stars (out of five)