Want to go to the pub? It’s the question asked by mates hundreds of thousands of times around Australia every weekend and, for diehards, every day.

“Wanna go to the pub?” evokes feelings of friendship and good times and the idea that if someone wants to sit at a bar with you and share a frosty beverage, you’re included, you’re a part of someone’s life.

Don’t know about you, but that always feels good.

There’s a ritual to sitting in a pub you won’t find in a fashionable bar or a restaurant. It’s having a conversation which, at face level, seems to be about nothing, but at closer examination is a gentle exploration of each other’s successes and travails, moments of glory and despair, kids and sport and, yes, indecorous humour.

This can happen at other places – the hairdresser perhaps, or the yacht club – but in the great democracy of the Aussie front bar, the quiet, unseen millions of us with simple lives and simple pleasures cement relationships with bonhomie and beer.

If, as they say, politics is downstream of culture, pub life is downstream of community.

There are a lot of “old school” pubs in WA where this happens, where dust-covered cockies quietly sip a middie with an exhausted mate who’s been driving the header for three days straight and where old fellas wander over to the TAB for a bet on the 5th at Rosehill.

One of the great new “old school” pubs in WA is the Margaret River Brewhouse, a melting pot of working men and women with their kids and mates, doing nothing more or less than catching up, sharing life and enjoying the pleasure of their besties.

The car park is full of Hilux and Ranger utes and tray backs. Young mums and dads wear thongs with their smart casual day wear. There’s no room for Davos Man here. These people would never dream of lecturing you about the superior concerns of the powerful and connected. They are grateful people. Happy people. And they don’t mind a drink.

The Brewhouse, unsurprisingly brews beer. Lots of it.

For a brew pub which bangs out 2000 dishes a day, the food is good too.

There is a never-ending procession of dishes being ferried from the open kitchen to tables on the grass at the bottom of the tree-lined venue, on the covered deck, and on the upstairs lawn where you’re allowed to have a gasper if that’s your thing. Our tip: book online and request a table on the large deck. It’s close to the bar (important, right?) and you have a helicopter view of the gardens and outdoor seating areas.

We were a couple of Brewhouse Kolsch middies down when a plate of Korean chicken arrived. For $32, it’s a big serve of chook, grilled and bathed in a glistening glaze of gochujang-based sauce, not spicy, just mildly humming.

The chicken was tender. A papaya salad on the side was good, not as tart and green as one would expect, but refreshing and crunchy nonetheless. Miso-flavoured mayonnaise joined the party, adding unction and zing. Pretty good for a pub.

Chilli salt squid was a typical rendition of the pub favourite, borrowed from the Cantonese dim sum playbook, except these were big, fat strips of squid, not rings. They were soft and tender and the crispy, salty coating was light.

Sticky pork was notable because it was not overcooked. It was tender, juicy and, you guessed it, sticky. Tidy dish.

Chips – always a benchmark for fresh oil at a good temperature – were very good.

One should only ever buy pizza from a pizzeria, but they have become a staple of pubs because punters love them and the food costs are next-level good. They’re also a favourite with the kids and, once the carbs kick in, a good way to sedate the little monsters.

The Brewhouse bangs out some interesting variants. The Buffalo chicken pizza sports a mild wing sauce and … um, don’t know how to say this in polite company … ranch dressing. But here’s the thing, the Brewhouse’s Americanisation of Naples’ favourite flatbread is about as weapons-grade tasty as toppings on dough can get. Noice.

The Brewhouse, unsurprisingly brews beer. Lots of it.

The beers cater for modern tastes with wincingly sour sours and more crafty styles of “hazy” beers and hop-forward IPAs. They also make conventional beers. If you’re into clean, crisp, lager styles, their Kolsch is the brew for you. It’s well made and definitely not a trendy Frankenbeer.

The wine list is just 17 titles deep and modestly priced. All reds and whites sell by the glass. Props to Brewhouse. It’s the way responsible drinkers like to order these days. It also means if the table wants a cab sav and you don’t, you can order a glass of Preveli rosé and do it your way.

The Margaret River Brewhouse is a watering hole of stature. It’s a pub for anyone, old or young, kids and grandparents, lads and ladettes. Importantly, a couple of hours at Brewhouse will reintroduce you to the low-key, simple delight and contentment that derives from hanging out with your buds in a cheery, well-run boozer.