Three bottle-blonde matrons resplendent in chiffon are lamenting the difficulties of finding good, full-time domestic help. A middle-aged couple help themselves to a table and order half-strength skinny lattes before the flustered waitress can ask if they have a dinner booking. And Gregory Peck looks on in bemusement as another table flaps about dividing the bill to get to The Fault in Our Stars late session at Palace Balwyn next door.

Welcome to where a simple cafe becomes, for three nights a week, something more. It's a paradigm shift that's become commonplace as cafes leverage more bang out of their leasehold buck. With margins becoming tighter only the savvy survive, and Arthur Radley does the day-to-night thing with greater ease than many thanks to its smart cafe looks with an overlay of wine bar. Just add twinkling tea lights and paper-over-linen at night, and - voila.

In case you're wondering why Mr Peck, a symphony in tweed, is hung behind the bar, Arthur Radley is the proper name of To Kill A Mockingbird's anti-hero, Boo Radley (Peck played lawyer Atticus Finch in the movie). Both Atticus Finch and Boo Radley were already taken when the two proprietors took over a Whitehorse Road sandwich shop three years ago. They're massive fans of the book; I counted three copies in the upstairs loo, alongside less exalted reading. Good call they didn't name it ''The Celestine Prophecy''.

Some years ago, I wrote a feature about Balwyn quoting a disgruntled citizen calling its furthest reaches ''North Boring''. Older and wiser, I'll duck the artillery fire and suffice it to observe that the clientele is conservative. How conservative? Well, the waitress, who also turns out to be an owner, will warn you the duck breast comes pink in the middle. Right-o. She'll also casually suggest a glass of Cotes-du-Rhone with the pink duck, which as well as showing a flair for the upsell also reveals a degree of care above the everyday. The list itself is an eclectic thing, hung together with no more guiding principle than a European slant and a fair price. Anyone pinching the pennies to afford full-time domestic help should be well pleased.

Arthur Radley calls itself a bistrot-with-a-T - you know, like the French do it - although the menu hugs both sides of the Mediterranean. It's a fairly busy document of 10 starters and six mains supplemented by a few nightly specials written up on butcher's paper.

There are four fat lamb cigars, the mince sweet with cinnamon and earthy with pine nuts, with a wedge of lemon and minted yoghurt. The flavours are true, although the fryer oil could be hotter to counteract the stodgy filo. There's one of those mini fryer baskets - yes, even in Balwyn - stacked with soft calamari dusted in chickpea flour (the gluten-intolerant are no afterthought); riding shotgun is a decent, commercially made green-chilli relish that pulses with jalapenos, cumin and coriander seeds.

The pasta is the bomb - deliberately rustic ravioli hammered together almost haphazardly over a fat prawn and crab filling, a fragrant bisque made from the shells colluding with a tomato and chilli vinaigrette. Half a scampi is laid over the top like a lightly grilled party favour.

But it's the niggardly things that reduce Arthur Radley to the sum of its parts. There's a long time to get a drink, the pacing between courses is glacial, and they habitually leave the door leading to the courtyard wide open on a night begging for coats and scarves. As for that pink duck breast - perfectly cooked, the pimply white skin burnished into a Gold Coast tan - it arrives with oily braised potatoes, wilted spinach and some sort of overcooked porky crunchiness that the menu identifies as Serrano but could pass muster as breakfast bacon leftovers.

The zeppole - Italian doughnuts - are decent enough, though, a diehard carb-lover's dessert dusted in sugar and cinnamon and stickily slicked in honey. It's not rocket science, but Balwyn doesn't need rocket science. It just needs some decent places to eat post-5pm. With a little work, Arthur Radley could be that place.

THE LOWDOWN
The best bit Balwyn calling
The worst bit It's a long time between courses
Go-to dish Crab ravioli with prawn, chilli and tomato vinaigrette, $29

Twitter: @LarissaDubecki or email: ldubecki@fairfaxmedia.com.au