• Besha Rodell reviews Fitzroy North's Royal Oak Hotel

While Victoria awaits the imminent arrival of Sydney pub power player Justin Hemmes with a mixture of trepidation and excitement, it's worth noting that classic boozer real estate has become seriously big business.

More than $4 billion worth of pubs changed hands last year across Australia – dang it that I didn't have a couple to offload – and they've been declared more or less recession-proof. Because: pubs. Ka-ching.

So what's your pub speed? The gobbling Pac-Man-style pub groups like Merivale and Australian Venue Co, which recently splashed $100 million on much of the Sand Hill Road group (the Esplanade Hotel and many more), like to turn their hyper-designed portfolio into modern party palaces with Instagram "moments".

Maybe you prefer a bona fide gastropub – still a terrible name, but no one seems to have come up with something better.

Or perhaps the endangered breed of the classic boozer, last bastion of the sticky carpet, is where you choose to lay your hat.

In the middle ground lies a style of pub like Bobbie Peels.

Situated in that non-binary bit of North Melbourne still trying to decide if it's residential or commercial, just a butcher's bellow from the Queen Vic Market, this corner haunt has layers of history as well as plenty else to recommend it.

Last time Good Food visited, it was an Eastern European-themed pub, The Crimean, but you might also remember it as The Keeper's Arms or, depending on your age, the original Robert Peel.

Credit to new owners Phil Gijsbers and Neil Mills. These beer and coffee guys and serial small venue operators (between them they've launched Hard Pressed, Burnley Brewing, Rusty's, Saint James, Small Print and a bunch of others) have been wise enough to leave its character to shine. Half-tiled walls, pressed metal ceilings, loads of timber and brilliantly attractive lighting … it's like Guy Pearce is about to wander in to film an episode of Jack Irish.

Sexy slips of archways lead between the dining room and the moody front bar. It's a nice place to sit and sip some seriously good drops – the not-your-average list leans into back vintages by Best's, Cullen and By Farr, with a smattering of pet nats, orange gear and magnums (but no points in the fizz department for pouring only prosecco by the glass, boo). There's a bunch of craft beers on tap and in the fridges, and just six classic cocktails, including a barrel-aged negroni, a margarita and an Old Fashioned.

But that's easily enough, maybe with a chaser of fat chips and paprika-dusted aioli ($13): a couple of convivial drinks in a setting not too far removed from something plenty of us swoon in nostalgia over.

But there are cogent reasons to take to a comfy banquette booth or a high-top, thanks to a menu from chef Sean Manning that honours the pub's 50:50 food and drink split.

It's stuff that's seasonal and mostly designed to share but also not to think too deeply about. A bundle of snappingly crisp asparagus ($18) celebrate the start of the season with toasted whole hazelnuts and a tangy sage butter sauce so good it has me swiping a guilty finger through it.

Two lamb skewers ($22) similarly deliver the non-shouty creed of produce-driven simplicity: the meat, marinated in garlic, lemon, oregano, shiraz and mint, rocks a decent char and pink centre while a mint and parsley-driven salsa verde is perked up with a subtle hit of green chilli (order the excellent house-baked bread, $11, to mop).

Braised puy lentils are a rich, soul-affirming stew – optional add-ons include two rounds of chargrilled eggplant, which are crying out for more oil, garlic and love to justify their presence.

Service is also of the season. Yes, you order at the bar, which is a reasonable management decision in this backpacker-free dining age (although they could keep up their end of the deal and not deliver every dish at once, despite being asked nicely for something called "staggering").

Proving Italian food's affinity with the modern pub-frequenting person, the main food focus is on handmade pasta. Options include a mushroom and spinach lasagne and pappardelle with beef and pork ragu.

A mad tangle of angel hair spaghetti ($33) with charry strips of squid, rocket leaves and herbs is lifted by a lemony, garlicky breadcrumb into the realm of "hell yes" – plus it's big enough to share.

A sticky date pudding with butterscotch sauce and honeycomb chunks isn't going to set the world on fire. But it does nothing to dent the conclusion that there really ought to be more pubs like Bobbie Peels.

It oozes comfort and style; it'll feed and hydrate you and send you off into the night happy to have spent time there. This simple equation comes complete with a "please leave quietly" sign at the door. It's not exactly Hemmes-style big business but it sure is my idea of good business.

Vibe A classic pub updated with an eye for style … and great lighting

Go-to dish Spaghetti, squid, lemon, herbs, breadcrumbs, $33

Drinks A well-rounded list of wines, beers and simple cocktails

Cost $110 for two, plus drinks