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Timing is everything. As Shane Delia discovered when he turned his Smith Street ghetto kebab joint Biggie Smalls into Maha Bar in early 2020, pandemics have an annoying habit of stealing the news from hospo industry reboots.

Maha Bar rumbled on for a few years but the chance for any serious bonding was lost in the mental fuzz of lockdowns and Melbourne’s rolling obsession with the new and shiny.

Delia has a proven track record in changing things up when needed and occasionally dropping a motza in the process (a reported $1 million renovation at Maha in 2015 still makes me wince, although history has proven the guy knows what he’s doing).

Here in Collingwood, he’s in safer territory (fiscally speaking, at least) by splitting the atom of Maha East, the Chapel Street bar-resto that has slanted its huge appeal towards a looser, livelier affair than the Maha mothership, with its big-commitment tasting menus.

Like East, Maha North occupies a demilitarised zone somewhere between bar and bistro. No matter which direction you’re approaching from, Delia’s brand of Beirut bistronomy has plenty to recommend it. There’s enough light and shade on a now-expanded menu that it can be the solid foundation for “dinner” in all its full-throated glory.

On the other side of the ledger, as the addition of shoestring fries suggests, it’s also a place where drinks can be prioritised, so long as there’s something salty and hot within reach.

If that’s your speed, you’ll find plenty to amuse you here. Do you thrill to the aniseed throat-fire of raki and arak? The full quiver is ready to aid a fun game of “we’re in Istanbul now” cosplay.

Do you heart the cocktail program of Jayda, the group’s late-2022 addition to the CBD? There’s a good amount of Middle Eastern mixology going on, from a pomegranate sour made with vanilla vodka and cherries, to a Turkish delight martini.

And even if you are expecting to hit the menu and hit it hard (the $75 sharing menu will help in that regard) it pays to know that the snacks are the biz.

An X-ray thin tart shell filled with confit cherry tomatoes on a cloud-like base of whipped ricotta ($8) thwacks the palate with a citrus kick, the nutty exotica of zaatar and those sweet, sweet tomatoes.

The sweetly spiced beef kefta ($8) with its posh macadamia hummus is an earthy, creamy hit.

A rugged fried bread cracker topped with a diced tumble of pickled octopus ($8) is cloaked in a vibrant orange harissa and muhammara (roasted red pepper dip), all gentle heat and tang.

Put your geo-caching app away. The menu faithlessly rejects Maha’s Middle Eastern remit for flavour dalliances with near-enough neighbours such as Turkey and Greece.

There’s also a tweezer-free gutsiness about the food that’s all the more disarming for a chef trained in the tricks of fine dining but who chooses not to use them. You don’t need to sex up the dossier when there’s something as disarmingly good as merguez sausage ($17) with a thick tomato braise and a creamy scoop of herbed labne that oozes gently in the heat. Is the addition of mussels redundant in the face of all this Big Flavour? Perhaps, although while they may not add too much they certainly don’t detract.

Room-wise, a fresh glow-up hasn’t changed much in the way of hardware. The central bar still has the varnished cork top that speaks obliquely of the mid-century migrant rumpus room, and the fluted glass partitions retain that classic vibe, while a series of smaller tables march down a mood-lit narrow corridor. Bar seating, low-tops; the choice is yours in this comfortable mood-lit cocoon.

There are some stylish moves on the plates too. Displaying the deft balance that has made it a signature at Maha East, charry-edged cured kingfish with piped dabs of whipped cod roe and saffron-pickled onions and carrots ($16) is mod-Oz spun through the prism of an upmarket winery restaurant in Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley.

Single fat king prawns wrapped in a thicket of kataifi pastry and anchored with Aleppo peppered honey are $18 worth of visual drama and excellent meaty crustacean.

Orecchiette-adjacent Lebanese “garlic dumplings” ($32) anchor a slippery dish of confit leeks and pine nuts into a jazzed-up workingman’s dish. I remain unconvinced about any union of chicken and pasta – too sexlessly same-y, the arranged marriage lacks fireworks.

Better: a fragrant bowl of clams and scallops in a meaty sujuk cream broth with pickled fennel and fronds of the fresh tops ($36). It’s like a visitation from the Turkish Riviera.

Timing is everything, and Maha North ought to encounter neither pandemic nor apathy. With North and East covered, will Maha South and Maha West follow? Because that’s news we’d like to hear.