It's a path well-travelled. Restaurant group buys old pub, does new fit-out, installs young chef. Only this happened 30 years ago, when Bruce Solomon of Solotel bought the Paddington Inn, remodelled the interior and gave a break to young, fast-rising chefs such as Steve Manfredi, Paul Merrony and Matt Moran.

So this time around, with talented daughter Anna and now-partner Matt Moran on board, he didn't even have to buy it – he already owns it. All he had to do was get everybody's favourite bearded designer George Livissianis to breathe fresh life into the place, find young chef Justin Schott (Rockpool, Kitchen by Mike), and here we go again.

The large, high-ceiling dining room to the rear has had an almost Swedish/Amish makeover. It's a cool, confident space with white-washed brick walls, handsome spotted gum tables, half-curtained windows, a busy open kitchen and a wall of beguiling single-line drawings reminiscent of Picasso from Danish artist Christiane Spangsberg.

At first glance, the opening menu is precisely on message for a born-again landmark corner pub. Carpaccio, chicken liver parfait, burrata, oysters, fish, steak, chips. (Stifles yawn). But in between turning out large numbers of handsome burgers for the front bar, Schott consistently takes a step or two off the beaten path.

The carpaccio ($17), for instance, is neither the usual beef, nor kingfish, but celeriac: fine shavings marinated in verjuice tossed with fresh hazelnuts and buttery rounds of leek, and topped with golden, double-crisp celeriac chips. Ugly, made beautiful.

Pickled mussels ($18) sound like something plucked from a fish and chip shop counter, but arrive prettily composed in a warm escabeche-like mix of charred cucumber, red elk leaves and apple batons.

Schott also steers clear of your usual pan-fried fish by roasting whole flathead tail on the bone ($34), serving it with a minimalist brown butter sesame dressing and a raft of the season's new green beans.

In what could be a step too far, he even reinvents the chip. The long, flat, oblongs of potato have been baked then fried ($10) and are strangely enjoyable, but would I be right to say that when people want chips, they want chips, not potato boogie-boards with burnt onion mayonnaise?

Likewise, a square slab of pork belly ($34) braised in masterstock and served with mustard leaves and slow-cooked quince, seems to miss a textural trick without the traditional crunch of crackling.

As you might expect by now from my masterful metaphoring, the wine list, too, wanders off the highway – see Greek xinomavro, Austrian gruner veltliner, German spatburgunder and a marsanne from Queensland's Granite Belt for details. Even pinot meunier, used primarily as a blending grape for champagne, gets to go it alone in a bright, fresh, easy-drinking wine from the Yarra Valley's Oakridge ($61).

Dessert is fun for all ages – a giant snowball of coconut sorbet ($14) set in a bright orange puddle of sweet carrot juice crowned with shreds of candied ginger.

It's a terrific space you can use in lots of different ways from pre-footy to brunchy lunches, and like the Paddo Inn of old, it's the launching pad for another hot young chef. A born-again pub is born again.

THE LOWDOWN

Best bit: New life for an old pub.
Worst bit: It's a bit manic in the front bar.

Terry Durack is chief restaurant critic for The Sydney Morning Herald and senior reviewer for the Good Food Guide. This rating is based on the Good Food Guide scoring system.