Oh to be young and beautiful. Young adults seem to behold a natural beauty with their energy. Age hasn’t yet furrowed their brow, nor quelled their innocent appetite for good times. Some of us carry that into the latter years, too.

Just like its Melbourne big sister, Chin Chin Sydney is overflowing with the exuberance of youth. They’re queued three-deep outside and louder than a menagerie of hyenas inside. Sure, it’s a place to eat food – a Thai-inspired South-East Asian smorgasbord – but its attraction is really about energy. It’s the chaotic nightclub of the restaurant industry.

Housed in the heritage-listed Griffiths Tea building left derelict for far too long, designer George Livissianis’s rustic palette of blond timbers, marble, stainless steel and exposed beams allows the crowd to colour the space.

Group executive chef Ben Cooper and chef Graeme Hunt lead a brigade serving up 49 dishes plus sides, in generous portions and varying degrees of heat – from mild to ‘scud chilli death sauce’. There’s an array of sections to navigate too – little ‘somethings’, rice and noodles, curries, salads and vegetables, and a new barbecue and rotisserie section.

Isaan duck larb has depth and a quality kick of spice. A large spanner crab omelette is smothered in sriracha and a little clumsy, but green papaya salad pulls off the sweet, sour and spicy collaboration well. Spot-on pork belly is crisp-skinned and wobbly, but be warned to administer the accompanying ‘death sauce’ sparingly unless you want to hallucinate.

King salmon smeared in red curry and cooked in banana leaf is nice – but the pick of the bunch is barbecue chicken swimming in a chilli oil, which the kitchen sent out gratis.

Chin Chin Sydney reminds us to have a good time, and though the model isn’t for everyone, it certainly appeals to most – not only the young and the restless.